Claimed By The Biker Colusses

Touch Her And Face The Mountain

Gunshots cracked through the night like thunder.

I was halfway down the hallway when the first one popped — sharp, close, coming from the south fence. The party noise died instantly. Men shouted. Boots pounded. I froze, heart slamming against my ribs.

“Reapers!” someone roared.

I should have run to my room like Colossus ordered. Instead my hand closed around the wrench in my back pocket and I moved toward the sound.

The main room was chaos. Patched members grabbed guns and vests. Diamond and the club girls ducked behind the bar. Rogue was already at the door, barking orders.

Then Colossus exploded through the side entrance like a freight train. His massive frame was coiled tight, pale gray eyes scanning the room until they locked on me. Relief and fury warred on his face.

“Get back!” he snarled, crossing the floor in three strides. One huge hand wrapped around my upper arm — firm but never crushing — and pulled me behind him.

“I can help,” I protested, wrench raised like it could stop bullets.

His voice dropped to a lethal growl. “You stay behind me. They asked for you by name. That means they die first.”

Another shot rang out. Glass shattered somewhere outside. Colossus shoved me toward the hallway, his body a living shield. I felt every inch of him — the heat, the solid wall of muscle, the way his back flexed under the leather cut as he moved.

We made it ten feet when the side door burst open.

Three Shadow Reapers stormed in, cuts flapping, guns up. The lead one — Blade, the same smug bastard from the gate earlier — spotted me and grinned.

“There’s the little mechanic b***h. Marco said she’s worth her weight in custom parts.”

Colossus didn’t hesitate.

He moved like lightning wrapped in stone. One massive fist slammed into the first Reaper’s jaw with a sickening crunch. The man flew backward into the wall. The second Reaper fired — the bullet whined past my ear. Colossus roared and grabbed the gun arm, twisting until bone snapped. The third tried to reach me.

Colossus’s hand shot out and closed around the man’s throat, lifting him clean off the ground. The Reaper’s feet kicked uselessly in the air. Colossus’s arm didn’t even tremble under the weight.

“You don’t touch her,” he said, voice calm and terrifying. “Ever.”

The man’s face turned purple. His eyes bulged.

I saw the flicker in Colossus’s eyes — that haunted shadow, the fear he carried like a second skin. He was holding back. I could feel it in the way his fingers didn’t fully close, the way his shoulders shook with the effort of control.

“Colossus,” I whispered, stepping closer despite everything. My hand brushed his back. “He’s not worth it.”

For a second his grip tightened — then he hurled the Reaper out the door like a rag doll. The other two scrambled after him, bleeding and broken.

Silence crashed over the room.

Colossus turned to me slowly. His chest heaved. Blood speckled his knuckles, but none of it was his. Those gray eyes searched my face like he expected to see terror.

“You’re shaking,” he said roughly.

“Not from fear.” I lifted my chin, stepping into his space until my boots touched his. “From how fast you moved. For me.”

His massive hand rose, hovering inches from my cheek. I could feel the heat rolling off his palm. He wanted to touch me — I saw it in the way his fingers curled — but he stopped himself.

“I could’ve killed him,” he muttered. “One second longer and I would have. That’s what I do, Lena. I break things when I stop thinking.”

I reached up and caught his wrist, guiding his hand the rest of the way. His palm cupped my face — enormous, rough, trembling with restraint. The size difference should have scared me. Instead it felt like the safest place in the world.

“You didn’t break me,” I whispered.

His thumb brushed my cheekbone, feather-light. The giant was holding his own strength on the shortest leash imaginable, all for me.

Rogue’s voice cut through the moment. “South fence is clear, but they’ll be back. President wants church in ten.”

Colossus didn’t move. His hand stayed on my face a heartbeat longer, gray eyes stormy with everything he wouldn’t say.

Then he stepped back, the wall slamming into place again.

“Lock yourself in,” he ordered, voice hoarse. “I’ll come check on you after.”

As he walked away, shoulders rigid, knuckles still bleeding, I pressed my fingers to the spot his hand had been.

The Reapers had come for me.

But the real war — the one that made my heart race and my walls crumble — was the one happening every time Colossus chose to be gentle with a man who believed he was only capable of destruction.