Hunter (The Untouchables MC 6)

And not me, I realized suddenly, warmth filling the space inside my ribs. I had a woman now. I had someone to go home to.

One by one, we filed in. The place was disgusting, even for a motorcycle club. I looked around, spotting a couple of guys who were glaring at us blearily. I knew many of them would be packing and none of us wanted to get shot.

Cain nodded to me and I banged on the bar.

“Listen the fuck up,” I shouted. “You assholes had better chill the fuck out. You killed one of our guys. This shit is over. Dante is dead. Shane doesn’t want to deal with your sorry asses. So for now, you are under our fucking jurisdiction. That means you answer to Cain.”

“Hunter will be running things until we figure out a permanent solution.”

I stared at Cain in shock. There wasn’t time to even feel the sting of betrayal. He’d sold me out. But the Raisers were all getting to their feet. I wasn’t sure if they were going to attack us. I braced for the start of a fight. But instead, they lined up and started shaking my hand, one by one.

“Fucking children,” I heard Vice hiss under his breath.

“I guess that makes you Number Two now,” I said with a glare at Cain. But he shook his head.

“You are not being replaced. You are just being utilized in the most efficient way possible.”

I nodded. I knew he had to do something. I just hadn’t expected this to be it.

“Doc, get your ass over here,” I blustered. “You’re my second.”

“Well, fuck,” he said good naturedly. He didn’t want responsibility, but he was too smart to fuck with me. Or Cain. He shrugged and stood next to me.

“Not one fucking taker,” Vice muttered. The man had been eager for a good fight. He loved violence almost as much as he loved women. And drugs. He had his nickname for a reason.

“You,” I said to the next guy who stood in front of me. “What’s your name?”

“Omaha,” he said with a shit-eating grin. He was big and surprisingly wholesome looking. But he had military tats. I nodded.

“Take a swing at this fucker,” I said, jerking my chin toward Vice.

“Yes, sir,” Omaha said. He didn’t hesitate. He stepped to the side and swung. Vice took the hit then popped back up, looking as fucking happy as a pig in shit.

And then it was on.

The clubhouse broke out in pandemonium. It wasn’t a serious fight. Just blowing off steam. Even Preacher got in the mix.

Only Cain and I stood back to watch. He looked at me and rolled his eyes as a wooden chair flew past us and hit the wall, breaking into kindling.

“See? I knew you were a fucking natural.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Claire

“How are you feeling?” Hunter asked with concern in his voice. I frowned at him from his massive sectional couch where he had me laid out with a heating pad and a box of chocolate.

For someone who had wanted me to be pregnant, he was certainly overdoing the concern about my severe PMS. I stared at him suspiciously as he sat down and turned on the TV, handing me the remote.

It had been a few weeks since the pregnancy scare. I hadn’t taken the pill. It was crazy, but apparently, he’d meant everything he said. We were now a couple. He’d even insisted that I move my things into his house and helped Gran turn my room into a sewing room to free up the dining room table.

I think he did that to make it harder for me to move back in, but if so, he wasn’t saying.

For some reason, I found it impossible to say no to the man. Especially in bed. He was demanding and skillful and so hot it made my toes curl.

He was also busy and stressed. I worried about him. I was really starting to become domestic. I felt almost . . . wifey.

I was just starting to learn about the world he lived in. It was all partying, riding fast, grease, and motor oil. But there were also dark things. He said he would keep me safe from them. But recently, there had been some murders.

I shivered despite the heating pad. I did have pretty bad PMS, sore boobs, and a backache that was horrific, but that was nothing new. I had learned to work through it. It wasn’t like you could bring in a note from your gynecologist in nursing school. Being taken care of like this was new to me. I hadn’t felt this loved since I first came to live with Gran.

Having a big, handsome man look after me was a whole other ballgame.

Of course, part of me still thought he was going to hurt me emotionally, string me along until he got bored and then move on. I knew I wasn’t being fair. He had shown no signs of being untruthful or unfaithful. It was just so hard to trust men after being around so many married doctors with wandering hands. I wasn’t sure I believed any of them were truly capable of monogamy.