Cary (Henchmen MC Next Generation #5) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Henchmen MC Next Generation Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
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“But cartel leaders really do have eyes everywhere,” Cary filled in.

“Exactly,” I agreed, nodding. “I’d always known his reach was far, but I think I underestimated how far. I managed to fly under the radar thanks to the hair change and all the makeup, but no matter how far I got from Raúl’s house, I could see the eyes scanning the crowd. At the border crossing, there were actually a couple guys flashing my picture around on their phones.”

“That must have been terrifying.”

If there was a word that meant something worse than terrifying, that was exactly what it had been.

I managed to take my full deep breath a state or two after I got over the border, but it wasn’t until I tracked down Cary that I felt like there was a chance I was going to get away with it.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I know I have no place coming here,” I started, sucking in a steadying breath. “I just… I had nowhere else to go,” I admitted. “You’re the only person I know that is, you know…”

“A criminal,” he filled in for me, making my guilty gaze rise, feeling like scum for thinking of him that way, even if it was true. “It’s okay, love, you can say it. I’ve been a criminal since I was hardly more than a kid. It doesn’t offend me that you’d call me that. It’s what I am.”

“It sounds judgmental.”

“It depends on who is saying it. I’m not taking offense from you. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you find me?”

“Well, I knew that when you got out, you would go back to what was familiar. Bike clubs. I used some logic, location-wise. And then I just… watched a couple clubs, trying to find you.”

“You watched bike clubs? Outlaw bike clubs?”

“I, ah, yeah. I realize how dangerous that seems,” I admitted. “But, honestly, it was a hell of a lot safer than not finding someone to help me, and risking Raúl finding me.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed.

“I lucked out here in Navesink Bank. I asked a couple questions at the local coffee shop about the club members, saying I was looking for an old friend. The girls working there told me there was someone named Cary at the club. I figured there wasn’t much of a chance that there were multiple guys named Cary in one-percent bike clubs. So I showed up. And Mr. Congeniality told me he would go get you.”

At that, Cary let out a little dry laugh.

“Yeah, Voss is, well, practically feral. I’m glad you found me Abigail.”

“I’m not asking for much,” I rushed to say, not wanting him to think I was going to ask for cash or something based on some silly mail relationship we’d had ages ago. “Just some, you know, advice would be really appreciated.”

“Advice,” he repeated, reaching up to run a hand through that salt and pepper beard that had no right to be as appealing as it was.

“Yeah, just, I don’t know. Like how I could maybe disappear or whatever. I don’t know where to go, or what to do when I get there. Like how not to leave a paper trail, so I can stay under the radar.”

God, I sounded ridiculous, didn’t I?

“Or, I don’t know. Like where I might be able to get a fake ID and passport or something. I guess the further I get, the harder I would be to find. I mean, I don’t have any money right now. But I will find some little jobs or something to earn what I will need. I will do anything,” I added, desperation slipping into my voice.

To that, Cary took a slow, deep breath that widened his strong chest. And, yes, despite myself—and the crazy situation—I noticed that somehow.

“Okay,” he said, flattening his hand on the table. “Maybe I can do better than making you disappear to some foreign country,” he said, getting to his feet. “But I need to talk to my president first to clear it with him.”

“I, ah, okay. Yeah. I’d really appreciate anything you could help me with, Cary, really. Anything. I know you don’t owe me because of some silly little correspondence years ago.”

“Love, there was nothing silly about that. Those letters kept me going during one of the roughest periods of my life,” he told me, voice so deep, eyes so intense, that I felt my belly flutter at his words, at the sincerity there was to them. “So, no, I don’t owe you. But I do owe you. Let me work some shit out. You hang out around the main area or my room while I figure it out.”

He was gone before I could agree.

CHAPTER SIX

Cary

My head was still spinning as I got back out to my bike, sitting down on the seat, and taking a minute to get my thoughts in order before I took off to try to find Fallon.


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