Divorced And Claimed By A Biker

3

**Thalia

How long did I sleep? When I woke up, it was still dark, but I couldn't understand at first who it was beside me and where I lay my head. I slowly moved my body, and the first person that came to mind was Dante.

My eyes snapped open. I was about to slam my hand to his face when my hand was held in the air, my heart racing in rage. But looking at the side view of the person, I realised he wasn't who I thought, and my shoulder dropped immediately.

He finally turned before letting go of my hand. “You slept really long,” he muttered and stood up.

Who was he? I hadn't seen such a person before.

Then it clicked in. The man who had ridden in here before I dozed off. How did he wait here until now? I was expecting him to leave upon seeing the non-functional state I was in at the moment.

I looked at my body, and it was his jacket on my legs. It was leather and smelled of patches.

‘A biker?’ I thought before standing to my feet. I winced at the sudden throbbing on my forehead and then realised how much I drank and how I needed a hangover soup at this point for relief.

I looked up at the man and walked closer to him, then handed over his jacket. “Thank you, but you shouldn't have stayed until now. I would still be safe alone here.”

“In that state?” he asked and scoffed, then turned to his bike. “I need this repaired before I leave. That's why I waited until now,” he added, and I reached for his bike.

“What's the problem?’ I asked, softly wincing from my headache and hoping that I could settle him real quick so I could start heading back home and take care of myself. He explained everything in detail, and I got to work instantly.

It wasn't that much work for someone like me, so it took just less than thirty minutes for me to get everything ready. “Test-ride it before leaving,” I said to the man, and he nodded. He put on his jacket, which I had given back, and climbed onto his bike.

He had such a good look that I couldn't stop admiring him. His full-sleeve tattoo on his left arm, which I also thought could contain part of his body because it reached up to half of his neck, his well-sculpted face, and light beard. He had cornrows that I could run my finger through; his Adam's apple bobbled, causing me to take a deep gulp too.

Watching as he rode off, I slapped my cheek slightly. ‘Don't be stupid, Lia. He is a man too and would be no different with Dante.’ I reminded myself and folded my arms across my chest. ‘Bikers are even the worst. They f**k around with women as if they are nothing and are so violent.’

With all those reasons I gave myself, I had no reason to fantasize about him because he looked like a well-sculpted demigod.

By the time he returned to the workshop, he climbed off and handed over some cash to me. “It's very perfect. How long have you been here?” he asked while I was busy counting the money. “I didn't know this workshop existed and was even owned by a woman.”

“The money is over your charges,” I said, giving back some of it.

But he shook his head, “Let's say it's my way of complimenting your handwork. You did so much better than I expected, and even faster than most men mechanics out there. You have a nice skill, and I like it.”

I was immobile, just staring at the first person aside from my mum to compliment my handwork.

Dante never complimented me, but never complained too, so I saw no issue with it. He looked so happy checking on his bike.

“Well, thank you so much. And you are welcome to get me more jobs. Tell your biker friends too.” I responded and put the money into the pocket of my uniform.

He got on his bike again, his roaring engine could awaken the birds that were asleep, and then he zoomed off. I stared until he was no longer in sight again, then I brought out the money and recounted it.

“This is the caregiver's salary,” I muttered, at least seeing a reason to smile even with my headache. “I'm going to give him credit for looking good too and with a kind heart.”

I never knew that someday someone would be so impressed by my skill. The people I repaired their bikes sometimes made fun of me being a tomboy and doing a man's job so well, but their tone could lower someone's self-esteem.

The f*****g Freda that I just ended things with was like that too, and I called it nothing because we laughed it all out. She was toxic to be a friend, and I didn't see it until now.

“I have to go stay with mum tonight,” I muttered and decided to call on the caregiver. I requested she make a hangover soup for me and that I would be around in a few minutes. No need to disturb her when I got there because I knew the passcode, but I couldn't make the soup with how my head was banging.

Tonight, I would also pay her and even add extra because she always did a good job.

A few minutes later, I was already riding back to my mum's home. Now that I have divorced Dante, I would return to stay with her once my lease expired, so I wouldn't be spending much. I can also save up now since I wouldn't be feeding a grown man.

Once I arrived and settled, the caregiver handed over to me the hangover soup she prepared.

“How's my mum doing?” I asked and took a sip from the plate.

“Improving rapidly. She can now walk on her own.”

My eyes flew wide, “Really? She can now walk?”

She nodded, returning my smile.

Another reason to be happy tonight. This was something I'd hoped for in years, and this caregiver helped me achieve it in just less than a year of her working here.

“I would talk to her before leaving tomorrow. You should go to sleep too." I said, and she nodded before getting back into her room.

I would sleep on the couch, because it was two rooms, and I didn't want to disturb my mum on the bed. If I packed in here, then I would get another bed set in my mum's room, or maybe we just get another apartment and stay all together.

‘Mum is walking.’ I thought and licked my lips.

She had gotten in an accident five years ago and stayed in a coma for a year, only to wake up without knowing how to walk again, with some other petty sickness that she developed, and I hired nurses to take care of her until she was left with just her legs.

And now she has started walking already? Oh my God!

I pulled out my cell phone, which was ringing, and it was Dante calling. “How did I forget to delete your contact? And why is he even calling?” I steupsed and hung up, only for a message to follow up. “What the f**k is wrong with this man?” I frowned and opened the message, only to see the previous ones he'd sent already.

I got seated and began scrolling up, my blood boiling from reading the shits he'd sent to me.