Striker’s Claim by Lila Fox
Chapter Two
Striker and his men walked into the diner. They were all tired from their last drug run and just wanted to eat and get home to their beds.
He wiped a hand down his face as he listened to a few of his men argue. Jesus, they acted like five-year-olds sometimes, and he just wanted to bash their heads together.
He glanced around and caught sight of the woman he came to see. The food the diner served was good, but he was there so he could watch her a few times a month.
Kristina. He’d asked the other waitress about her the first time he’d caught sight of her, and he’d gotten her name and a bit about her life. Tammy had told him about Kristina’s sister and what a bitch she was to her, and it pissed Striker off that he couldn’t do anything to help her.
“I’m going to get two meals. I’m fucking hungry.”
Striker rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Taz, you’re always hungry.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
Several of the men jumped in and started insulting Taz about where he’d like to grow, and then they heckled him about his penis size.
Striker ignored them and kept his attention on the waitress. He didn’t know what it was about her that grabbed his attention. She was pretty in a wholesome kind of way that he’d never before been attracted to. She was heavier than the woman he usually had around him, but instead of turning him off, it made him hotter than hell.
If he thought he wouldn’t scare the hell out of her, he’d try to get into her pants, but she had good girl written all over her, and he’d never had one of them and didn’t know how to handle them. He was used to barking and having women fall all over themselves to get to him and please him.
Her long hair was up in a high ponytail, and he always had the urge to rip the band off to see how long it was. She’d never gotten close enough for him to get a good look at her eyes, but what he could see of them, they were a light color he’d never seen before.
Fuck, no matter how many times he told himself to stay away and that he’d never have her, it didn’t matter. If he had the time, he’d come and watch her for an hour or so. It filled something inside of him that he’d never admit to anyone. The only one who knew of his attraction was his Vice Prez, Feral, and he’d never say anything.
He had, in fact, encouraged him to ask her to spend time with him. But what in the fuck would they do? Go on a date and maybe go to a movie or have a nice walk in the park?
He snorted to himself. Fuck no. He didn’t do movies or parks, and he couldn’t see her wanting to come home with him so he could fuck her brains out.
Feral jabbed his elbow into his side. “Man, talk to her. From the way she looks at you, she wants you as bad as you want her.”
“Not fucking going to happen,” Striker said. “Enough.” He growled when Feral opened his mouth to argue. “Nothing can happen. We’re from two different worlds.”
“Well, for the record, I think it’s bullshit.”
“Fuck you. Let’s just order. I want to get some sleep.”
Tammy came over and took their orders. He grabbed her arm when she turned to leave. “What’s the bitch sister been up to?”
“The usual. She comes in and orders Kristina around, and expects her to feed her. The woman is beyond a bitch, and I wish Kristina would walk away from her, but she feels obligated.”
“Because she took care of her after the mom died?”
“Yeah, but Casey uses it as a way to control Kristina, and it fucking sucks.”
Striker nodded. “Go get our food.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He and his men ate and joked around for a while, and his attention went from them to her.
Every time he and Kristina caught each other looking at the other, they both seemed to freeze.
Fuck, he needed to get out of this place. “Come on, men, finish up. I’ve got work to do.”
The bell on the front door rang, making him look up. Ah, the bitchy sister was dropping by. He’d seen her a few times, but now that he knew what the situation was, he wanted to watch them interact with each other.
Right away, he could see what Tammy was talking about. Casey treated Kristina horribly, and he couldn’t understand why she put up with it.
He tried to tell himself to mind his own business, but his feelings prevented him from ignoring the situation.
“We’re done.”
Striker looked up to see his men waiting for him. Fuck, he wanted to watch more but knew his men would start asking questions he didn’t know the answers to.
He stood and threw several bills down for the food and tip before walking toward the door. When he got about even with her, he tipped his head and walked out, ignoring the hateful look her sister threw his way because as much as he wanted to string her up and let her rot, he didn’t have the right.
He could still dream about it, though.
