Claiming the Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 9)

November

I’m having the best sleep of my life after being out of it with the nastiest stomach virus on the planet all weekend when Viking wakes me up with a shake.

I jolt and sit up in my bed, wiping my eyes. It’s super late. I meant to only take a nap but seems I slept through the evening but after how much I’ve been vomiting its not surprising how much it took out of me.

“No time to explain. Get some shoes on. We’re needed at Hound’s.”

“Okay,” I croak and clear my throat. I don’t take time to change. I slip my Crocs on, then grab my keys, and follow Viking out my front door and climb into the driver seat of my Durango.

As I drive, he explains a little. “I told you my sister is in town. What I didn’t share is she’s in a fuckuvalot trouble. I don’t know what we’re about to walk into. Hound called said to bring you. Only thing I can think is something has happened to Astrid.”

My stomach does a pitch and I’m afraid I’m going to start vomiting again. “What kind of trouble?”

“The kind that can get a person dead.”

A wave of nausea hits as my temples pound.

“Do you think she’s hurt?”

He doesn’t respond outside of telling me to speed up and barking directions at me.

When we arrive at Hound’s the man is a wreck. There’s blood everywhere in the kitchen and no sign of Viking’s sister. I knew she’d shown up the other day out of the blue. He didn’t seem to want to talk about her which honestly hurt considering we’ve spent the past six months sneaking around. I’m not saying that I expect him to be in love with me. I just wish he’d give me more of him besides his dick.

I glance over at the wounded dog on the floor. Shit.

“Take care of her,” Hound barks at me.

“I’m not a vet.”

I don’t know Hound well at all, but I know he loves his dogs as much if not more than people.

“Don’t give a fuck. Just handle it.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Him and Viking leave me to it and go to the living room. I look at the tag attached to the animal’s collar. “She-Ra,” I whisper, and she whines. “Hey, girl.” I put my hand to her nose, letting her sniff me. I rub her head. “Can I see?” I check to see where she’s bleeding from as I hear Viking and Hound arguing from the living room.

I rip the hem of my shirt and tie at the top of the dog’s leg to stop the bleeding from what appears to be a bullet wound or hoping too.

She needs emergency care.

I leave her where she is and head into the living room where tensions run high.

“If one of you can get her into my back seat there’s an emergency clinic I can drive to. I can tell them I found her on the side of the road. Or something? Just let me know.”

“Tell them I’ve got pet insurance and we don’t know what happened. You came over to feed my dogs and someone must’ve broken in. You didn’t call the police. You were too worried about the dog. There’s a card in my billfold.” He pulls his wallet out and tosses it to me. “Whatever she needs I’ll cover it. And I’m guessing I don’t need to tell you, but I’ll remind you anyway. Not a word of this is to be repeated to your pencil dick pig boyfriend. Got me?”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

“They will want to file some type of report but tell them no. I’ll get someone to meet you there and it’ll get handled.”

I nod and hope I can pull this off.

Viking lays a blanket across my backseat and Hound lays She-Ra on it being as gentle as he can be.

I jump in the driver’s seat and Viking stands between the door and me, keeping me from closing. “Drive safe. Call me when you know something. I’ve gotta go with Hound.”

“She’s your sister. Bring her home.”

“That’s the plan.” He gives me a quick kiss and closes the door.

I buckle my seat belt and watch him for a beat as he walks back toward the house with Hound, the pair of them on their phones.

I back out the driveway and dial the emergency clinic, so they know I’m on my way.

“What the hell happened to you?” Hazel stares at my blood-soaked pajamas.

“Thanks for coming.” I sniffle and wipe at my nose. I don’t know why I’m being so emotional. “She-Ra needs surgery and possibly could lose the leg but they expect her to live.” That’s the important part.

“Oh, babe. Does Hound know?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. I tried to call Viking, but it goes to voicemail.” I’m not sure how much I can share with her, and I hate it. Some guy called Banks was here and spoke with the vet. Made a nice donation to the clinic to lose the report.

None of this sits well with me. I knew what I was getting into with Viking. I did. Wylla Mae was kidnapped by East’s ex and so was her baby when her father’s ex-wife went off the deep end. I know these things happen, but I can’t help but worry about what Viking is getting himself mixed up now. What if he gets hurt? What happens if he can’t find his sister?

Hazel squeezes my side. “Let’s get you home.” I nod.

“I’ll drive your car and Holy will follow us.”

“Thanks.” Truth is I could probably have riven myself home. I can’t stand being alone right now with all my racing thoughts. My emotions are high.

Hazel drives me home and Holy offers for them to stay with me, but I decline though I appreciate the offer. I’ll probably take a shower and pass out once my mind stops racing, trying to process the events of the night. All that’s going through my head is if whoever took Astrid hurt an innocent dog what are they doing to her. What will they do to Viking or Hound or whoever else is in the crossfire?