Biker's Claim The Broken Angel is Mine (Cora and Jake) novel Chapter 70

Chapter 70

Gunner POV

23 Points

The meeting didn’t go as I thought it would. But at least the members knew we were doing something about where the investigation had reached. All was going well, the food came out, and I watched as Cora made a plate. She seemed happy and content, with a soft smile on her face as different people came to talk to her. Cora nodded and accepted what they were saying; it was good to see her interact so freely with the members.

That’s when Scraps came to talk to me, distracting me from watching Cora interact.

“Dormouse has been moved out of the ICU,” Scraps informed me. I lowered my head to listen to what she had to say.

“Has he woken up yet?” I asked, staring at her tiny hands, as she played with a crumpled–up tissue, one that had seen better days,

“No, but the doctors think it will be soon. There is brain activity, so that’s a good sign.” Scraps snivelled again. I looked around. Cora had moved, but Scraps tugged my arm again, and I leaned back down to

listen.

“Dormouse will live, won’t he? You are looking into the person who hit him?” Her voice was raspy and

broken from all her tears.

“Hacker was looking into the guy’s past. You should talk to Oddball; he might have some answers by now.”

“Thank you.” I looked for Cora and found her staring at me in horror. Her face was pale as she looked at me, then to Scraps, and back to me, before tears started to run down her face. She turned and fled to the

stairs.

“You’d better run after her. She had misunderstood what was going on between us.” Scraps nudged me into action, rushing through the members, who seemed to all be in my way. By the time I had reached the bedroom door, it was locked, and I couldn’t get in.

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I pounded on the door till my fist hurt, but she refused to answer. How has she locked me out? Cora must have something blocking the door.

“Cora lock you out? Why don’t you get a ladder and go to the balcony? I suggest you calm down before you see her.” Dizzy tapped me on the shoulder, stopping me from trying to break the door down.

“Good idea.”

I found a ladder with an extension that would reach our balcony, and moved it into position. It shook and wobbled as I tried to climb too fast, which caused me to slow down, or I would vibrate it off the wall. I had to take my time, just like I did with Cora when I got there. Two more rungs, and I grabbed the railing and jumped onto the balcony. It was locked, but the locks were flimsy and easy for someone like me to open. I pulled out my flick knife, carefully slipped it between the door and the wall, and slid the lock–up. I should

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fix this so it’s not so easy to get in. Glad I hadn’t before now.

slowly slid the door open, trying to stay quiet.

Stepped in and slid the door closed.

Cora was sitting at the table, numbly eating the food, tears still falling, as she talked to herself, something about broken trust, and making me a booty call person, and not someone to rely on. That broke me, hearing what she was saying, but I needed to; and would suck it up.

“Cora,” I called out softly as I moved closer to her. Cora’s face lifted, confused at first, then looked past me to the balcony and put two and two together.

“Go away.” She growled out at me.

“You misread the situation. Let me explain.” I tried to speak calmly, when all I wanted to do was pull her into my arms and soothe the tears.

“A girl, dressed in her baby sister’s clothes, rubbing herself all over you while you allowed it to happen, what’s to missread?” Cora spat at me, and if I were honest, any person who doesn’t know Scraps. That’s exactly how it would look.

“Scraps, that’s her name, has always been like that.”

“Yeah, so? If you want other girls, that’s fine, I will move out of this room and take one of the empty ones,

and you can have all the girls you want. Just make sure you cover it before you bed them.” Cora wasn’t listening, or was I not explaining it well? Or a bit of both.

“Scraps is Dormouse’s woman,” I added as I continued to move slowly to the table, almost there.

“Dormouse? The guy who was hit on the footpath?” Cora was looking at me now, her tears had stopped, but she was still not under control, but at least listening.

“Yes. Scraps were filling me in on Dormouse’s condition.”

“How is he?” Good, she’s listening.

“He had been moved to a ward, still unconscious, but had brain activity.”

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“Good signs, what about the driver of the car?”

“Police deemed it an accident, a burst tyre, which we believe was another shooter, or a copycat, because none had been in town before, and the car didn’t slow until after they hit him. Oddball had Hacker digging into his background to see if we could find a connection somewhere.” I had reached the table, and I squatted down beside her, coming to her eye level.

“Why does she wear clothes like that, if she had a man?”

“Scraps has always been that way, and Oddball doesn’t mind, so who are we to judge?” I had no clue how to handle that question. Why do any of us wear what we do?

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“That’s why you didn’t push her away, and seemed engaged in talking to her. You were sharing information, but from where I was standing, she was rubbing her cleavage on your arm and acting like a loose woman.”

“That’s just scraps. She does that with everyone, even with you. If you let her take your arm, it’s her way of getting comfort. She is a very insecure woman who needs Dormouse, he’s the only one who gives her what she needs, and loves doing it. He claimed her a year ago, and they are both going strong.”

“Sorry. But it looked.” Cora didn’t finish what she was saying; she didn’t need to.

“My job as an enforcer will have others, like Scraps, trying to rub up against me, and talk to me, to try and sway me, to get what they want. Often, it’s about asking not to be kicked out or to get free drinks. I am a one–woman man; I don’t play the field, and I am not interested in others. Only you, if want to break up, I would talk to you first, not go about it that way.” Not that I want to break up, or anything like that, but I felt it had to be aired.

“So, we are a couple?”

“I’d like to think so, we are sharing a bed. Like couples do.”

“Eat, it’s getting cold.” Cora picked up a small nugget and offered it to me to eat. I opened my mouth and allowed her to pop it in my mouth. I stood up, slid out of the chair next to her, not game to touch Cora yet; she was still a bit emotional, and I felt I needed to wait for her to signal that all was okay, give her time to digest what was said, and see how she might react.

Together we polished off the food. It was only lukewarm, not what I was looking for. Some started to taste terrible, because it was not hot, but I ate them anyway, no need to make Cora more upset, and cold food

might push her over the edge.

“I got the impression, from some of the questions at the meeting, that many didn’t trust me, didn’t understand why I was involved, and were judging me harshly. Is it because I am not a member?” Cora moved away from Scraps and that incident, and to one that had been circling in my brain.

“Might be. Some don’t like how fast you fit in; some blame you for saving me, giving you special treatment; girls who were hoping to be mine are jealous; men who wanted you are the same; it’s a pot simmering, waiting to boil over.”

“What can we do about that? It’s not like I can change how I ended up here, and I understand those who think it’s because I saved you.”

“Didn’t you already agree to be my girlfriend, and we would go on dates?”

“Yes, before you took me to that restaurant.”

“Then let’s go downstairs right now, while we have a lot of members here and announce that I have claimed you, not yet accepted as my wife, but no longer available, my girlfriend, see if that will call off the haters,” I suggested, liking that idea even more as I think about it.

“Or make the haters even more jealous,” Cora replied, but nodded in agreement to go and tell the members she was my girl.