Biker's Claim The Broken Angel is Mine (Cora and Jake) novel Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Gunner POV

My little tiger, the last thing’t expected was a blow job in the shower, not that I was complaining about getting that little surprise.

Her mouth, teeth, tongue, and hands worked their magic so quickly that it was like I was starving for a release, as if I hadn’t had sex in years.

Climbing behind her in bed, and pulling her towards me, it was like my own hot water bottle, that doesn’t go cold overnight, warm, soft, cuddly. I didn’t take long to find sleep; my belly was full, my balls were empty, and my woman was back in my bed.

Perfect.

Cora, whimpering, woke me, suddenly from my deep sleep. I shook the remnants of sleep from my head and listened.

She was having a bad dream.

I was stuck between risking waking her up and not, trying to remember whether it was worse to wake someone or let them ride it through to its conclusion. I have read that night terrors are best to run their course, and normal bad dreams can be interrupted, but it doesn’t tell you how to tell the difference between the two.

‘Mum.’ Cora called out, not shouting, but loud enough to be understood.

‘NO‘ She breathed out, the words, such pain.

‘Got to get behind him, before he kills more, hurry up, police, no, no, no. No time to wait for the police. I have to get to him now!‘ Cora was mumbling enough for me to make sense of what she was saying, sort of, but it was mixed up, like more than one thing was happening at the same time.

Did her mum get shot?

Was she dead?

Was Cora going to take on the gunman?

Did she take him on?

Was that why she wasn’t scared of being shot when protecting me?

Cora had been faced with a gun before.

That makes more sense now. It was more than protecting her patient, as I was led to believe, and most likely what Cora herself might have thought, but deep down, I think she was trying to protect her mother all over again. I don’t know what happened to her back then. I am going to research that later, so I can find out how to help her. She has so many bad things in her past, yet she’s still a quick–witted, funny woman

hooter $1

who is so sassy when she’s not hiding it. I want that sassy girl out more often.

But that’s not helping me with this conundrum. Wake her or don’t wake her.

A sudden scream helped me make up my mind.

“Cora, babe, wake up.” I kissed her neck, as she still had her back to me and was fighting in my arms. Will I let her go, or keep holding her tight? So hard to know what was right.

“Sweetheart, you’re safe, it’s a dream, a bad dream, please wake up.” I didn’t shake her, just spoke as calmly and softly as I could.

‘Mum‘ She sobbed so soulfully, it broke something inside me, I wanted to cry with her, and another chunk of armour lifted off my heart for this woman. I felt like crying with her; it hit me hard inside. A part of me that had been locked away since I had become the enforcer of this club.

“Babe, wake up, for me, shake that bad dream away.” I kept kissing her neck, whispering in her ear, holding her closer to me. She had stopped fighting me, as if whatever fight she was having was over, and now she was crying over the remnants of what had happened; whatever had happened that day tore this girl apart.

Was this the death of her mother?

She was there; she saw it?

Seeing your mother or father die would rock anyone’s life, shattering it, and your life forever. You will remember those last hours, days before death, and ask yourself if you could do anything different. Did you tell the person enough that you loved and cared for them? Nothing you can change, but it would still eat you alive if your last memories were an argument. Hopefully, that’s not the case for Cora, and seeing her mother die was her only regret. Could she have done something different? I don’t know, but I doubt it; we all have better what–ifs in hindsight.

Cora settled and stopped fighting; her tears slowly stopped. She didn’t wake up, but the nightmare was

over for now.

It took a while before I fell asleep again; my concern for the woman in my arms ran through my head until I

r could shake it off and relax.

Cora, moving again, woke me; she was trying to climb out of bed without waking me. I tried to pull her

back to me.

“A little longer,” I grumbled, in her hair.

“Sure, if you want a wet bed, I can stay a little longer.” She replied, as if wetting the bed was a normal

response.

“What?” My brain hadn’t caught up yet.

“Bathroom.” She tried again to leave, and this time I let her.

Opening my eyes in time to watch her pull the curtains open and let in the bright light of day, I love our

Chapter 44

blackout curtains, but not when they reveal it’s mid–morning. I watched her move to the bathroom, naked, not concerned about being watched by me. I love that she was no longer shy around me, and I get to watch that toned body move. My body was reacting to that gorgeous sight, which stilled when I saw the scar from when she was shot protecting me, and my protective instincts took a hit again. That’s something I need to get over, and that guy in the cells might need another punch in the mouth, so make

me feel better.

I entered the bathroom after Cora came out and did my morning routine, thinking about what I needed to do today and what I had added to it since going to bed. Going to be another long day. I think Bluey mentioned getting Cora back to work and getting her mind off things; too much time on her hands might make her mind get overactive.

That’s not my call, and I am not going to suggest it, as Bluey was trying to persuade me to. I pick my battles, and that’s not one of them. Would I like her to stay in the clubhouse and work here? You bet. But it’s still Cora’s decision, not Bluey’s, and since Scones hasn’t suggested anything yet, I am staying out of the ladies‘ suggestions..

Together we walked out of my room. I had handed her a key so she could return when she liked. I have become obsessed with locking my door lately, since that skank walked into my room. I even had the lock changed. Cora added it to her key ring, which Loser had given her back, after they emptied her car.

The dining room was partially full, breakfast was over an hour ago, it was nine thirty in the morning, and most would be at work by now. I grabbed a plate while Cora picked up a bowl, filled it with yoghurt, fruit, walnuts, berries, and apple juice, and picked up a spoon for her and a knife and fork for me.

We had just sat down to eat when Oddball, Scrubs, and Bluey came in, grabbed a coffee and joined us. I think I knew what was going to happen here; they were going to gang up on Cora to commence work at the hospital and maybe start helping Scrubs when Bluey was working, and Bluey would be available when Cora’s at work. It meant a nurse was always at the clubhouse if needed, but pushing her to start already grated against me; however, I still stayed out of it.

They greeted us and talked about this Sunday. At least once a month, more if we can squeeze it in, we have a family barbecue, where club members come and bring their children here to play together. Most of those are school–age, go to the same school, and stick together, supporting each other. This helps prevent bullying against our kids and also stops them from bullying others. If word gets back to Oddball that one of our children was bullying, the president singles them out in front of the other children and gives them work to do around the club grounds. Few like being seen doing it, because it tells all the kids‘ parents they were caught breaking club rules. Then they would get punishment from their parents, so it was a double whammy.

Then, just as Cora had agreed to help with the kids, and she had swallowed the last of her meal, the real reason for coming to the table emerged.

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