Claimed By The Biker President

My grandfather left me a dead garage on a cold road outside Calgary, eleven hundred dollars and a set of keys. Everybody in my family told me to sell it. I told all of them no.

Then eleven bikes rolled into my yard and the man who got off last did not take his helmet off until he was already inside my building.

Cole Donovan runs the Black Ravens. He paid me in cash, in advance, for work I had not done yet. He put a new roof on my second bay and told me it was nothing. He looked at my floor more than he looked at me, and I was too busy being grateful to ask why.

I thought a man was rescuing me. He was keeping me. And under the concrete in my third bay was the reason.