Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 261

Cloe POV

Still dreaming. I had to pinch myself when we reached the dinner table, and there was my family sitting there eating. It was hard to believe they were here. That they wanted anything. to do with a failure like me. That’s what Dad and Mia called me all the time. After a while, you tend to believe what they say.

Richard remembered my bike, the boxes we brought home, and the many times he said it was impossible to rebuild it. I had nothing but time to rebuild it. When Dad and Mia went on their show-and-shine adventures, it gave me breathing space to heal and do my own thing, and building the bike was my chance for freedom. Each part that got fitted was a step closer to being free, and gave me a sort of satisfaction that nothing else had.

“Simon, we need to talk about moving forward, what to do about my son-in-law, and how the two children feel about it,” Grandpa said, when the hype of the bike faded. Fixer was going to allow me to paint it, and without her intervention, my first attempt at a full-blown paint job, put what I had learned into practice, not that I had done much so far, but Fixer must think! have some talent to let me have a go on my own. I hope. Fixer had joked about repairing it if need be.

“Come to the office, we can talk there.” Storm collected me from the bike and carried me to the office.

“Firstly, let’s go over what we know and what has been put in place first.” Uncle Simon started explaining what I had taken from Dad’s computer, what the police were or might do, and what Uncle Simon and Tank had planned. If the timing was right.

“I always knew that bastaard was an evil man, selling drugs is a terrible thing to do, and to children, getting them hooked and ruining their lives,” Grandma growled out when Uncle Simon seemed to pause in the story.

“Fertiliser sounds too good for him or Mia, a slow, painful death would be better, before turning them into the soil. Even jail’s too good for him; he doesn’t deserve three meals a day and a bed on our tax dollars, for what he has done to Cloe.” Richard added that he had come to sit beside me and was cuddling me from one side and Storm on the other.

“So it’s unanimous, he needs to stop breathing? Uncle Simon needed clarification,

“I don’t care what happens to him or Mia, as long as they are nowhere near me anymore. I don’t want to ever see their faces again,” I mumble, not liking the idea of being involved with their deaths, but happy to never see them again. I was having conflicting feelings about this.

They were still family, and in a weird kind of way, I did care about them. Someone suggested that it was because of all the abuse, like a victim becomes attached to their attacker. It makes no sense. I don’t feel that’s the case with me. I loathe the man, but not to the extent that I want to be part of ending his life. That’s not a decision I want to make.

“What about us, my dear? You still want to visit and keep in contact, even if we are part of ending your father’s and sisters’ lives?” Grampa asked, concerned with losing me again.

“I love you all very much and have missed you. I don’t want to know how Father dies, I don’t want to be part of that. I can’t live with myself, hurting anyone, having been hurt so much myself. I will defend and protect myself. I could never aim a gun and shoot someone. Take a life. So if and when it’s done, I guess you can let me know he’s gone, but no details, I can live with that.” Did that answer the question? I don’t know, I am getting all churned up inside, talking about Dad in any context.

“Okay, change of subject, Cloe. I have been thinking about your bike, and if you want, we can look at converting it to a trike, so you can ride it, using hand controls.” Fixer bless her knew how to change the subject.

“That sounds wonderful. To be able to still ride would be fantastic.” I clapped my hands in joy.

‘We can work on it together. I had the tools to manufacture what we need, and can customise it to suit your needs.” Fixer sounds as excited about the challenge of modifying the bike as I was.

It was nice to see my family fit in with Storm’s family, but then in the short time I have lived here, which feels longer than it has been, but in a good way, they have a great family bonding, even their friends are so friendly, and keep any disagreements outside. They have a welcome mat at the door that says. ‘Leave your aggro at this door.’ If you bring it in, they tell you to go out and wipe your feet on the mat. If you can’t remove the aggro, don’t come in, and they live by it.

Richard was extra clingy, hovering close by, watching Storm and me closely, like he was judging Storm’s worthiness to have me on his lap, that this giant of a man wouldn’t harm me. I guess he has trust issues, too. Maybe this family can heal what’s left of mine. I thought Dad had hurt more than me. I might have had both physical and mental abuse, and they also had the mental abuse, forcing them to leave us, me. Their regret for not checking up, for not even trying to get in touch, was hurting them more than it was hurting me. I had reconciled that they couldn’t because of Dad, and I forgave them, and now they need to learn to forgive themselves, because carrying the guilt baggage doesn’t help anyone, and can eat you alive.

The night came to an end far too fast, but promises of staying for maybe a week, and getting to know who I am now, were promised, but that opened a whole new can of worms for me, like, who am I now?

What are my goals, besides walking again?

Do I have any?

Fixer and Tank, even Storm, mentioned working in the family business. Do I want that?

My relationship with Storm was all new, if I take a job with the family and we break up, will ! still have a job, do I want one?