Page 4 of Hero: Claimed

She walks out from the back, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Visitor.” I motion with my head to her sister. Her eyes follow my lead, then her mouth gapes open.

“Brin? Brinley, is that really you?Ohmygod.” Then she rushes the woman next to me and throws her arms around her in a tight hug. “It’s been so many years,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

Brinley. I’d never even asked her name.

Hannah and Brinley couldn’t look more different. Their big tits are about the only thing they have in common. That and the length of their hair. Hannah’s is a light brown with streaks of golden blonde framing her face. She has hazel eyes; they shine with more yellow than green in the mix. Nowhere near the exoticness of her sister.

But where Brinley looks thick, Hannah is streamline. Ass, stomach, thighs. Though, she would be fit. Her body is her moneymaker. She’s a dancer at the club, one of the businesses the MC owns. Works a pole like no one I’ve ever seen and that moneymaker is made for sex, leaving a trail of wet dreams in her wake. I’ve never had her. It became perfectly clear from early on, practically since she came to stay with us as a hot mama, that Blood has the hots for her. In a way more than for sex. In a way that makes me wonder why he hasn’t taken her on as his old lady yet. She doesn’t sleep around.

Hot mamas often sleep with the brothers, but from the very beginning, Hannah’s arrangement was different. She needs protection from something no one talks about and she needs a place to stay. In return, she cooks and cleans. Does laundry. Generally, takes care of the brothers who live here full-time.

Brothers like Blood.

Or me.

Our president, Duke, walks in the front door.The typically gruff, tatted-up man doesn’t look so gruff this morning. He’s smiling. It appears he got him some this morning. Not surprised, his wife is hot with a capital H. That wavy, fiery red hair and lush curves. All tits and ass, no stomach or thighs.And she’s a doctor. Best of all, she makes him happy. The man smiles all the time now. A big change from the years after his first wife passed. With two kids, one a baby, I’d think they’d be too sleep-deprived for sex. Too grumpy to be smiling this early on a Sunday.

“What’s up, Prez?” I ask.

“Saw a car turn in the courtyard from my window. Didn’t recognize it. Thought I’d come check it out while Doc feeds Diesel. Then I gotta head back. We got a fun day of being lazy planned.”

“Sounds like heaven,” I tease.

“Don’t knock it ’til you try it, brother. Never happier than lazing in bed with my girls, and now my boy, on the weekend. We eat doughnuts and drink orange juice and watch movies. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Blood walks into the common wearing nothing but red-and-white striped boxers, scratching his ass. He kisses Hannah on the cheek, dips his chin to each of us, but then stops dead as he takes in the new chick in our midst.He looks so much like his younger sister Liv, who happens to be one of our brother’s, Chaos’s, old lady. They both have strawberry blond hair and blue eyes. On her it’s unbelievably hot, on him it’s unnerving. Even his lashes are that color. It’s not natural for a man to have lashes the same color as his hair. Or if it is, it shouldn’t be natural.

“Who’re you?” he asks.

“This is my sister, Blood. This is Brinley.” Hannah beams when she introduces her. “Brin, this is my friend Blood.” Then she turns to Duke. “And that is the club’s president, Duke. Of course, you’ve met Hero.”

Brinley waves at us. By the look on her face, she’s clearly taking it all in. Though she doesn’t appear intimidated. Most people get real nervous around us.

“It’s been what? Six or seven years?” Hannah asks. “Since I left home.”

“Since youran awayfrom home,” Brinley corrects her, and I see Hannah wince.

“Yes,” Hannah says. “Since I ran away.” She keeps her eyes cast down to the floor. Then she clears her throat and looks up. “What brings you all the way here? How’d you find me?”

With her gaze darting to each of us, Brinley’s eyes finally come to rest and lock on her sister’s. She sucks in a big breath before she answers. “The postcard you sent. Greetings fromThornbriar,Kentucky. When I got here, I started asking around at gas stations and fast food joints, pretty much any business I came to. ‘Do you know Hannah Brown?’ when I’d get a yes, I’d ask, ‘where can I find her?’ You should be happy to know the people here are protective of you. It took forever to find someone who would tell me where to find you.” Brinley swallows hard; pain etched all over her face. “I need your help. Dad sold me, Hannah.For crank.” Then she begins to tear up.

Fuck, I hate seeing women cry. But then it registers, what she actually said. My muscles grow taut.

“He sold me to some sweaty, beefy guy who refused to wear a shirt under his cut. The guy shoved me up against the wall and ripped my top up. Sissy, he started groping me. Hard. Right in front of dad.” Those tears in her eyes begin to spill down over her cheeks.

My gut clenches, and I take a step to comfort her before I stop myself.

Brinley’s voice drops. She sniffles. “When I started to struggle, he slapped me and told me I should just enjoy it.” Then her voice drops to hardly a whisper. “He said someone my size should be glad to have a man touch me at all. Sissy…” She cries louder. “He had a hairy back and shoulders, and no neck.”

Hannah gasps, and I assume not from the hairy-back-and-no-neck revelation.

“The fuck?” Blood snaps. “The guy wore a cut?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“How’d you get away?” Her sister places a comforting hand on Brinley’s shoulder. I still can’t get over how much they don’t look alike. You’d think with the same father they’d havesomesimilarities aside from massive tits. Because I’m not totally sure Hannah’s are real.

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