Claiming the Two Biker Brothers in Thirty Days

Her head was throbbing like a bitch.

Okay wait. She didn’t use curse words.

Her head was throbbing…what was the right word? Jane struggled to open her eyes, gingerly reaching for her forehead. Bright, blinding light shut filled her vision as one eye finally opened, sending a stab of pain through her skull.

She closed then again, groaning loudly.

Why did it hurt so much? She couldn’t remember what she was doing last night. Drinking? The last time she had too much and ended up with a hangover, it wasn’t as bad as expected.

This was hell.

Unless Amanda had convinced her to do something stupid again.

Wait.

Amanda had convinced her. They were at an arena to watch underground racing. There was something about an oversized, unfunny bra and a guy with a perfect face, smirking at her.

Oh god.

She shot upright, the sudden movement sending a wave of dizziness through her. Her eyes blinked open to find Amanda rushing toward her.

“You’re awake!”

Amanda all but collapsed onto the bed, wrapping her in a tight, bone-crushing hug. “Oh my God,” she sniffled, her voice shaking with relief. “I thought you’d died.”

Yeah, Jane thought to herself. She thought so too.

She peeled Amanda’s arms off. “What happened?”

Her best friend pouted. “You fell. Took a tumble down the steps. And then we had to call an ambulance, because—” she glanced away guiltily, “—you were unconscious and I couldn’t carry you on my own.”

The scene flashed through Jane’s mind in slow motion. Her attempt to demand compensation from Marcus, the slip and the great fall. She facepalmed with a loud, mortified groan, peeking through her fingers. “Please,” she begged. “Tell me nobody saw it happen? I don’t think I’d be able to live if even one person…” she trailed off.

Amanda was looking at her weirdly. Jane squinted, zeroing in on her brow. It was her best friend tell-tale sign. Her right brow wouldn’t stop twitching when she was concealing something or lying to Jane. It was doing so now, like an exposed live wire in a bubble bath, dancing all over the place.

“Oh god.” She couldn’t breathe. “Oh god. Please say no, Amanda,” Jane pleaded. The horror that was going through her mind was unbearable, because one of her biggest fears had come to pass.

“Okay…” she tried to pull herself together, taking deep breaths and pressing a hand down her chest. “One or two people saw me. Just tell me they didn’t immediately whip out their phones while you waited for the ambulance?”

Amanda shook her head slowly.

Jane wanted the hospital floor to open up a gaping black hole and swallow her. “Show me,” she croaked.

“I don’t think you want to see it,” her best friend protested weakly.

Her hand shot out, her expression stern. “If there a video of me on the internet that I didn’t consent to, then I want to see it.” She said hoarsely, hand still stretched out. Amanda’s shoulders drooped as she walked over to a chair in the corner of the room, picking up a tiny bag. She brought out a phone with a plain black pouch, her thumb scrolling the screen.

Her gaze lowered as she walked back to Jane’s bed, handing her the phone.

There was a video on pause.

“The video is on my phone?” Jane asked with an incredulous scoff. She shook her head. She couldn’t deal with the technicalities of that right now. She pressed play—

It was worse than she’d thought. Worse than anything she imagined. The video began playing from when she fell, hitting the ground with a thud. Someone had screamed and then there was more shouting, with the camera angle too shaky to make anything out.

Then it panned to her face.

Her unmoving face. The person videoing had taken their time to film her slowly, panning it down her chest—where the ugly soda stain had spread across her chest—to her jeans and her foot. She had one sneaker on. The second must’ve flown down when she took the tumble. Then it moved, to the audience.

…to the hundreds of people with their phones pointed at her unconscious body.

“Ugh. I bet she fell because she couldn’t carry her body.”

“She should be in the gym or doing lipo instead of dragging her overweight self here.”

The comments. They just kept coming, each one worse than the last.

“You’ve seen enough.” Amanda snatched the phone from her hand. “It doesn’t matter what they think,” she said firmly, as if Jane needed the vote of confidence. “The doctor said the damage wasn’t extensive. They want to watch you for today and they’ll discharge you tomorrow morning.”

Jane couldn’t speak.

She was frozen in the moment—back in the video—still watching herself. Tears gathered in a lump at the base of her throat. She could deal with mean comments. She’d developed thick skin through the years, but not when she couldn’t defend herself. When she was helpless and vulnerable.

Amanda saw the first tear before it fell.

“Jane—” she rushed forward.

“I want to be alone.” Her voice broke as she laid down slowly, turning her back to her best friend. She bit her lower lip until it hurt, fighting the tears. She wasn’t going to cry. Not today. Not while her skull still felt like it was about to split into two.

She heard Amanda’s reluctant retreating footsteps. As the door opened, something occurred to her.

“Who paid for the room?” she asked, turning around.

Amanda smiled brightly as she waved her hands. Too bright. “You don’t have to worry about that. Just get better, hm?”

In other words, she had to be worried. “Who?” She asked. “Because I know you have bad credit and a bunch of credit cards to pay off.”

“You think I can’t do something nice for my friend?” Amanda sounded offended as she thrust her hands on her hips. Jane levelled her with a look. She broke after a few seconds, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m sorry. It’s just that they wanted payment as soon as they were done stitching up the wound and then he came and he just took over. He was willing to pay for a VIP room and I couldn’t say no.”

He? Who was Amanda talking about?

The door opened before Jane could ask. A man walked in, wearing a helmet. The visor was down, covering his entire face.

“Who are you?”

He took it off, slowly. The first thing she saw were his eyes. Those bright brown eyes and his annoying jawline and the stupid mouth that had the smug smile. Marcus Wolfe.

“Y—you?!” She shot up, pointing at him. He was the reason she was here, with a humiliating video of her circulating the internet. “You…” she gritted her teeth. She couldn’t say the words she really wanted to use.

Smug, infuriating, egoistic ASSHOLE. “Asshat!” She settled for the closest thing. “What do you want? To finish what you started? Knock me out a second time so I can end up in a coma so I don’t have to see your stupid face?”

“No, no.” Amanda stepped forward, holding out both hands like a mediator. She sighed. “He followed the ambulance here, Jane.”

Jane snorted. “So?” she folded her arms as she tipped her head, glaring dagger at him. “It’s his fault. I am going to sue you to one inch of your life,” she hissed.

Her best friend dropped her hands with a big sigh. “He forfeited his race too. He’s been here since. And,” Amanda smiled awkwardly. “He’s the one who paid for the medical bills and upgraded your room. He’s sorry. I think you should forgive him.”

Oh, she would.

She stared at him straight in the eye as she said, with a bright grin that felt euphoric,

“ hell freezes over.”