Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 219

Storm POV

We left, once Dad got the instructions for the Doctor, I wanted to hear all about it.

“Not today, son. Tomorrow, before you go to the hospital, I will give you some information. Today, you celebrate your birthday with your family and friends. Enjoy it while you can; things will get harder for you before they get better. And make sure you study, you have an assignment to hand in.” Dad growled the last part. I guess he was worried I would be too invested in Cloe to do my homework. I want this year’s schooling over; it’s my last year, and I’m already ahead. If I am lucky, I might be able to get my degree early just like he did.

“Got it,” I replied, with a grin. Today, we are not taking our bikes; parking would be easier. We’re meeting up with other friends, but the four of us will stick together for most of the day and head back to the clubhouse in the afternoon, where the party will be held. We often used the clubhouse more than home, especially for big parties, partly because Mum never liked lots of drunks sleeping on her lawn, and partly because it mainly attracted club members, so it was easier to use their bar and set up. Leaving home for family-only get-togethers. Made sense, and as we grew up with it that way, it was fine. Dad would say that Mum loved her privacy, and it has always felt like a safe place to come home to, something Mum prided herself on keeping us safe.

“Stick together, and don’t try to ditch the guards.” Mother never let me forget that I had ditched them a couple of times in my early teen years, and Mum never lets me forget. She was so upset the second time that I never did it again. Watching Mum in tears was never something I enjoyed seeing, and me being the cause of her distress, shattered me. Something I, too, will never forget. “We will. More fun together.” Sprocket threw back as we climbed into the waiting vehicles. Chuckling among ourselves, as it had become a private joke, we had fun that last time, before we got grounded for a whole month, and my bodyguards got doubled. Still have double the guards on days like today. Mum’s paranoid that one of us would get kidnapped. Because she has money, I get it, don’t like it, but understand, some want what she has, and don’t mind doing bad things to get it. Mum and Dad have drummed it into our heads, since we could walk, that we had a shadow everywhere we went, and I was the only one so far who tested the boundaries of the shadows. That’s what my close friends and I now call them, not bodyguards, but shadows, because that’s what they do, one was always in sight of us, me, and my siblings.

The place was already packed with people at nine in the morning-more than I had expected. But then there was a lot on show, and those displaying their pride and joy could have brought family, who would be walking around looking at the competition and other interesting displays, gathering ideas for future ones.

Several of our club members have their bikes on display here. Mum had done a lot of new paintwork, leading up to this event, and I helped as best I could. I am not at her caliber, but my airbrush style was improving each time I paint. Mum likes my style and had me add finishing touches to some of hers to get the effect my painting gives. It’s different from hers, and together we complement each other.

We started with the bikes, taking our time to inspect each one, greeting the people who own the bikes, easy to pick out the owner, they were the ones with the biggest, proudest grin. I shake hands with those I know, and politely greet those I don’t. The four of us, moving in as close as the owners would let us, to get a good look.

“I like this one, it has depth to the paint, how’d they do it, Storm?” Skunk asks as he squats down to the level of the tank.

I shine my torch on the paintwork to light up what I want to see. My torch was not a normal one; it was specially made to hunt for imperfections.

“A lot of layering,” I reply, as I move my torch around and pick out errors that have been painted over, to try and hide them. If it were Mum or me doing it, we could have removed that section of paint and redone it instead of covering it up. Guess that the difference between those who are serious about doing a good paint job and those who aren’t.

“Keeping her sedated, lost both legs,” I replied, trying to keep the emotions out of my voice, and I think I failed.

“She will be staying for a while, then. What can we do to help?” Another guy asked, “It’s what I like about our club: their willingness to help out.”

“Will let you know, at the moment it’s keeping her comfortable, and then a lot of adjusting to do. We are fortunate that our town caters to people in wheelchairs and others with disabilities. Over the years, more ramp-style paths to shops and other places were built, rather than just steps; even the public toilets were revamped to accommodate wheelchairs. A lot of progress since Mum started investing more in the town. I am still learning about that side of things, as part of the business studies. Mum lets me use her knowledge and Uncle Simon has other ideas. Combined, the two of us have a wealth of knowledge that most kids in my online class could only dream of having.

We started looking at the cars, some very old, others custom builds, just like the bikes; some have amazing paintwork. The day went great till we reached the car that Cloe’s Dad had on display, with her sister draped over it like a hood ornament. I avoided going closer to it, not the least bit interested, and seeing him made my stomach churm; all I wanted to do was punch his lights out.

“Come, let’s get something to eat, then go home. I’ve had enough of this place now.” Skunk said as he pulled my arm to make me move away from the display, possibly reading how I felt. I didn’t exactly hide it.