Biker's Claim The Broken Angel is Mine (Cora and Jake) novel Chapter 60

Chapter 60

+25 Points

Chapter 60

Gunner POV

The kiss outside the office had to last me all day, so I made it one that counted. For me, hopefully, it was enough for Cora, too. I turned and left her at the door, walking away. Not looking back to see her enter the room, Cora made it clear she had to do this on her own, and respected that, but I made her promise to keep me in the loop and to turn to me if she was stuck, wanted company, or needed someone to spring

feedback on.

Gave the work mobile to a prospect, who would take it to the workshop in town, with five other members

riding to town, and would stay working at the workshop and return together, as Oddball hadn’t changed

that order yet of no singular riders. Not that I had expected him to since I had advised him it was

pointless. Two club members were in the club’s ground workshop, working on their own bikes. Mine didn’t

need any work; it was already serviced. I was working on all the other club members‘ bikes.

We have a club run in two weeks, if Oddball doesn’t cancel it, because of those idiots. I refuse to believe

he will cancel it. I am not a coward, and to me, if we cancel the run, they have won, and chase us off the

roads. That thought didn’t sit well with me. I want us to go out and prove we are not beaten by or scared of

the shooters. Being out there, riding the roads, as we always have, being free and putting the verbal middle finger up at the shooters.

Will our lives be in greater danger because of them?

Yes.

But we are not who we are if we let danger stop us from being us.

Will Cora be willing to come on the run? It would be her first club run, a special run for us as a couple. I will have to talk to Cora, Scrubs and Bluey to find out if we can have the weekend off. It would be a day ride to Mason Falls, stay the night, have some fun and return. Bluey may have placed Cora on the roster for that weekend; they can walk away and join the rides, and the hospital won’t fall apart without them. An argument I have had for years, that your job is exactly that, a job, you don’t have to be tied to a job, that you can’t walk away for a weekend ride. I would love it if all three of them had the weekend off, and we could go on a ride together. Scrubs and Bluey missed the last ride, and a huge accident happened, so they

needed all hands on deck. I understand emergencies can happen, but I needed to join us this time. They

need this break as much as we all do. We are like one large family, and we like to have as many members

as possible to join us on these weekend rides. It will be just our club, this time, a bonding weekend we

often like to have. It blows away the cobwebs and heals any grievances. Plus, we have some new

prospects and three recently raised patch members; this was for them too, to celebrate the patches, and to welcome the new, which, in my mind, would be for Cora too I consider myself a member already even if it has yet to take shape beyond my mind and heart

First, I cleared away Skink’s bike, which was in pieces in boxes, clearly marked Skink and dated, and now

sat in a lonely corner, with a tarp over it. One of the saddest jobs I had to do in a while, death in the family

Chapter 60

+25 Points

was always hard. It was harder for me, because we were close. I had taken him under my wing and trained him up. I don’t do that often, and losing Skink was more than just losing a club brother; it was like losing a blood brother. Maybe that was why I was all for Cora’s spreadsheet. If they have a nearby area they seem to target, I want to stake out that area and get some revenge.

“Gunner.” Oddball entered what I call my zone. The workshop was mine. I allow others to use the front to

service their bikes, but not to pass a certain point, and they must use only the tools set aside for members. The rest was mine, as in, I had paid for it, and although what’s mine is your mentality lingers

around the club and vice versa, this was my exclusion zone, just like Oddball had his office, and Scrubs

has his, this was mine.

“Oddball,” I replied, picking up a rag and wiping my hands, as I moved to where he was standing at the

door. He looked around before talking to me.

“Last night our guests checked out. I need the mess left disposed of and the rooms cleaned. I don’t want

other members involved; do it alone.” I nodded; my day’s plans had just changed. Now was not the time to

ask why the prisoners were now dead. Out here, there were too many ears to hear, and even though we

trust most, there will always be a small part that lost some trust due to Stacks‘ betrayal. I still don’t know

how deep that went. Something tells me the two men were just a cog in a wheel, but to what engine I have

yet to work out. The girl, Kit, was part of it; was I a target, or just the last in line and easy pickings, if Cora

had not come by?

No, don’t go there. It’s done and over with; move on.

My workshop has a hidden door. From the outside, it looks like the workshop is against the main building.

but this hidden door goes straight to the cells. It’s always kept locked and can only be opened with one of two keys. One that I possess, the other, Oddball, has. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you go out into what looks like a cupboard from the other side. It has a two–way mirror. I can see if anyone is in the

room, and can wait for them to leave if there is. I only used this way when I had bodies to dispose of, or I

was to watch the torture in secret, hoping to catch something wrong, like slitting someone’s throat before

they could be properly questioned.

That’s today.

Body disposal.

He was dressed in hazmat gear, covered from head to toe, with a clear shield covering his face, no trace

elements would be left. Not that he was worried about leaving any, just what he was trained to do when

body retrieval was called for.

The first cell I came to had Kit; she looked pale but asleep, with a few bruises on her face, and no sign of

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify