Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 297

Tracey POV

Tempest was like a balm for me, she works her all the time with the rehabilitation, not slacking at all. Tempest opened up a little with me, sharing some of her childhood, and I did the same. We both had shi,ty childhoods, but at least mine wasn’t so violent as hers, yeah, I got hit several times, but nothing compared to hers. Tempest was like a sister to me already. We have worked closely together and formed a bond I didn’t expect; it felt more than a client relationship.

I thought, with the news of her Dad escaping, she would go into hiding, but she didn’t; instead, she asked to learn to shoot a gun, and I asked Gramps if I could join them on the range. Like Tempest, I don’t know if I could pull the trigger against a person, but if I learn how, I won’t be able to blame a lack of knowledge for not shooting.

In the kitchen, the wheelchair doesn’t hinder Tempest at all; she moves about the area with ease and reaches places I thought were too high. Tempest surprises me every day with her flexibility and strength. Tempest was also good fun. Together we are making pies, and Tempest loved the idea of burning a few tongues. Some were made hotter than others, and it was going to be fun to find out who got the hottest one. We put a little mark on the top, so we knew who had it. We giggled all the way through making our pie conspiracy.

Tempest was in a shirt I would die for.

“Want to swap shirts?” I asked. I had two of these, but none of the ones she was wearing.

“Not sure, do you have another one?”

“Sure, but it’s not unpacked.”

“Then, nope, I will stick to this one; maybe someone else will wear an old one, too.”

When the others arrived, and Tempest was the only one who was different, I could see she was uncomfortable about it, and most likely wished she had swapped. Even with the compliments, it doesn’t remove the feeling of being different. I should know, I’ve been there, done that.

The new arrivals were good-looking, like most of the men I had seen around Tempest’s home; it’s like her house was full of men who could easily walk the catwalk. Even the guards look mighty fine to me. I don’t mind looking, but I don’t like them too close. They scare me, a lot, too many memories of sleazy men Mum dated, rubbing themselves up against me, and pretending it was an accident, and my charming Mother accused me of seducing them. Yeah, not a good place to live. I was happy to move out. Or should I say kicked out. Not just by my mother when I was fifteen, but also by my boyfriend, his reaction to my catching him cheating, got me to love my life.

I pushed my thoughts away and greeted the new arrivals. Two crowded in on me, and I stiffened up. It didn’t matter how often I pushed their hands away; they put them back, which slowly made me angrier, and I pulled further into myself, trying to shrink. Silly to think I can get smaller, at five-nine, I am not that tiny. It was more something inside me that shrank back. I didn’t bother with their small talk, but focused on the television, when at last we gained a goal, Gramps, and I think Tempest said his name was Doom, got up to dance, calling out goal, which gave me a chance to get away from these guys, and join the happy dance, and change seating.

I didn’t look over at them to see their reaction; I was too scared to look, but I focused back on the game, glad that Doom didn’t act like the other two jerks.

Doon kept to himself, only moving when they missed a goal chance or when he felt the referee was not giving the right call, in his opinion. He was fun to watch, as he got totally invested in the game, and all around him must have disappeared, and he was so focused like Storm and Gramps. Doom was the first guy ever to offer to help me in the kitchen, like, what man does that? None of the ones Mum dated, and definitely not my ex. I thought it was the norm for men not to go into the kitchen, which was silly, really, because there are a lot of male chefs, so some do, I guess, but then that’s their job, and they must enjoy cooking to do it.

To my amazement, when we got back to the lounge with the pies; he plated up some for Storm and Tempest. The other two hadn’t left their chairs till Gramps grabbed a plate, then they came and helped themselves. Skunk made a show of how spicy the pies were, and I wondered if he got the hottest one. I distracted myself by pouring drinks, gave one to Storm and Tempest, then moved back to grab a plate for myself and some juice..

As I sat down next to Doom, I noticed he had the hottest one on his plate. I signalled to Temptest, who nodded in understanding, and we ate our own but kept an eye on Doom. I took a deep breath when he picked up the hot one and took a big bite.

“Wow, that one had a kick. Can you make more like that one? It was hotter, or was it an accident?” Doom shocked both Tempest and me. He really did love hot and spicy food; he didn’t lie.

“No, we made some at different levels of heat. You took the hottest one. Imagine if Skunk had picked that one.” Tempest giggled as she looked over at Skunk, who was frowning, because it wasn’t considered hot. The game came back on, and we all glued our faces to the screen. Most of us went for a toilet run at the next break before the final session.

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