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    Rebel's Claim: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance: Apaches MC, #3
    Rebel's Claim: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance: Apaches MC, #3
    Rebel's Claim: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance: Apaches MC, #3
    Ebook114 pages1 hour

    Rebel's Claim: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance: Apaches MC, #3

    By Claire St. Rose

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    About this ebook

    Rebel's Claim is book 3 and the finale of the Apaches MC trilogy!

    I WON'T STOP UNTIL I GET WHAT'S MINE

    I'm a monster who likes it rough.

    She's soft, pure, and innocent.
    But that didn't stop me from claiming her.
    And once I had her in my arms, I'm never letting her go.

    I was busy running a war for my club, the Apaches MC.
    She thought we left her friend bloodied and bruised.
    I'd never thought I'd ever be challenged by someone like her.

    So innocent.
    So pure.
    So unaware of the danger she's in when she stepped into my world.

    She doesn't know it yet.
    But I'm everything she didn't know she wanted.
    Everything she never realized she craves .

    She chose to put herself in the devil's cage.
    And now the devil is laying his claim.

    I'm going to break her walls.
    I'm going to take what I want.
    And I won't stop until she's mine.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublishereBook Publishing World
    Release dateApr 29, 2018
    ISBN9781386050643
    Rebel's Claim: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance: Apaches MC, #3

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      Book preview

      Rebel's Claim - Claire St. Rose

      REBEL’S CLAIM: Apaches MC (Book 3)

      By Claire St. Rose

      I WON’T STOP UNTIL I GET WHAT’S MINE

      I’M A MONSTER WHO LIKES it rough.

      She’s soft, pure, and innocent.

      But that didn’t stop me from claiming her.

      And once I had her in my arms, I’m never letting her go.

      I was busy running a war for my club, the Apaches MC.

      She thought we left her friend bloodied and bruised.

      I’d never thought I’d ever be challenged by someone like her.

      So innocent.

      So pure.

      So unaware of the danger she’s in when she stepped into my world.

      She doesn’t know it yet.

      But I’m everything she didn’t know she wanted.

      Everything she never realized she craves .

      She chose to put herself in the devil’s cage.

      And now the devil is laying his claim.

      I’m going to break her walls.

      I’m going to take what I want.

      And I won’t stop until she’s mine.

      Chapter 1: Unanswered

      C all Guzman and tell his men to assemble at the clubhouse. We’ve got work to do, and we’ve got to get it done quick. Send Tomas and another man to the hospital and tell him not to leave the ICU waiting room. He should be looking out for a girl with brown, shoulder-length hair, tan skin, and a blue dress. He’ll know who she is. She’s not to leave the hospital unless I give the all-clear. And if any Aztec tries to get in, they’re allowed to shoot. No questions asked.

      I give my orders as quietly as I can as I sneak past the guards standing ground at the hospital entrance. No one gives me a second look in my scrubs. I’m just another hospital worker trying to get out for his smoke break. Still, I duck a bit and hide my face behind a bouquet of flowers a hospital visitor is bringing out to his car. 

      When I make it outside the lobby, I scan the parking lot for more eyes and ears. There’s a few police officers near the gates, but nothing to be concerned about. They all look passable. And then, I see it. The white and black squad car with the sirens on stand out like a sore thumb against the rest of the civilian cars. I can just make out the figure of someone sitting in the back seat with his head tucked down.

      I walk nonchalantly towards my bike and wheel it towards a line of cars parked nearest to the cop. It’s just out of view of the few officers standing by the open door as they take down the man’s information. I grab my phone and text Rafael the location: Distract them, I type furiously, as I listen for the sound of his vintage Harley to roar past.

      When he does, it’s in a blaze of smoke. He’s removed his tailpipe causing billows of gray and black to flow out of his motorcycle. To add to the madness, he does some loops around the car with his tires screeching and crying at each hairpin turn. The cops look at one another, completely bewildered, as they walk towards the squad car in front of them to get a better view.

      This is my chance. I pick up my chopper and walk it slowly towards the car where the man in the back seat is looking more delighted than terrified. Most likely, he thinks Rafael is one of his own. But when he sees my face, his smug smile twists. He tries to yell, but I’m on him before his mouth can open fully. I punch him hard with my fist, causing his head to splatter and bounce against the leather seats. The blow knocks him out immediately, giving me time to hoist him up over my shoulder and to use a bungee strap to tie him to my back. The cops only give me a brief glance, as I ride the motorcycle into the haze and smog with the man flopping around in my bucket.

      I meet Rafael at the front of the hospital parking lot. Sirens are blasting in the background just in time for the bewildered officers to notice they’ve got an escapee. I turn to my partner and say quickly, You ready to ride? The man nods at me and I place my helmet on and power up the engine to a deafening roar of fury. I take the lead with Rafael only a few feet behind me, watching the man on my back as he starts to come to.

      We don’t have far to go, but we still blaze through every red light, swerving as pedestrians try crossing in front. Above, a helicopter swarms, causing all my alarm bells to ring. I have to think fast or the police will be on us at any second. I make a quick hand sign to Rafael before leaping onto the sidewalk under the cover of a pergola. We dive into an underground parking lot, avoiding the closing gates and the thunderous speed bumps. Security guards dive out of their booths in an attempt to stop us, but we’re already out of view.

      Rafael rides next to me and points out the one-way exit where the cops are most likely waiting. Instead, we slow near the third floor exit to the alley. There’s a bank of service elevators just in the corner, a perfect fit for two cycles. The silver metal doors swing open with a thud, and we load ourselves up tightly against the walls.

      Rafael leans over and says loudly, The bastard’s waking. Want me to do anything about it?

      Take him out.

      Rafael reaches behind him into his backpack and pulls a tire iron out. I feel the man’s head whip against my jacket. I turn back to Rafael who is wiping the blood and hair off of his weapon of choice. Damn. Don’t get blood on this. I just washed it.

      Sorry, Prez. He grins at me, as the doors open to the outside. The alley is empty, and all but deserted save a few homeless men lounging outside. I again take the lead position, this time going slowly. If I was going to get out of this mess and away from the helicopter’s cameras, I had to be cool about this. I couldn’t look like a guilty party on the move.

      I take the alley straight down for several blocks, stopping at each intersection to scan for anyone who would take notice of us. Finally, I get brave, pulling us back onto the main stretch of streets and following the flow of traffic. I don’t pull anything slick and stick to the civilian biker code. No passing. No speeding. No revving up the engines. I look like a normal guy having a bit of a joyride with a buddy on his back. Albeit a buddy with a gaping head wound.

      At our last red light, Rafael and I watch smugly as a parade of cops pass by at the intersection, not even aware that three cars back were the boys they were looking for. A car pulls alongside us and a balding man smoking a short cigar yells, What’s going on out there? They closed down all the roads?

      Rafael turns and smiles at him coyly. Beats us. Sounds like someone on the run. Hopefully they get out of town. I always like a good police chase. I do my best not to laugh, but as the man rolls up his window and the red turns to green, every bit of me howls in celebration. We’re in the clear, for now. And there isn’t going to be any copper to stop us.

      The clubhouse is packed with bikes and cars we don’t instantly recognize. Men speaking quickly in Spanish linger outside the door smoking cigarettes and pointing at us as we park. One runs out and helps untie the man off of my bike. I order him and the others to place him in the back of an unmarked black van underneath a hatch we designed especially for this purpose.

      Inside, my leaders are gathering up info. They are hunched over their phones and peering at maps as if it will answer some unknown questions about where the Aztecs are and where they plan on hitting when the word gets out we have one of their men. In the distance, I hear the police scanner.

      What are the boys in blue saying? I ask as I grab a water bottle from the fridge and sit at my place at the long wood table.

      "They think it’s the

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