Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 366

Chapter 366

Skittles POV

I didn’t expect the chief to give me his notes and leave as he had; something tells me he had a beef against my mother, too, and only the law kept him from killing her himself. She hurt so many people, and I don’t get how she got all that power, magic t**t my butt–cheeks.

The pages were in neat cursive writing, and having seen him writing them out, I was surprised at how neat it was, considering he wasn’t watching what he was writing, obviously years of practice.

“What do you make of that?” Stinger asked, sitting next to me on the floor, taking some of the pages the chief wrote, before handing them back.

“That the chief now crosses out a troublemaker from his list of people to keep an eye on. You and I both know how bad our mother was. Maybe, in his own way, not pursuing this was his way of making peace with himself. I don’t know what happened to him, but I get the feeling he had tasted the sting of mother’s venom, and would most likely have liked to have been the one doing that

torture.”

“I hope he’s alright. It wouldn’t have been easy to walk away as he had. He was a good chief, and I doubt anyone would believe you if you mentioned this. The fewer people who know about that thumb drive, the better,” Dad said, sitting on the floor with us, and looking at the neat notes the

chief had left behind.

“Agreed, Dad. I am not sure what to do with it yet. Storm might want to keep it in his safe; it doesn’t show anyone’s face, and no one would know the chief had seen it, so, in itself, it’s not incriminating evidence that could be used against us or the chief. I am not sure whether I want to view it in the future. I don’t enjoy seeing it, and not just because it’s of my mother, but I try to see it in a different light than you guys might.” I replied, thinking again in my head, the splatter, the broken bones. It will help with future autopsies.

“Meaning?” Dad asked, looking at me with tenderness and love, making my throat tighten with emotions the video couldn’t evoke.

“I see it in light of my job, how it can help solve the cause of death, where you might see it as violent, or ways to torture, either way.” Dad nodded, Stinger cringed, and Sprocket pulled me back

for a kiss.

“Getting late, I need a nice long soak in the bath, and maybe some testing of the bed springs,” I said, causing my brother to be up and heading to the door fast, not one to be around when I am talking about sex. Dad laughed and followed him out.

I took a long bath, meaning I soaked till the water had gone cold, then climbed my pruned self out and dried off. Sprocket was not at home, which was disappointing. Dried my hair and climbed into

+25 Pentz

bed. I was thinking about the video and who I believed the guys were. I must have dozed off, because I vaguely remember the bed moving as Sprocket climbed in. He smelled like one too many drinks. Dad might have convinced him to have a drink and chat.

Time was flying, and I didn’t hear anything more about the video, which was still on my laptop and on the thumb drive in my closet. Work was back to normal; the autopsies were complete, so I didn’t have to avoid the investigation lab any longer. Tomorrow is Friday and my wedding day, and tonight I will be staying at Tempest’s home. Skunk, Journey, and Nugget are back. Nightingale was there too, with Blaze hovering around her, worried she might have another episode. But she knows the risks of not following the doctor’s orders. Hopefully, it was a big enough scare to encourage her to make it easier now. Some people appear to be more prone to this kind of thing than others, and it wasn’t a bad lifestyle; it was more genetic. Although I think with Nightingale, it was a bit of

both.

It’s kind of funny that Tandy, Sprocket’s dad, will be officiating the wedding, and Dad’s walking me down the aisle, along with my brother. I wanted both beside me, so Stinger was going to walk me halfway, and after the second bike revs, Dad would take over, and hand me to Sprocket. The girls were great, did our hair, nails, and other body parts, and talked late into the night.

I woke to Nugget sitting on me, patting my cheek softly. Well, softly for a young lad. Nugget will be with the guys at the front, holding the rings for us. Everything sounds so unreal, like I am a few hours away from being a married woman, something I dreamed of, but never thought would ever eventuate. My luck with boyfriends was zero. I think Mum slept with every one of the boys I liked, to teach me men only want one thing. She’s wrong. I have seen what men should be like since coming to this club. I pushed the thoughts of her behind me; she can’t hurt me anymore.

“Hey, I got to put some glitter in your hair, Mum said it was okay, to be a bit different, are you okay with that?” She filled a bowl with porridge and joined us. Nugget reached out, pulled some toast for himself, and, using a child’s knife, spread some sweet conserve on it. I showed him this at breakfast yesterday, and he loved being able to spread the toast himself; it was cute.

“I have no problem with you adding some colour to my wedding. I would be proud to have you do my hair.” I didn’t care what my hair looked like; I couldn’t see it. I know it’s a strange way to look at it, but if it’s a mess, I can’t tell, so yeah, I am one of those, once done, it’s done, and not keep fussing over it. Never would my mother. No! No! No! I am not letting her in to spoil my wedding.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify