Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 14

Maxine POV

It was amusing to watch me struggle with my machinery and equipment. Sticks had brought sandwiches out to the shed when we arrived, and we ate while we worked. By mid-afternoon, my shed was finished, and I had plugged everything in and tested it. A new wash bay, filled and ready for use, a tub full of metal and off-cuts, and all my spare parts, in a separate part of the shed. When Prez saw what I had, he cleared a larger area, and soon the shed was better equipped than the bike shop’s workshop. The gang members came and went as they investigated what I had set up. I was ready for work tomorrow, will have to find out who my boss is, to allocate tasks for me, as I know if left up to me, I would be working on that baby of theirs first. I want to get my hands on that little beauty. See it up and running.

I headed in, exhausted from setting up my workshop, but it was worth all the effort. A quick wash, and I headed towards the kitchen to see if they needed help with dinner prep, but got stopped by a guy who said the Prez wanted me in his office. He led me to the office door, which was open, and knocked. He looked up from the pile of papers on his desk and smiled.

“Come and take a seat,” he nodded to the chair.

Sitting erect, staring at him as he finished something on his desk. I put down his pen and relaxed.

“The workshop looks impressive. I had no idea you had so much equipment. You know how to use it all, like some of that you would not have learned from Mike.” I guess this was his way of asking how I got the equipment and how to use it. I thought I had already told him that it belonged to my grandpa.

“This was all from the sheds my grandpa willed to me; he taught me how to use them all.” I couldn’t stop the pride in my voice as I spoke of my grandpa. He was the only person who made me feel loved.

“I have a list here of jobs for you to do, the restoration of the bikes including baby, will be after these are done, don’t worry you won’t be taking work from Mike, he has more than enough to keep him busy, but we noticed you have a knack for painting and the artwork it great, so our guys want you to work on the paint jobs first. See what you can do, between paint jobs, for the other service and repair. I get that you might have to stop and let the paint dry, only one bike paint job at a time, so that you can do other work. I hope I got all that right.” I took the page and noticed his bike was the first on the list.

“Do you have a preference on the paint job, other than the small explanation here?” I asked, looking at what he suggested.

“Do up a drawing, and show it to me, I am sure the others will have something better for you to go on, but treat it like our tattooist does, we give him an outline of what we want and he draws it for us, and then we make a choice from there.” He was grinning at me, like I was something he was enjoying to get a rise out of me.

“Okay, I will get on that. Anything else?” I wasn’t going to let myself be put out by this; maybe it was a trial of some kind. This was not what I had thought they wanted; it had nothing to do with being a mechanic.

“Yes, have you thought about moving in yet? I know Tank would love to keep you in his bed.” He joked that he would have heard from Sticks by now if nothing had happened.

“It would be beneficial to move here for work purposes. I often work late into the night.” I replied, “I had thought about last night and Tank keeping his promise. I decided I needed to learn to trust again, and this move was huge for me.” I like Sticks and Cricket, and I get along with the ladies I have met so far.

“Good, Tank can drive the truck and bring your stuff here.” He dismissed me.

“I only have clothes; the few things I added to the place can stay for someone else’s use.” I pushed, not wanting to bring all that stuff here.

“Tank can take you.” He again turned to his paperwork, dismissing me, as if all was settled; it might be in his mind, but this had my stomach in a mess, nerves taking over, it felt worse than being kicked out of home.

I am not sure I was ready for this; so much was happening so fast, it was blowing my mind. In one week, I had lost my boyfriend to my sister, got kicked out of home, moved into the flat above the bike shop, now I have a new boyfriend, that was if I agreed, which by accepting to move in with him, I guess that means I have, and changed my job, moved my grandpa’s machinery to a new home, and been given a list of bikes that want new paint jobs, which was more a hobby for me. Still, not part of my job, I found it frustrating that he wanted me to paint so many bikes. I was looking forward to restoring some of those old bikes to their glory days.

“Hey, ready to go?” Tank came around the corner as I was finishing my coffee. I went to the kitchen for a bottle of water and found the coffee pot hot, so I drank that instead.

He came around and wrapped his arms around my waist, as if it was a natural thing to do. I stiffened at first, but he didn’t react, just nuzzled my neck, and waited for me to reply.

“Guess, so, don’t feel I had much of a choice,” I replied, moving to rinse my cup.

“You have a choice, you could stay above the shop.” He murmured in my ear. Nibbling it, causing me to scrunch my neck and wiggle out of his arms.

“It might be worded so it sounds like I do, but I don’t, not really,” I argued back. He looked at me, confused, but didn’t push me on it.

“What do you mean? You don’t want to live here with me.” He sounded like I had wounded him, like a rejection or something.

“I feel like my life has changed so much in less than a month. I don’t know what to feel. Also, I thought I was going to be working on bikes, like repair and rebuild, but I am told to do a whole lot of painting.” I almost sobbed at the thought.

“But your paintwork is good. I don’t understand, with the fock, come on girl, talk clearer so this pea brain of mine can understand.” He grumbled. Pea brain? No way, look at the size of that man, he can’t have a small brain.

“Pea brain?” I chuckled as he bundled me into his truck.

“I like painting, but it’s a hobby, not my job. I was looking forward to getting my hands on those wrecks and getting them back on the road, where they belong.” I pouted, pushing my bottom lip out and folding my arms over my chest in defiance.

“I can talk to the Prez if you like, get him to review the painting schedule, maybe break it up a bit, he wouldn’t have meant it to be an insult, he was impressed with your paintwork, and thought the guys would like a new logo or something, it been a while since we had a good artist in our ranks.” He sounded proud and hopeful, and his verbal diarrhea had reduced. I noticed that when he was angry, flustered, or nervous, he swore more.

I grunted in response, not holding out for success, the Prez’s idea of less, and mine, I get the feeling will be very different.

We pulled up to the shop and spent the next half hour packing my clothes and knick-knacks. Tank wanted the rug in our room; he liked it. Mike arrived and suggested leaving the food in the cupboards and fridge, since one of the guys will be moving in now that I have made it a more comfortable home.

Typical, they didn’t want to do all the cleaning I had done, to make it liveable, it had been empty for a while, and needed a good scrub. It helped me keep my mind off my woes. But I only got to spend a few nights there, and now I’m moving again. I feel my life is spiralling out of control.