Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 52

Maxine POV

The place Tank took me was like stepping into another world.

Birds jumped from limb to limb, singing to each other, the sound of the water rippling over the rocks, the fish darting about amongst the rocks, the bubbles created by the small rapids, were floating for a little bit on the surface, before popping and disappearing as if they were never there, the tree swaying gently in the breeze, and me in the strong arms of a giant, put it together and you had me feeling I had entered a fairy tale.

This was too good to be true.

The calm and serenity of this place could heal the broken soul, given a bit of time.

Grandma and Grandpa would have loved this place. I could picture Grandpa trying to catch fish in the rock pools, and Grandma sitting in the shade under the humongous tree, reading a book. Both would be enjoying the area but in different ways.

I miss them both.

“Sorry, we can come back later if there’s time; we are wanted back at the camp,” Tank said sadly. He, too, was enjoying the tranquil place. He offered me his back, and who am I to refuse, which saves me from risking slipping and falling in the water.

Tank sure-footedly jumped across the stones, never missing a beat. He skilfully judged each step with practiced ease. copied from jo-bn-ib-com I bounced on his back in time with his jumps, and I felt he did this to hear me laughing, because I did laugh, that is, each time I bobbed up and down, I giggled. He made it fun, and I was flying on his back without a care in the world.

I could see over his shoulder that the club members were gathering, and tents were being dismantled; it looked like we were going home. Our time here was over. It was a shame; I had enjoyed our time here.

Jones Gang, that name rang a bell, something to do with Pixie. I don’t know the story. Tank never divulged what went on at the warehouse, and I never asked. If they wanted me to know about it, they would tell me. I had started to trust Tank and believed he wouldn’t deliberately put me in harm’s way. Being in a bike gang always had an element of risk, even for gangs on the wrong side of the law, because we are all tainted with the same brush: one gang does something, we must all do it. I understand. Grandpa had drilled that into me. It’s like the saying, “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Everything my sister does, or my parents do, they expect me to be the same. I am nothing like them.

Tank lowers me to the ground.

“Go pack our things and join the girls; they know what to do.” Tank turned me in the direction of our tent, and slapped me on the bottom, getting the giggle and a little skip out of his reach, before he turned with a smile to join the men, and whatever they have to do.

I reached our section and started to pack. There wasn’t much, and less than an hour later, it was packed. In the van, I took out the snacks, refilled my backpack, made some more drinks, and they went in the backpack too. I then hunted the girls; they had finished packing, and our tent was being dismantled.

“Hi ya,” I called out as I approached the women, who were together gossiping.

A woman I hardly know came to stand in front of me, encroaching on my personal space.

“This was all your fault. You have been nothing but trouble since cosying up to Tank. They should chuck you out.” She went to poke me in the chest, but I grabbed her hand and tightened my grip. She squealed as I had just broken it, and yanked it out of my grasp, which would have hurt her even more.

“Told ya, she’s dangerous, look what she did.” She lifted her hand, and I couldn’t even see any red marks on it. What was she showing?

“What’s going on here?” Sticks called out as she approached us.

“That,” pointing at me.

“Her.” Turning to look at Sticks with tears in her eyes.

“She’s dangerous.” She screamed out loudly. Gaining attention for anyone within earshot.

“Maxi Max?” Sticks asked, in surprise, turning to me, for clarification.

“That bi,tch hurt me.” She continued offering her hand, which she had been squeezing as evidence.

“Max?” Cricket asked, coming to speak with me.

I explained what happened and backed away, not wanting to be anywhere near the group; trouble was brewing.

“First of all, you are not one of ours. What are you doing over here, trying to stir up trouble where there ain’t any. Secondly, squeezing your own hand to make it red doesn’t look good for you. Now, Piss off.” Sticks said and pushed the woman away; two others left with her.

“Well?” Stick asked the group, which was ours.

I don’t know what was being said, but Sticks turned red, looked over at me, and stormed off towards the group of men and away from me. When she reached them, she was animated, had her arms flying in the air, as she explained something. I don’t know what, but it annoyed all the men.

I moved to stay by the bike, sitting next to it, my back against it, and put on the video from this morning to see what the fuss was about. I scrutinized it like a training session, where my feet were, how fast I reacted, and whether there was anything I could have done differently. I have to admit, considering I blanked out part of the fight, because I had gone to a different place and time for a part of it, I think I did reasonably well; my muscle memory held it together.

Sighing, I thought. I hope one day I will no longer have blank moments, even if it’s only for a second or two; that brief blackout could be costly. I have been working hard to get past them, but triggers are still setting them off: a smell, a word, a familiar situation.

I watched the video a few times before Tank arrived and sat beside me.

He looked at what I was watching on my phone and put his arms around my shoulder.

“You did well; it shows what you can do under stress. I am proud of you.” Tanks deep voice rumbled, the words I needed to hear, like a thirsty woman being given water. I soaked them up, and it appeased my worry a little.

He gets me. I rested my head on his chest and let the video run once more.

“There, see that, you acted without hesitation, and that sound of bone breaking? Perfect. Did you hurt your knee? I forgot to ask?” He said, rubbing my leg where he thought it might have been hurt.

“Nope, not even red.” I smiled back.

“Might want to visit the bathroom, we’re leaving in half an hour, when the last few have packed up,” Tank said casually, but didn’t remove his arm.

“Okay, was this my fault, like they are saying?” I asked tentatively.

“Nope, nothing to do with you at all, that woman was from the Jones gang, here to cause trouble, just like those guys were, they aren’t club members, but wannabes and took the chance to stir trouble to get into their good books,” Tank replied, giving me enough information but not a lot, I was happy to get what I got.

Tank kissed my hair, and got up, turned to give me a hand, when four guys came out of behind the trees nearby, heading straight for us. I stood up and turned, ready to fight if need

“Tank, is that her?” One of the guys asked, nodding at me.

“Yep, my pride and joy.” He said with his eyes sparkling, a grin from ear to ear. I relaxed a bit, no longer in fight mode.

“Girl, that’s one mean job you did on the Prez bike. Are you open for business?” He looked at me, hopeful.

“Ask Prez, he got a running list of bikes he has me working on,” I replied, unsure what was going on, other than they love my paint job on his bike. I have no clue who these guys were; I am not up to date with all the bike patches.

“Fuck, yeah. He would have a list, and I don’t see work like that very often. You draw it too?” he asked, the other guys listening, but not speaking yet.

“Yes.” I looked at Tank, confused. I thought we were leaving because of tension, but this wasn’t what I was expecting.

“Will talk to Prez, he’s got to put me on that list, if I give you an idea what I want, you can draw it?” I glanced at his cut; it said his name was Squog.

“Sure, get in touch with Prez, maybe I can draw something and send it to you.” I shrugged. It wouldn’t make any difference to me whose bike I was working on.

“Will do. Safe trip home now. Don’t want to lose that talent,” he waved as he walked away, his buddies close beside him.

“Back soon, bathroom,” I said and started to leave. Tank stepped in beside me. I didn’t question it; I thought he was going to do the same as me.