Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 69

Tank POV

It was good that Max managed to eat most of her meal; if Bruiser hadn’t come by and said we had to go to the office, I reckon she would have eaten it all. I sigh as I take her plate and finish, knowing she would feel guilty wasting food, and she likes to see me eat a lot. I think I am putting on weight, eating her leftovers.

I knock on the door and look down at Max. She was wringing her hands and staring at the door, like it was going to attack her or something. The door suddenly burst open, and Bruiser was standing on the other side. He pulled the door fully open, moved aside, and motioned for us to enter, his face giving nothing away.

I picked Max up and sat down, keeping her on my lap, my preferred place for her, nice, close, protective, and that action answered a few questions, without being asked. Prez raised an eyebrow, but that was about the best you could expect.

“Maxine, talk to me, please.” Please, this was not the first time he used please with Max.

“Didn’t you already hear enough?” She snapped back, her defences up.

“Come on, help me out.” He pushed, and I felt Max stiffen.

Then I am positive, that Prez regretted pushing, when she lashed out, giving him a serve like she gave Bruiser, that she was not a door mate, or a nom, and wouldn’t put up with it, she will put down her tools and be like the other ladies, working in the kitchen and laundry, and they could go fuk themselves. I chuckled to myself as she laid into both of them, letting them know she meant business.

“What have you and Tank come up with as a solution?” He asked, still looking at Max, and I think he expected me to jump on and say something, but Max was doing just fine on her own.

“I will do your list, in my time, do rebuilds in my time, and my priority, not yours. I will not study to be a doctor or nurse, but in urgent cases, I will assist. That doesn’t mean every check-up or a sprained ankle; it means real, life-and-death situations. I am not doing all that training, and won’t be doing the doors; I am not a female version of Bruiser. I will, however, help out if needed, but it won’t be defined as my job. I will train when I want to, and as often as I like to.” Max continued with what she wanted, and how she was moving forward, and both Prez and Bruiser sat and listened, not saying a word till she stopped talking.

“Done?” Prez asked, when she stopped and stared at them, her shaking had stopped, and she was more relaxed, having gotten it all off her chest.

“As far as workloads go, yes.” She folded her arms over her chest and waited for the backlash.

“Tank, what’s your read on this?” Prez turned his cold eyes at me, the face that puts most in fear, and hesitated. I wanted to laugh because that face never worked on me, but I didn’t for the sake of Max.

“Max and I have agreed, and I will support her in that decision.”

“Rightly so,” Prez said, then looked up at Bruiser, then back to us.

“Anything else? You seem not to be at odds with each other, so I am assuming that you’re staying in the clubhouse?” Bruiser asked, looking between us, and how I was holding onto her.

“Yes, Maxine has agreed to be my lady. I will have the cut ready in a few days, and I would like a party to announce it to the club, no skanks please, this is our joining day, one special for us, not outsiders.”

“Congrats, bro, that’s the best news. I will get Sticks onto it.” Prez said, standing up, and coming to give me a bro slap, Bruiser did the same, while Max held back, letting us do our thing. It was not like I could do much sitting here being backslapped.

“What’s going on?” Sticks asked, looking between Prez, Bruiser, and me.

“You want to tell her? Or should I?” Prez asked, looking at Max, not me.

“You can have the honor, you have had to deliver some crappy news lately, might make their day hear good news from you for a change,” Max said with a smirk. Snuggling in closer to me. Like she was trying to hide.

“Tank asked Max to be his lady, we got a party to organise for the giving of the cut.” The cut wasn’t like the men’s cut, but it still had the club’s name, your road name, your man’s road name, and, in Tank’s case, the VP on it too. I wonder what they were going to give Max as a road name, I thought briefly, before the high-pitched squeal we had been warned to be prepared for happened.

Max jumped into my arms and then burst out laughing as she squealed, gaining attention from around the room.

Cricket and Sticks got up and moved to sit beside them, pushing Prez and Bruiser away, so they could get closer to talk to Max.

“Max, tell me how he asked? Was he romantic? When did he ask? Oh, we are going to have to get our heads together and get a road name, hey Prez?” Cricket fired off all these questions, leaving me astounded. I don’t think Max would want to talk about the tears and fight we had, well, not me and her, but how she lost it in the office and ended up in the workshop.

“Certainly, you and Stick forward some names, as we will look at them,” Prez said with a smile. It looks like I won’t get a say in the road name, not that I minded.

“Yes, Tank was romantic,” Max said, making me feel a lot better, because I didn’t think it was romantic at all, more like desperation, and our feelings were revealed.