Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 312

Chapter 312

Tracey POV

This bed is hard; it’s definitely not mine. Mine is soft, warm, and comfortable; this one’s cold, I feel cold.

When I moved, a pain shot in my left shoulder. I groaned at the pain and opened my eyes.

Yep, not my room.

Doom was suddenly at my side, his eyes full of concern.

He’s alive!

I was so sure that the man who stabbed Doom had killed him, I had to stop them; they would show no mercy. The memories of that awful fight came to mind. I could have lost this lovely man before getting to know him better and having some more really mind–blowing sex.

That answered one question that had been gnawing in my head.

I want to be with Doom. I don’t care if I have to share him with a man, but not a woman. Strange,

you would think I wouldn’t want to share at all, but if I had to, then yeah, a guy. I don’t want to be fighting another woman, I would prefer to have him all to myself, but if he needs to, I get it, and won’t hold him back. Doom gave me the pills and sat waiting for me. I handed back the glass, and he placed it on the side table, sat back next to me, took up my hand, kissed my knuckles, and waited. That’s another thing I like about Doom: he doesn’t pressure me, but waits silently.

“Your bed, if you think we can manage not to cause each other too much pain. You’re not too hurt; we are both a sorry sight.” Doom’s eyes lit up like fireworks on the fourth of July.

He stood pocketing the medication bottles, put his laptop in a bag and slung it over his shoulder, and carefully scooped me up, walking gingerly out of the medical wing. He had to be hurting, carrying me around, but he didn’t even grunt from the effort. He walked past a staring Storm and a smirking Tempest, up the stairs.

I felt like precious cargo in his arms.

I trusted he wouldn’t drop me, even with his injury.

Carefully, he lowered me onto the bed, squatting down to do it, not bending over like he might have done if he wasn’t hurt. He placed the meds on one side of the table, went to his mini kitchen, grabbed a jug of cold water from the fridge, and returned, placing a glass and the jug next to the meds. I noticed Doom had some meds on his side of the table. One looked like an antibiotic, the

same as mine.

“That’s where you belong,” Doom said with a satisfied smirk, his eyes dancing with joy.

Chapter 112

“My clothes?”

Clanc

“Will get one of the staff to pack them up and bring them up.” Doom slid next to me on the bed and rested his head on my good shoulder. I ran my fingers through his hair, and to my surprise, it didn’t take long for Doom to fall asleep. I lay there, thinking about the fight and what I could have done differently. Doom said they were looking for a leak. It must be either a security guard or a member of staff who was sacked. I would hate to think it was one still working here in the house.

With all the security measures, it seems unbelievable that so many men managed to get that close to us. The damage they could have inflicted makes my stomach turn.

I thought of all those that were gone that I had met; there were at least three that came to mind that could want a vendetta, but how would they contact Tempest’s Dad? That part doesn’t make sense. Tempest didn’t know any of the staff before she came to help Grams; there’s a link somewhere. I hate unsolved puzzles; it’s going to eat at me till we get some answers.

Sleep claimed me unexpectedly, and a knock on the door woke me.

“Doom, sweetie, someone at the door?” I shook Doom awake softly, unsure where his wounds

were.

Doom mumbled something incoherent and stumbled to the door.

Tempest was on the other side.

“Hi ya, I packed your gear. Oh, where were you asleep?” Two staff members walked in carrying my suitcases and placed them inside the walk–in robe.

“Yes, and thank you,” Doom answered for us.

talk shop at the table.

“Most are not involved with Dawson; they came on board for the money, as most mercenaries do. Only two, I figure, have some link to Dawson, or his close team. One was dead, and the other was the one that Tracey shot; he was not talking yet. The doctor said to try tomorrow, won’t get any sense out of him tonight,” Storm replied thoughtfully.

“We have two household staff to talk to yet. One was sacked and has yet to locate her; the other is on her way to the cells, where we shall calmly talk to her. Doom found some interesting footage. We have confiscated her mobile and have given it to Tempest to see what she can get off of it.” Calmly? Was that a new word for something more?

Calm was what those around me looked like; you would think a few hours ago, we were close to being wiped off the map.

“One of the security men thinks he might have a clue how they managed to get so close. Besides, the two cameras that were out and in the process of being replaced. The security man felt there was some interference signal; he was looking into it, and it was worrying that someone could disable our systems.” Storm added, when there was a lull in the conversation, we were all back to

eating.

“Signal? Like a high–frequency whistle?” I asked, thinking about what I felt before the attack.

“Exactly.”

“When I saw the red dot, searching the ground, I felt more than I heard. Something like that. My ears tend to pick up higher sounds than most, and I can have some pain when they are active.”

“That is interesting.” Uncle Simon looked at me speculatively, and I wondered what he was planning.

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