Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 142

Fixer POV

The day was exhausting. All I wanted to do was go home and hold onto Tank. I need his quiet support.

I had never signed so many pieces of paper; I was starting to get cramps in my hands from holding the pen.

My head was spinning with information overload, and I thought it would explode at any moment, with all that I was trying to take in. In the end, I signed away, not bothering to take in the last few; it was too much. I could have been signing the change of cheesecake ingredients, for all I knew. I would hate that, I love cheesecake.

Gramps and the lawyer explained each page before I signed; the lawyer’s voice became a droning background noise, and more than half didn’t sink in. I hadn’t heard of many of these places or businesses I now owned.

“Can you send me copies or at least a spreadsheet of all that I have signed? They’re starting to sound all the same to me.” I confessed when he started on another pile of papers.

“Good girl, you have a great business mind. I will ensure you get all the information forwarded to you. We won’t forward the papers, but we will provide a list of what you signed. I will put it in a spreadsheet, with drop-down menus, for greater detail.” The lawyer replied, happy that I had made the suggestion, it was almost like they had just tested me, and I passed.

I signed for another hour before the paperwork was all back in his briefcase, and lunch was served.

Lunch, it was like I was at a smorgasbord, small plates of everything you could think of were on the table.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I had the cook prepare a sampling of everything, and hope there was something on the table that you would like.” Grams said with the quiet confidence I had started to accept as her everyday voice, practiced so much over the years, it had become her norm.

“There’s very little our Fixer won’t eat; she has an appetite to rival the largest man.” Uncle Simon joked as he loaded his plate with fried chicken. I blushed because I am not afraid to eat, but I can’t eat as much as Tank.

“Good. I was glad that you are not a plastic girl. I am not sure I would have coped with that.” Gramps said, with a smile that could melt the hardest heart.

“Plastic?” Uncle Simon asked, looking confused.

“A body that has had so much medically change or enhancements, that it no longer looks like the girl she once was, or would have been, and can often be high maintenance,” I reply as I place some ribs on my plate, and wonder how they would feel about me using my fingers.

The lunch took twice as long as I would normally take; my grandparents asked a lot of questions, some I answered, others Uncle Simon answered, knowing I wouldn’t. Too much hurt was involved. So much of my life was lost one way or another; talking about it doesn’t make it any better.

“We have since learned that her Grandpa was murdered, and the murderers got away with it till now. Her mother was in a motor vehicle accident, which was not an accident; the same person we believe was involved, and we have taken them into custody.” Uncle Simon was saying, and I looked up at him.

“All of them?” I asked, after swallowing the mouthful of rib, which suddenly didn’t taste so good.

“Yes, all of them. We cleaned out the house; it is empty and ready for renting if you wish to do that.” I remember Tandy mentioning that he had the house and everything they owned now in my name, don’t know how they did it, and won’t ask, just happy it’s done and dusted.

“Do you need help?” Gramps asked as he wiped his mouth with the napkin; his lunch was finished.

“Nope, all done, waiting to let Tank and Fixer have some fun with them, before we finish the task.” It sounded like an everyday chat, not that we were talking about removing the lives of three people, and I found I didn’t feel a thing, no sadness, or guilt, or worry over having their lives ended. They killed or had a hand in killing a few people already; who knows how many more that we don’t know about?

“My team has located your son. Fixer’s dad. We are considering sending our own team, as the government’s wheels of progress move too slowly, and I would like to get this done quickly. My team is, as we speak, going over the area and reports before sending me a plan of action. Once approved, we could have your son back on friendly soil within the month. We hope.” Uncle Simon pulled out his phone and showed Gramps something.

“Is he alive?” Grams asked, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks.

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