Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 58

Maxine POV

The bike sounded okay as it left the car park, disappeared into the night, and returned. It should be fine making it home, but it seriously needs a good service.

After placing my tools away and grabbing my bag with a change of clothes, Tank took me to one of the rooms, and Sticks answered the door. She looked ragged, like all this had been too much for her.

“Hey Maxi Max, come, let’s get you cleaned up, no offence, you stink.” She had pushed Tank away, not letting him into the room.

I giggled all the way to the bathroom, where she gave me some clean towels. I cringed that they were white. Why do motels and hotels always use white?

Closing the bathroom door, I unzipped my bag, pulled out clean clothes, and set them on the toilet lid. Stripping down, I put my dirty clothes in a plastic bag, then placed that bag in my other bag. The shower was hot, and it didn’t take long for me to wash off the grease with special soap before using my apple soap for a fresher smell. Grandma taught me to use something like the apple scent, as it always smelled fresh.

I pulled out my underwear and giggled. I had Snoopy clothes. It was to be a joke, to catch Tank unawares, and maybe make him laugh, but I hadn’t expected to be out in the open when I wore them. Now there was no turning back, because my other clothes were still in the van. I had forgotten I had the Snoopy clothes in this bag.

Sticks looked terrible when I came out. She insisted I sit, and she dried my hair with the hotel-supplied hairdryer.

“Hey, chicklett, you okay?” I asked, sitting on the bed beside her, my hair dry enough now, and plaited it, looking at Sticks’ pale face as I did.

“The morning sickness doesn’t stay in the morning.” She groaned softly, and although she tried to laugh it off, I could tell she was suffering.

“Let me make you a tea that will soothe that tummy of yours.” I put on the kettle, and pulled out a small bag from the side pocket of this bag, it had ginger and a few other things in it, perfect for upset stomachs, my Grandma’s recipe, cures everything. Grandma used to say. 1 poured the tea and let it steep, the water turning a light brown as it permeated the leaves, releasing a soft aroma.

“Here, chicklett.” I handed her the tea, she blew on it a few times, and took a small sip, then another.

“I’ve got to go. Let me know how you feel. I can make more if you need.” I didn’t mention that I might be on night shift; girls weren’t supposed to do that sort of thing, but Tank said the Prez approved it, and I wouldn’t sleep whilst he was out there putting his life on the line, while I lay sleeping in a warm bed.

Tank was waiting for me by the door; it appears he had been watching and patiently waiting the whole time I was in the room. That man has so much patience. I had seen him interact with others; no matter how stupid the other person sounds, he listens and lets them have their say, gives his opinion if asked for, otherwise lets them vent. Some guy he dealt with the other day had me ready to punch his lights out, but not Tank; he calmed the guy down and made him feel that what he said was important. Which, of course, wasn’t that important; the guy completely lost the plot. In the end, he had patted him on the back, thanked him for his feedback, and sent him on his way with a big smile.

When Tank turned and saw I had seen everything that went down, he rolled his eyes at me, which made me giggle.

We walked to the bike, and I didn’t hesitate to strip down to my Snoopy underwear. I was getting better at being in my underwear around Tank and not hiding my body like I used to. My sister had shamed me so much that I felt self-conscious of my larger than she had boo.bs, but Tank had made me feel special, reminding me that, to him, I was perfect, well-proportioned, and my sister was just jealous. What he said made sense, but it didn’t take away the years of shaming and bullying. I am getting better with Tank’s help.

I climbed into the sleeping bag and adjusted the pillow. Tank climbed in, wearing his boxers, and lay on his back, staring up at the stars. Neither of us was ready to sleep yet, but we knew we had to get some, or we would be a wreck tomorrow. I snuggled in closer, my right leg over his left thigh, feeling the warmth of his body, my right hand on his chest, drawing circles in his hair, my head on his shoulder, his arm over my shoulder, drawing me in close, giving me a feeling of security and comfort. That I didn’t know I needed.

“Can you sleep? That alarm will go off sooner than you think.” He murmured, his other hand captured mine, drawing circles and entwining our fingers, stopping my hand from playing with his chest.

“I will try.” He kissed my hair, closed his eyes, and fell asleep fast, years of practice, I guess, learning to snatch sleep when you can. I don’t know how long I was awake for. I watched his face as it relaxed, and his mouth opened slightly, breathing through it. I closed my eyes, contented, enveloped in his arms and warmth. The hard ground wasn’t so hard, as I was almost lying on top of him.

The next thing I know, the sound of the gong, which starts the song “Hell’s Bells. by the ACDC, woke me, Tank’s alarm. He had that gong and beginning rift as his wake-up sound, on repeat, not the whole song, just the gong and first few bars. The first time I had heard it. I jumped a mile, at the sound, now I was adjusting to hearing it, and it does the job, wakes me up, and fast. Not that we have had to use an alarm that often, as we are both early risers and awake before the alarms.

Tank groaned and moved to grab his phone, to stop the sound, he didn’t have it on too loud, not wanting to wake anyone else, I moved off of him, as he moved, and sat up, stretching and let out a yawn, before grabbing my blouse, and shook it, before putting it on, then my jeans doing the same thing, lastly my boots, knocking them on the ground before sliding them on, who knows what found a home inside of them during the night.

“Are the main doors open for the bathroom?” I asked Tank as he got dressed, both of us working quickly and efficiently, like we had done this hundreds of times before.

“No, I will show you the toilet block, that’s never closed, has to have something for the travellers, beside the fuel stop.” Tank tucked me under his arm and walked me to the side of the hotel, the lights of the toilet block glowing a dull yellow, nothing too blinding in the night. He went in with me, checking it out, before leaving me to do my business, and I guess he went next door to do his.

I smiled as I sat to do my business.

Tank was so protective, it was a nice feeling inside to have someone who showed he cared. I didn’t have to ask him to do anything, or beg for his attention; he showed me in small ways how he felt, just like Grandpa and Grandma had said, when the right man comes along, you will see it in his actions. They were right, so far Tank was doing all the right things, and I liked it, it made me feel special, a feeling I had never had from a boyfriend before, that I was being put first.

I washed my face and looked at myself in the scratched, visitor-marked metal mirror. The face, looking back, was like a Picasso, broken and distorted, but the eyes that shone were bright, and the lips had a gentle smile. This was a new me. A better me, one that was starting to find peace, and I suddenly realized as I looked at that broken face, that I didn’t have a nightmare last night, I actually had a dreamless sleep, the first time in a lot of years, to not have any dreams.