The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Mon, 28 Sep 2020 22:12:43 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Colson (The Henchmen MC #20) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.ilovenovels.com/colson-the-henchmen-mc-20-read-online-jessica-gadziala Mon, 28 Sep 2020 21:42:27 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/colson-the-henchmen-mc-20-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Colson (The Henchmen MC #20)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
The club has known peace for so long. Too long, it seemed. And now the president is missing, the supply chain is drying up, and there are threats from within and out. Colson should have had nothing else on his mind. But then there she was. The new neighbor. A woman with her hands full of her own problems should have sent him running, but he just couldn't seem to stay away. As pressure mounts for the club, Colson finds himself facing choices he hoped to never make and a woman he hopes to never let go of...
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala

PROLOGUE

Reign

The supply chain was unsteady.

After a couple decades of this shit, I'd like to think I could tell when the market was hitting a normal lull, and when something else was going on.

I'd bet my savings on it being the latter.

Something was fucked.

Or someone was fucking with us.

The question was who.

Who the hell would fuck with us now, of all times? When things were stable? When the wars had been waged? When we had secured the market in the area.

Yeah, there would always be competition. There would always be someone trying to take what was yours. But, generally speaking, you went for the lowest men on the totem pole first. You didn't go right up to the top and try to take out the most successful player in the game in the area. And from what I could tell, all the lesser gun runners were doing fine. Not thriving like we had been for a long time, but not hurting, either. And if we were hurting they damn well should have been. If it was a market thing.

So it wasn't.

We were being targeted.

Someone was trying to take what was ours.

This was personal.

The problem was—who the fuck was holding a grudge now? Or maybe it wasn't about old grievances. Maybe it was about balls. They wanted the bragging rights they'd get by cutting the supply chain to the longest-running arms-dealing operation in the tristate area?

Yeah, I could see it being that.

No one else was stupid enough to fuck with an established organization.

"Fuck," I sighed, pulling off my helmet, raking a hand down my face, feeling the stubble scratch my fingers.

I'd been suspecting things for weeks, but as one of my oldest contacts suddenly stopped responding to me, it was time to bring the others into the fold.

We were having church.

The bikes were all lined up. The wet dirt and gleaming chrome implying that someone had been fucking with the prospects for the past couple of hours.

A tired smile tugged at my lips as I climbed off my bike. It was nice to have things back to normal, to have the patched guys forcing pointless busy work on the new ones. Even if two of those new ones were my sons. They got no special treatment because of their relation. If anything, they got dragged even more than any other prospective members did.

Which was just as well. Fallon needed some humility. Finn needed some toughening up. It built character to scrub the toilet with a toothbrush and wash and rewash twenty-something bikes multiple times a day.

If I knew the prospects—and I did seeing as they all grew up in the club, save for two—then I knew how they were handling it.

Fallon was cursing under his breath, but doing his damndest to make sure that everything was done perfectly. The oldest son of the president had a lot to prove.

Finn was doing the bare minimum, rolling his eyes at his brother when he ragged on him for his lack of work ethic. Malc was seeking out any job that involved being outside. All of them were likely having a rough time adjusting to living together in the barracks-style bedroom, never having a chance to get away from each other, always having to tolerate one another's bullshit.

They'd been raised as siblings, as cousins, but becoming brothers in this way required more of them.

They were learning the toll that took on them.

"Yo, you," I called to Brooks—one of the two non-legacy prospects—a kid all of nineteen with dark skin, light brown eyes, and the build of a high school linebacker. Finn had brought him around to one of the barbecues. And after a couple weeks of listening to my son bitch about thinking he would be a good addition to the club, I let him join the prospects.

He was humbler than Fallon, a better worker than Finn, and more communicative than Malc. As it turned out, Finn was right. He was a balance they needed. Someone young and hungry, but more hardened by life, someone who wanted this for a reason that had nothing to do with legacy.

"Yeah, Pres?" he asked, jogging over.

"I need you to round up the other prospects. Then I need you all to check every inch of the perimeter fence for breaks." It was a big yard. It would keep them busy well beyond church being over. And judging by the small tug at Brooks's lips, he knew that as well, and was looking forward to being the one to give the bad news to the others.

"Got it, Pres."

"Oh, and tell my son that my bike needs cleaning too," I added, feeling my own lips curve up.

"Which one?"

"Whichever one wants to prove himself more today."

They'd fight over it. Fallon and Finn. While Fallon was the more ambitious of the two, Finn had always been hungry for approval from me.

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West Read online Jessica Gadziala (The Henchmen MC #19) http://www.ilovenovels.com/west-19-read-online-jessica-gadziala Tue, 07 May 2019 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/west-19-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	West (The Henchmen MC #19)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
He thought it would be a fun vacation. Head down the coast. Get some sun. Chase some skirts. Get to know the guys from the new chapter. Nothing more serious than that. Until he met her. Then, well, things got a hell of a lot more serious.
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala

PROLOGUE

Reign

Why him?

That was the question I got from every-fucking-body when I brought up the idea.

Of sending West.

Ever since I'd started tossing the idea back and forth with the senior brothers in the club, we had been trying to decide who would be best to send down to Florida to meet the men, get to know them, and decide if there was even a remote possibility of turning that crew into Henchmen.

If whoever we sent thought this new crew would work, then we would discuss the whole prospecting process and shit at another time.

This was simply a mission to gather information.

I'd been down there myself before taking off with Summer on a vacation she desperately needed.

I'd met with Huck. We'd talked about the area, the competition, how willing he was to deal with said competition when—not if, when—it came to that point.

I felt comfortable with him.

Rough around the edges, blunt, with a low tolerance for bullshit. He was someone I would have easily let into the club had he decided to prospect in Navesink Bank.

That said, I wasn't really looking to expand Navesink Bank at the moment. Mostly because I had a bunch of fucking kids itching to get their chance to prove themselves. I figured I would have to let them do it at some point or another. Even if a part of me—the part that was a father, not just a club president—wasn't thrilled about the idea of my kids (or the kids of all the other brothers or friends) living the kind of life I had lived.

The violence.

The stress.

The uncertainty.

They could have better than that. I afforded my kids—and the kids of all my men—the chance to do something else with their lives should they want to.

That said, the part of me that had been a headstrong, reckless fucking young adult myself, understood the desire to get in on something like the club, to be a part of a brotherhood, to get a taste of danger.

I couldn't make myself deny them the chance.

As much as Summer—and the other old ladies—would like me to deny them.

So Navesink Bank, for the moment, was set.

But I'd been kicking around the idea of branching out for a long time. Since before Ferryn ran away even. But then life had taken a different turn, and my focus had been put somewhere else.

But she was back.

Things were as calm as they had ever been in Navesink Bank.

I met someone who I believed was capable.

So it was time to give it a try.

Build a real empire.

Something to leave to my stubborn-ass kids.

A legacy.

Like the one my father had left to Cash and me.

But even bigger.

More stable.

Something to be proud of.

Something they could leave to their kids.

My father's club had never been stable enough to expand.

Mine was.

It was time.

And I was sending West.

No one—not even Summer who was kind to damn near everyone—could understand the decision.

West was, after all, a complete and utter pain in the ass. He was like having a fucking fourth kid at times. Always getting into shit. Always needing to be reminded where the line was, and that he needed to stay on the right fucking side of it.

Not a week went by where someone wasn't bitching about something he said or did.

The thing was, that was exactly why I thought he was the man for the job.

"Hear me out," I said to Cash and Wolf who were cradling steaming mugs of coffee between their hands in my kitchen on a Sunday morning, still trying to stage a last-minute intervention to my already-in-motion plans.

"It makes the most sense if you give it five minute's thought."

"Given it more than that," Wolf mumbled.

"Yeah," Cash agreed. "Still can't see it being a good idea. The fucking kid doesn't have a serious bone in his body.

That was actually not true.

West had a very serious side.

It generally came out with his anger, but it was there.

"Look," I said, raking a hand down my face, looking for the patience I found myself short on. It wasn't that I resented their input. Cash and Wolf—and many of the others—had always been a sounding board for me when there were issues in the club. Sometimes, when you were too wrapped up in shit personally, it was hard to see it objectively. Having brothers you could count on for solid advice was important to the running of any successful empire.

That said, we'd been having this fucking talk for weeks. Meaning they threw other names at me while I shot them all down. Because I knew I was right about this decision.

"Huck is the oldest of his men," I reminded them. And by 'oldest,' I just meant the man was thirty-two. Still young, technically. But the rest of his men were in their mid-to-later twenties. "He's single. No kids. No sign on the horizon he'll settle down. Sound like someone you know? He'd relate better to them."

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Camden Read online Jessica Gadziala (Henchmen MC #18) http://www.ilovenovels.com/camden-18-read-online-jessica-gadziala Sun, 15 Jul 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/camden-18-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Camden (The Henchmen MC #18)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
Camden I had spent so much of my life alone, disconnected, unable to form any kind of lasting bonds. After so long, I had begun to believe that was all there would ever be for me, had come to accept it as my reality. Then there she was. Everything I wasn’t, everything I convinced myself I could never have. But, God, I wanted. Annie I had been on my own for so long. Hopping states, changing towns, never able to put down roots, make friends, form connections. It was how it had to be. There was no other option for me. I had long since learned to come to peace with that. Until Cam. Until there was a reason to want to stay, to want to build with someone, to finally get all the things I had been denied. Even as I started to let myself believe any of that was possible, my past found me once again, ripped everything away from me. Ripped him away from me. And everything we had just begun to explore.
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala Books

ONE

Camden

I moved out of the clubhouse.

I still spent a lot of time there, of course. That was what you did. What I did. Since Liv was off raising babies and Astrid was off chasing chickens around.

I wouldn't claim it wasn't an adjustment, a big one. I went from being surrounded by women, by their shoes scattered around, their makeup piled on the counters, their blankets everywhere, their music blasting, the high, musical sound of their laughter or late-night conversations.

Then, suddenly, I was in a clubhouse full of men. Men things, men sounds, men music.

They were two completely different worlds.

And, while I tried for a long time, it never quite felt like home to me.

They accepted me, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that they didn't feel the connection with me as they did with one another. Because I didn't sit around and bullshit with them, commiserate about our paths, wonder about the future of the club as things changed over the years. I could sit there, yeah, but I couldn't engage as they could.

Maybe couldn't wasn't the right word.

I didn't.

But after a lifetime of being exactly who I was, hiding away a part of myself that was shrouded in so much pain and insecurity, I wasn't sure I was capable of being any other way, letting them in that capacity, opening myself up, being that vulnerable.

I would live and die by the club.

That was the code.

But that didn't mean I had to live at the club.

Most of the guys didn't anymore anyway.

People crashed, or spent a night or two there when they were pulling guard shifts, but now that even the elusive Roan was shacked up with his woman, the only full-time residents were West and Vance. Both young, eager to prove themselves, bursting with bravado, they single-handedly made up for the lack of other single club members. Liquor flowed, girls flocked in and out. It was a party place most nights of the week.

The days and weekends were a bit more child-friendly. The club offspring ran in and out, laughing and screaming, the older kids hanging out in the yard, checking out the bikes, helping their uncles fix them up, clearly enjoying being a part of the club in a small way, dreaming about getting a cut and patch eventually. Sooner than their fathers or uncles seemed to realize, seeing their sons through the narrow scope of parenthood, seeing them as little boys with wiggling teeth instead of the young men they actually were. I didn't figure it would be long before they started sneaking drinks at the bar, coming home after curfew, getting into scuffles, puffing their chests.

I wasn't against the kids being around. I liked kids. As much as I could considering I had never really spent time around them. My life had never been the kind of place you found children. It was rough and ugly and dangerous. I didn't always have a lot of faith in humanity, but the fact that I didn't often see children while trading arms was one of the few ways in which I thought we weren't completely doomed.

Even the Henchmen kids were kept far away from the guns, from the drops, from anything at all that involved business.

Maybe it was because I came into Navesink Bank so late in the game, compared to everyone else, that I found it hard to feel like I fit in quite as well.

So I got myself an apartment.

It wasn't the nicest of my options, but it was the closest, and that had been Reign's only real concern - that I was nearby in case I was needed. The building itself was a four-floor brick structure with rickety balconies whose railings were rusted and wiggling, usually only used to store plants or hang out blankets too big to fit in the dryer. Definitely not safe enough for an actual human being to stand on, or even one of those yippy ankle-biting type dogs like the half a dozen that lived in the apartment above me, all of them suffering from separation anxiety when their owner went to work each day. I wasn't even going to talk about the state of the fire escape. I was pretty sure that in an emergency type situation, it would be safer to jump.

It wasn't that the place was neglected by a slumlord per se, it was old, a little unkempt. And the residents were just scraping by as it was. If rent had to be raised to cover updates, they wouldn't be able to afford it. So everyone dealt with the balcony situation, avoided the elevator that let out a high-pitched metallic shriek when you tried to use it. They put thick carpeting down and hung shit on the walls to try to quiet the sounds that easily cut through the paper-thin walls and floors.

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Roan Read online Jessica Gadziala (Henchmen MC #17) http://www.ilovenovels.com/roan-17-read-online-jessica-gadziala Fri, 02 Mar 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/roan-17-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Roan (The Henchmen MC #17)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
He’s been waiting for a storm for years. Well… she has finally blown into town. — He’d always been good at starting over. That had been his job for a long time. New country, new identity, new scumbag to track down, and bring to justice. It was just the job. Until, suddenly, someone made it more. But life had plans that didn’t involve white picket fences and happily-ever-afters. And there was no choice but to move on. That didn’t mean ghosts of the past didn’t plague him, follow him no matter how many times he changed his name, how many places he ran to. Eventually, he traded one world for another. The past seemed as far behind him as it was possible. Until one day, it was there. She was there. Life didn’t offer many second chances. And he was hellbent on making things right. Even if she didn’t want anything to do with him ever again.
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala Books

ONE

Roan

I'm not stupid; they all think I'm crazy.

The kids below me from my perch in the glass room above the rest of Navesink Bank.

Maybe if you subtracted fifteen years, and added on a whole lot of youthful bravado, I would think the same damn thing if I saw someone like me watching the horizon for a storm that no one has even predicted.

But, I figure, those white-headed men out in the midwest who walked out onto their front porch one morning, smelled something in the air, declared a tornado was coming, and took off to their underground shelters were always the ones to make it through when one did touch down in town, taking everyone who had called him an old fool by surprise.

Better prepared than dead.

That seemed like a good motto for life, one I learned early, one I had needed to live by for a long, long time.

Did it mean I missed out on a whole fuckuva lot since joining up with The Henchmen? Yeah. Did it make me a running joke at times? Again, yes. Did I sometimes need to question my own sanity? Yep.

But I learned half a lifetime ago that my gut was almost never wrong. And it had been in a familiar knot for a long time, one that nothing could untangle.

So I sat.

I waited.

I endured the boredom, the uncertainty, the noise of my own mind that had a tendency to wander when hours became months that became years.

Below me, the club was an ever-changing one, a world in flux, while mine stayed mostly still.

It was nothing new, though, I guessed.

The movies and shows always make the life of a spy seem action-packed and exhilarating. But the reality is a whole lot of waiting around for something, often getting nothing, for days, weeks, months. But then something happened, something that finally spurred you into action, finally let you close the case, secure an asset, get a major win in the name of your country.

And while that life was ripped away from me quite a while ago, the reality was that working for any criminal organization (which, aside from private security - was pretty much all an ex-spook was qualified to do) involved a lot of the same aspects of life. Keeping an eye out for an enemy - from within or out - was a job that required diligence.

From what I knew - thanks to some endless conversations with the big man who was clearly concerned by my insistence that something was wrong - Reign, and the organization in general, didn't have any current enemies.

I was quick to remind him.

That he knew of.

It was easy when you knew there was a rattler in the high grass. You kept an eye, an ear down, grabbed a shield, grabbed a shovel, and chopped the fucker's head off.

It was different when one of the bastards snuck up, sank their fangs into your calf, and killed you before you could get an anti-venom.

The arms trade was a volatile thing. I'd watched it operate across several continents, through endless countries.

It was competitive in the best of conditions. Rarely did an organization live long enough to pass on to a second generation.

Which was what set Reign and his MC apart.

He'd inherited a lot of his contacts from his father, then busted ass for a few years to secure new suppliers when the demand started to surpass what he had to offer.

An organization with those kinds of steady contacts, that was a prime target. Because people who were trying to break into the business, or ones who were greedy for more, they knew how established organizations got.

Complacent.

Cocky.

Lax.

I wouldn't say it to his face if he asked me, but that was why his club got gutted years back, why he had needed to start over, rebuild, get a helping hand from Hailstorm.

I couldn't claim to know what it was like to be in his shoes, to be a boss, to have so many people relying on me, to have to handle the business end of things, but also the petty day-to-date shit like bills and keeping the men from going at one another's throats, keeping the prospects miserable and hungry to prove themselves.

I didn't know about any of that.

I'd always, for the most part, been a one-man-operation.

So it wasn't fair to judge.

And I wasn't.

Some things were just clearer to me than they were to some of the kids a few floors below me, many of whom who happened into the trade out of their desire to join a club, a brotherhood, and therefore completely green about the details of the arms trade.

Maybe except for Cam.

But since he didn't speak to any of us, what we did know about his past in it came from Roderick's woman - Livianna.

She understood a bit more than the others, too. Maybe because when she had gotten into it, she didn't have the security of long-established contacts, the security of being surrounded by a bunch of burly, armed men.

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Virgin Read online Jessica Gadziala (The Henchmen MC #16) http://www.ilovenovels.com/virgin-16-read-online-jessica-gadziala Sun, 19 Nov 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/virgin-16-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Virgin (The Henchmen MC #16)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
Virgin - Growing up in MCs, he was used to the status quo. Brotherhood. Parties. Women in passing. And he was sure that was all he would ever want - or need. Until one night, he came across her. Freddie - She had ten years to make up for. Old bonds to reinforce. Revenge to plot and execute. The last thing she expected was an arms-dealing biker to come into her life, making her second-guess all her plans for her future…
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala Books

ONE

Freddie

If you're going to be stupid, you've got to be tough.

That was my first hard-won life lesson. And, as with most life lessons, I hadn't learned it willingly.

I had to have my freedom taken away from me to harden me up. I had to spend my days in a cage inside a cage inside a cage.

There was a perpetual chill there, something that burrowed under the skin, whittled away at the bone to settle in the marrow, making you sure that you would never feel warm again.

I still felt it, even clad in my own clothes again for the first time in a decade. Jeans of the boyfriend variety skirted the heel of my open-toe wedge sandals. On top, I had a simple white tee under a lightweight jacket. My aunt would call it a windbreaker. And me, well, I didn't know what to call it. And I didn't really even know if it would be in style anymore. Or if I would walk outside and everyone would know where I had been for the past ten years.

The embarrassment - long buried because there was no one around to judge without being considered a hypocrite - welled up stronger than it had been on the day when I had first shuffled shackled feet through the cinderblock walled halls.

I wondered as I accepted my old wallet from a male guard behind the desk - a man wholly disinterested in the enormity of his position, of his daily impact - if it was something I would ever get used to. The prickling, uncomfortable sensation of eyes on me, seeing me for what I was. At least on paper. And on paper was all that really mattered, wasn't it?

A felon.

Ex-con.

Just another part of a debilitating statistic.

"And sign here," the man behind the glass that wasn't glass at all demanded, pushing the paperwork toward me, the pen attached to his side of the desk with a bunch of interconnected rubber bands tied together.

A precaution against pen theft? Or fear that one of us might jab it through the soft of his eye and into his brain?

Like we'd risk our freedom before it was even fully granted to us.

"Hope we don't see you again." It was a phrase that was likely meant to sound hopeful or supportive. But it always came off as condescending. And maybe there was some fairness in that. Seeing as eighty percent of us who walked out these doors as free women would return in the next five years.

And while I never would have thought of myself as someone who would go to jail at all a decade ago, I had a sneaking suspicion that I might very well be shackled and shuffled back in within the next year. Though, next time, rightfully so.

"The bus stop is at the end of the street," he added, a plastic pre-paid debit card to me. On it, I knew I would find the money I had earned from the prison job I had been working for the last few years, minus what I had spent at the commissary. I was crossing my fingers that it would be enough to get me back to my hometown, back to Navesink Bank where my brother would be welcoming me into his life.

I'd never taken a bus - save for the ones that would shuttle me to school when I was younger - in my life. There was going to be a learning curve to figure out how to get from where I was now - in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania - to the coast of New Jersey. A Google search a week ago had told me it would be over six hours if the drive was straight through. I would likely be getting into Navesink Bank sometime around dinner time.

I could have made my life easier by having one of my brothers pick me up. Guilt was what had me telling them that I didn't know my release day yet, that I would let them know as soon as I did. They already did too much for me. Putting money in my commissary so I could buy extra tampons or pads on heavy months when what the prison supplied as though it was freaking contraband was nowhere near enough to get me through, could get extra socks or panties, soap, toothpaste, shower shoes, deodorant, Tylenol. If there was one thing you learned quickly, it was how important personal care items were in prison.

On top of the generous monetary contributions they made every week without fail, there were the trips they made out to see me. Not as often as when I was first sent away, but at least a couple times a year.

And now I was going to be leaning on them while I got back on my feet as well.

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Roderick Read Online Jessica Gadziala (The Henchmen MC #15) http://www.ilovenovels.com/roderick-15-read-online-jessica-gadziala Fri, 25 Aug 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/roderick-15-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Biker, Crime, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Roderick (The Henchmen MC #15)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
Roderick He joined the MC for many reasons. To be able to financially take care of his mother and sisters, to have fun, to let loose, to meet women. But only casually. Only for a night or two. He wasn’t ready to settle down. Until one day, when the president gives him a job. Just drop the guns, get the money, come home. Don’t f— it up. Except everything goes to hell. And he has just six weeks to find the woman who stole the guns, work with her to track down replacements, and try not to get too distracted. The problem being, Livianna - the gun-running leader of a rag-tag group of arms dealers turns out to be one hell of a distraction…
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala Books

ONE

Roderick

V was dead.

Things had calmed down.

Meaning they could go back to normal.

No more looking over our shoulders meant we could open the doors again, have parties again.

But what kind of parties could we really have with just Virgin and Roan - and me - being single anymore? And Roan didn't even count since he was still up in his glass room saying something about a storm coming.

So when Reign had a small-time job he needed someone to carry out - just delivering a few rare guns to a collector, not even a criminal of any sort, just someone who liked unique guns that were hard - if not impossible - to find through legal channels, I had jumped at the chance.

To get out of the clubhouse.

To get out of the town for a bit.

It was a cupcake mission, but it would bring me to Long Beach Island, let me get a few days away, maybe meet a fine thing and have some fun before coming back to the oddly empty clubhouse, most of my brothers moving out almost full-time to make lives with their women.

I couldn't blame them.

Family, future, that shit was as important as the brotherhood was.

But I just wasn't at that point.

Something I had to tell my mother every goddamn weekend when she called or I went to see her.

Never mind that I had a handful of single sisters, she still felt the need to rag on me about not settling down.

You're not getting any younger, mijo, she would tell me, making me remind her that I wasn't that old yet either.

Around the time she started wondering aloud if any of The Henchmen old ladies had any sisters or cousins or good friends for me to meet up with, I generally rushed off the phone or kissed her goodbye, claiming I needed to get back to club business.

I loved my mother, but she needed to put a pin in the grandma dream for a couple of years still. Settling down was the last thing on my mind.

"I would normally send at least another man with you, but Henry is an old contact. He was the first contact I ever brought in. Rich as God. There's never been an issue."

"I've got no worries, prez," I told him, shrugging my shoulders as we made our way into the vault, Reign grabbing cardboard boxes instead of the usual duffel bag for the typical AKs and such we generally got the most demand for.

"This is the Howdah he wanted," he told me as he dragged out a long, oddly curved old pistol. I paid three. He will pay eight. And this one is the Titanium Gold Desert Eagle," he went on, flashing a golden gun at me. "Five, but he's paying ten. And then this is the Frank Wesson Double-Trigger. Not worth all that much, but for the trouble it took me to hunt it down, he's paying me three grand. So you are collecting-"

"Twenty-one grand," I supplied. "I can count," I added with a smirk.

"He's probably going to hand you another list. Don't lose it. Keeping him happy keeps our name circling around to the collectors. They bring in a lot of money without all the hassle like the bangers and shit," he concluded, slipping the double-trigger into a long, thin box before duct taping them all together.

"Got it. Rep on the line. Be on my best behavior. Get the right amount of money."

I wasn't exactly new at the lifestyle, but I guess I couldn't begrudge him the Don't fuck this up talk when one of his main guys wasn't on the job.

"And don't touch his dog. He brings the ugly fucking thing everywhere, but the bastard hates everyone. I ended up with stitches the last time I was over there. Take the SUV, obviously," he added, reaching in his pocket for the keys. "I don't mind you staying over a night. But don't be running around with that cash for longer than that."

"Got it," I agreed, taking the boxes from him. "I'll text you as soon as the job is done."

"I'll be waiting," he agreed, staying in the vault as I made my way through the basement, knowing I needed to get on the road soon if I wanted to avoid the five p.m. traffic. I didn't exactly want to be late to my first solo job.

"Yo," Cash called as I moved past him. "Did Reign tell you about Andrew?"

"Andrew?" I asked, slowing to a stop, turning.

"The dog," he clarified.

"He named his dog Andrew? Whatever happened to Shep or Spot or Rover?"

"When you meet Henry, I think you'll understand."

"That's not vague at all," I mumbled, turning around to head into the garage.

Normally, I'd chafe at the idea of traveling without my bike. I hadn't exactly known much about them before I'd joined the MC, but once I had gotten used to them, no other vehicle could compare.

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Adler Read Online Jessica Gadziala (The Henchmen MC #14) http://www.ilovenovels.com/adler-14-read-online-jessica-gadziala Fri, 14 Jul 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/adler-14-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Adler (The Henchmen MC #14)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
He decided it was time to retire, settle down, become something nice and tame. Like an arms-dealing biker in some town called Navesink Bank. He could get behind that lifestyle. He'd anticipated a lot of things. Drinking. Brotherhood. A little action peppered in here and there to keep things from getting too dull. But there was one thing he hadn't planned on. A woman moving in across the hall from him. The way something within him recognized something inside her. A past. Secrets. Darkness. Hidden behind thick walls, impenetrable shields, and a biting sort of confidence. He damn sure couldn’t have prepared himself for the sudden and uncharacteristic urge to force his way into her life, get her to open up to him, feel comfortable enough to give her all the dark and ugly parts of his past. And - dare he even think it - plan a future with her. You know… if she would stop disappearing for weeks at a time without a clue as to where she was going…
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala books

ONE

Adler

There was a new girl across the hall from my apartment.

Well, technically, Adalind's apartment.

But she was shacking up at Ward's place.

So this place was technically vacant.

I mean, full of her shite still, but I could deal with the frilly crap.

And luckily, the landlord didn't care who stayed there so long as the bills were paid.

So it was my place for all intents and purposes.

The compound was great. I crashed there when I was too ass-faced to drive anywhere, but as a whole, I had gotten enough of being trapped in small spaces with a bunch of men in my life.

So I needed a place to escape to.

The Ritz it wasn't, but I was one of those weird fucks who found the sound of street fights and whacked-out stoners on the street below almost soothing. The fuck-ups, those were my people. You knew right where you stood with them. No bullshite.

"The fuck is this?" I asked the empty walls, picking up some green roller thing from the drawer in the bathroom, snapping a picture, sending it to Addy.

- The fuck is this shite? For your lady business?

Addy - Omg how could that ever be for my 'lady business?' It's a jade roller for wrinkle prevention. Why are you always breaking into my apartment?

- It's not breaking in when I have a key.

Addy - It is when you took a mold of my key when I wasn't looking, and reproduced it.

She had me there.

Totally stole it out of her purse when she and Ward were getting it on in his office.

Sure, it was alright for him to do that.

But could the rest of us?

Nope.

Not unless we wanted a lecture from Daddy Ward about it.

My oldest friend in the world - and until recently, my only - but the fuck never did have any sense of humor.

Just Lysol your desk and move on, y'know?

I lifted the roller, rubbing the cold stone under my eyes and across my forehead, not entirely convinced the fucking thing did anything, but it felt good regardless.

And that was when I heard it.

Right on time.

Seven a.m.

It made me a bit of a stalker to even notice that there was any kind of rhyme or reason to her morning schedule, but what can I say? There wasn't enough excitement in my life since I settled down. Became an arms dealer. I had to get my jollies where I could.

And this chick across the hall was up at seven a.m. as she had been every morning since she moved in.

And despite it being the witch's tit of winter, she was planning on going for a run.

With not a damn thing better to do, apparently, so was I.

I had barely gotten the opportunity to notice that she had a great ass before she disappeared down the side of a building.

It wasn't until it was too late that I realized she'd done it on purpose.

To catch me off-guard.

A forearm cracked across my throat out of nowhere, cutting off my grunt and all of my air as I was slammed back against the unyielding brick of the building, head hitting with a jolt of pain as I finally got to see her.

I'd seen her, of course, coming and going.

But never up close.

Never more than a back view or a hint of profile.

Never like this, in all her glory.

She was beautiful but in a brutal, determined way. Like tree roots breaking through concrete.

She wasn't much of a thing, five-six and compact, though not exactly slight or curvy, more athletic with a jut of hip, a nice rack heaving under her long-sleeved black shirt, and curvy legs clad in... jeans?

"Why the fuck are you following me?" she snapped, easing up just enough so that I could respond.

"Why the fuck are ya running in jeans?"

"I think my You're a creepy ass stalker question trumps your fashion one. Answer me, or a little breathing trouble will be the least of your problems."

They shouldn't have, but for some reason, those words sent a jolt of desire to my cock.

Maybe because of who made the threat.

This fierce ass Latina chick with her wavy black hair, almond-shaped, dark eyes, and killer self-defense moves.

Maybe she trained at Jstorm, Cash, and Lo's gym.

I'd ask, but Lo would get that look in her eye. And from what I heard around the club, when she did, fuckers started dropping. Not dead. No. But just as bad. Into committed relationships.

Couldn't have that woman weaving her love magic shite on me.

No thanks.

"Figured it was beautiful weather for a run."

"It's eighteen degrees and drizzling ice water."

"And?

"You're in a t-shirt."

"And?"

"Your hair is wet. You aren't out for a run, you're following me. Why?"

"Can't a man risk frostbite while looking for some exercise without being attacked by some hot chick with an inflated ego?"

Her eyes narrowed at that. "Inflated ego. Bullshite. I could feel your eyes on my ass since you fell into step behind me."

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The Fall of V Read Online Jessica Gadziala (Henchmen MC #13) http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-fall-of-v-13-read-online-jessica-gadziala Sun, 28 May 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/the-fall-of-v-13-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Biker, Dark, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	The Fall of V (The Henchmen MC #13)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
Navesink Bank's biggest b!tch finally gets what is coming to her. They knew she was going to strike back for taking down her empire, for imprisoning her for years. All those years stuck in a cell gave her a lot of time to think, to plot, to plan her revenge. But they couldn't have anticipated this. * This can not be read as a standalone. **** This is also not a romance. This is a dramatic suspense story told from many POVs including old favorites and some new faces, all dealing with the events before, during, and after V's eventual demise.
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala Books

ONE

Ferryn

Have you ever made a mistake, and knew the second it was happening how badly you had messed up?

This was what happened that day.

That day when my rebellious streak finally caught up with me.

I guess I had gotten away with too much over the years, had been let off too lightly because there was some ingrained parental fear of being called a hypocrite.

And make no mistake, that was exactly what I would have said, too. Even when Dad got his serious-face on, even when he crossed his arms, and slitted his eyes, and his voice did that growling thing.

I could practically hear the silent conversation between him and my mother - those two always being able to say with looks more than I could with words... and I had a lot of words.

See, this is why no one should have been telling old war stories around the kids.

She meant that figuratively, of course. She meant the stories about how his own old man let him drink beer with his "friends" when he was nothing more than thirteen, how he'd never been scolded for fighting, for being caught with girls, for cursing, for being, well, a horrible kid.

Keep in mind, when Dad said his father's "friends," he meant his father's men. He meant his father's brothers. He meant the fellow bikers.

Surely they knew I knew that by now.

Even Fallon was getting an idea. And, in my humble opinion, he wasn't the brightest of kids. I mean, he watched other kids play Minecraft on Youtube all day instead of playing it himself. That'd be like me watching people my age on Youtube reading books.

But, yeah, he occasionally would get this keen look at times, watching our parents and their friends with a quiet sort of intensity that was actually very much like Dad.

He was finally catching onto something that I had known since I was hardly more than seven.

Namely, Daddy was a criminal.

Daddy and all of his friends were criminals.

And, by extension, so was Mom. And Aunt Lo and Aunt Janie. Even the ones who didn't spend all their time at some military survivalist camp were too. If not by profession, then by association. Even the seemingly normal ones like Aunt Penny, and the charmingly out of place Rey who Uncle Reeve had finally found a little happiness with.

In case this wasn't clear, too, not a single one of these people were my actual aunts or uncles. Except, technically, Aunt Lo. Through marriage to my Uncle Cash who I was trying to get up the nerve to tell that he was getting a little old for his haircut.

They were all my father's men and their wives. Though, to be fair, they certainly all acted like one giant family.

For outlaw bikers.

It was easy for them to fool me when I was little and easily distracted, when Daddy could take me on his bike, and make me forget all about asking what the giant vault in the basement was for.

I clearly remembered sometime in maybe third grade when we had been working on percentages at school, and I came home to Dad in his leather cut - worn and soft from decades of wearing that exact same one - and had asked him what he was one-percent of, running my finger over that badge on his chest.

He'd looked taken aback for a moment before he declared he was one percent devil, then snarled and grabbed at me, making me run and screech.

I had no idea that there was some truth in his words at the time.

One-percent devil.

They were raising me in the wrong age if they didn't want me to look into things when I was curious about them.

Like a one-percent badge.

That meant he was a one-percent biker.

Meaning that ninety-nine percent of all biker clubs were a simple brotherhood, men bonding over their love of bikes.

But one-percent were outlaws.

Criminals.

Bad guys.

That was what they were.

Bad guys.

Good men, by any definition of the word.

But bad guys.

Everything started to make sense after that computer search when I was ten.

The tension that seemed to come out of nowhere, the nights Mom and Dad were sitting at the table until the wee hours of the morning, hands cradling cups of coffee, tension creasing their foreheads, jaws clenched tight, the dozens of times Dad would get called out of the house at all hours, not coming home for days on end, leaving Mom to clean compulsively, force false joy to keep us from picking up on the tension.

And, well, the seemingly random trips up to Hailstorm for supposed campouts and vacations, little lies we all bought into for more years than we probably should have. Myself included.

I remembered long days in those windowless rooms, trying to make the best of it, playing when I found the motivation, going stir crazy when I couldn't.

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Sugar Read Online Jessica Gadziala (The Henchmen MC #12) http://www.ilovenovels.com/sugar-12-read-online-jessica-gadziala Wed, 05 Apr 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/sugar-12-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Funny, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Sugar (The Henchmen MC #12)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
Sugar had known a lot of women in his life. But he’d never met anyone quite like this mermaid-haired, tattooed, pierced, smartass woman named Peyton who made it clear she didn’t want anything from him except as many orgasms as he could give her. So what was he supposed to do when he realized he did want more? How was he supposed to get this woman who was so committed to non-commitment to take a chance on him? Or convince the loansharks and ex-armed robbers that loved her that he was worthy? All the while trying to figure out how a dead man from his past had somehow come back to life… and why he was coming for him…
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala Books

ONE

Peyton

In hindsight, agreeing to go to a gay rave in the woods on the back twenty of a cattle farm without permission from the very homophobic farm owner was, perhaps, not the wisest thing I had ever done.

But, well, I was never really known for being the most sane, rational person.

Besides, the stupidest of stunts always made the best of stories. Which I planned to tell my girls as soon as I found my way out of Bumfuck Nowhere. Preferably over a greasy pizza and far too many drinks seeing as I had, stupidly, agreed to be the designated driver since Ronny was fresh off a breakup and needed the booze.

He had been solidly stuck in the wounded stage for about six weeks, and after listening to him cry for the third time in as many days, I had had about enough. It was time to drag him out amongst a group of body-glitter-covered, ecstasy-fueled, fist-pumping, tight-tank-top-wearing dudes.

And get him fucked.

Plain and simple.

That was the goal for the night.

Which I accomplished.

And I was sending a prayer up to God, Allah, the fucking Triple Goddess... anyone who would listen, that this dude fucked the sadness right out of him.

Anyone who had ever met me would likely tell you that I was not the girl for touchy-feely. You wanted to go out and moon overnight truckers off the top of the bridge? I was your girl. You needed someone to be your accomplice while you shrink-wrapped your ex's car? I was loading up my shopping cart with Saran Wrap. You needed someone to sing absolutely schnockered angry chick music with at karaoke? I am all in.

But I was not the girl to hand you tissues and rub your back while you cried on my shoulder.

I was not the kind of girl who did the feelings thing.

Emotionally inarticulate, that was me.

Unapologetically so.

Besides, I was a firm believer in the idea that a good, solid fucking could fix all kinds of ails.

But I had sweaty body glitter sliding down my chest and onto my tits under an enormously uncomfortable gold sequin dress. My mascara was giving me the dreaded raccoon eyes. And my shoes felt as though they were likely full of blood at the moment.

I just wanted to get home, change, have pizza and too much to drink, witness a good kill, then get to sleep. Preferably before sunrise. Though, well, that was likely a pipe dream.

But this never-ending back country road was killing my eyes. I had left the party an hour and six minutes ago. My GPS said I should be home in another twenty.

You know, if a deer didn't decide to commit suicide out here in the sticks. And take me down with him.

My hand went to the dash, cranking up the music, trying to fend off the road-weariness in a way that the energy drink in the cupholder was not managing.

There was nothing like some good death metal to wake up the braincells.

I had only been half-paying attention to the road that had been completely empty except for me for the past twelve miles.

If I didn't think my headlights were shining off a set of glowing eyes, I would have missed it.

Him.

I would have missed him.

What my headlights caught wasn't a set of eyes ready to jump out, make me over-correct, and smash into one of these gloriously creepy trees lining the road, ending my life before Die Muthafucker 2 came out. I'd heard rumors about a sequel. Even though the author had been MIA for years. And I had to be alive for that, damnit.

But oh no.

It wasn't a deer. Or opossum. Or raccoon.

It was the chrome of a motorcycle.

A motorcycle.

On the side of a backwoods country road.

I slowed, but didn't stop as I got closer, seeing that it was just sitting there all pretty and - what was the term - hog-like. But it wasn't alone.

Nope.

There was a man with his ass half-propped on the seat, but standing, head ducked, the darkness making it impossible to tell if he was of the hot-young-guy-who-watched-Sons of Anarchy-and-got-ideas sort or the old school greasy, leather-clad, and stringy-haired sort.

I knew, logically, that I was supposed to keep going.

I was supposed to be the smart girl who didn't try to be a Good Samaritan and ended up raped and killed by the side of a street, not to be found until late the next morning with vultures pecking out my eyes.

But I was never really known for making the most prudent decisions.

This was evidenced by how I pulled my car up a few feet, parked, but left the engine running as I threw open my door, and climbed out, all the while cursing my blood-filled heels as they bit into my feet all the more.

The man's head popped up, either because I stopped or - more likely - because my music was still blasting.

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Reeve Read online Jessica Gadziala (The Henchmen MC, #11) http://www.ilovenovels.com/reeve-11-read-online-jessica-gadziala Tue, 07 Mar 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/reeve-11-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Reeve (The Henchmen MC, #11)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Gadziala
Language:	English
Book Information:
Reeve I had long since given up hope of the pursuit of genuine happiness. It wasn’t possible after all the sh*t I had been through. I had my siblings, my club, a purpose in life. It was enough. Until I came across her. She represented everything that I knew I couldn’t have - stability, a future, a way out of my past. And, it seemed, the harder I tried to keep her at a distance, to protect her from my reality, she only got in deeper, only pulled me closer. Then, one night, an old face popped up in Navesink Bank. And everything changed forever. Rey I liked my life. I liked the freedom and simplicity of it, even if it was, perhaps, a little lonely. Then one night, there he was. With the saddest eyes I had ever seen. He represented everything my life didn’t need - chaos, violence, uncertainty. But, at the same time, everything it was lacking - companionship, connection. He tried to fight it, to keep up his guards, to keep me at arm’s length. But, well, fate had other plans. That was the night everything changed. Down an alley, facing down a new, yet familiar, big bad in Navesink Bank, forcing us together, making us confront the reality of what was happening between us. Trapped together, waiting for the winds to blow over, he finally trusted me enough to let me in, to give us a shot, to invite me into his family. That is, if all of us survived the upcoming storm…
Books in Series:	The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
Books by Author:	Jessica Gadziala Books

ONE

Reeve

The place was a deathtrap.

If I were Reign, I would sue the shirts off the contractors he hired to rebuild Repo's place after it got destroyed. It wasn't that he needed the money. It was just the point. They shouldn't have been able to get away with this level of incompetence and still work in the industry. People could die if they didn't know what kinda shit to look out for.

In the past year alone, there had been two windows that had fallen out, the air system had leaked and ruined the ceiling - and had we not reacted soon enough, would have created a clusterfuck of toxic black mold -, the hardwired fire alarms started triggering themselves several times a day, and now the wiring created a mini fire in the fucking wall behind the office.

I had been called out three hours before during a pretty epic early snowstorm to handle it.

I had three burned fingertips. It was nearly two in the morning. And to say I wasn't a happy camper would be an understatement.

I was half ready to drive my ass across town and have it out with the assholes who had the nerve to run a business in this town.

You could say I was a little overly sensitive about the issue. But before joining up with gun-running bikers and leaving it all behind, this had been my life. Fixing shit. Safely. Doing work people could trust in, that no one would ever have to worry about waking up to their homes being on fire because I cut corners or rushed a job.

Finished with the wiring and deciding the new Sheetrock would have to wait until the next day, I tossed my tools back into my toolbox, picking up the trusty weighted metal handle like I had done thousands of times before, and moving across the cement floor, wondering what kind of mess I was about to walk out into as I shrugged into my jacket.

When I had come in, there was about an inch on the ground, but from what I could see in the almost ceiling-height garage door windows, it hadn't let up in the least.

Luckily, it was a short ride back to the compound. And I had my truck with me. That beast could handle any weather.

With a last look of good riddance to the shop that was eating more money than making it lately thanks to all the repairs, I moved outside, locking up behind me.

The cold air hit with impact, making my chest feel tight, my air puffing up in the air around me.

There were a good five inches of fresh snow on the ground, crunching under my work boots, blanketing the town in freshness.

My sister loved snow. She used to sleep with her pajamas inside out all winter, willing the universe to hear her pleas and let her wake up to a winter wonderland. She was in, last I heard, Florida, and likely pissed off that she was missing out, having just left a week before after hanging out at the compound for Christmas.

Me, I had no strong feelings either way.

Back when I had to work daily for a living, the shit got in the way, made other drivers stupid, had small cars fishtailing and crashing into shit, making everyone else's commute longer, and having everyone cursing the white stuff.

Now, it was just one of those things. Like wind. Like rain. Nothing special.

I turned the corner to where I had parked my truck, most of the guys having been at the garage after hearing about the fire, taking all the close parking spaces for themselves before I could show up.

Nothing seemed odd until I placed my toolbox down in the open bed, doing so silently thanks to the wet buffer of snow.

But then I moved out to go toward the driver's side door.

And I saw them.

Legs.

Hanging out from underneath my truck.

What the fuck?

I moved closer, seeing somewhat thin female legs clad only in leggings, the hem of a lightweight dress bunched up right below the hips, purples and blues and yellows, a dress seemingly out of place in the dead center of winter. Her feet were clad in simple bright pink ballet flats that didn't, well, match the damn dress.

What the hell was she doing under my car? Lying on the snow in thin clothing?

"Ah, babe, what the fuck are you doing under my truck?" I asked, trying to keep my voice low, not wanting her to startle, shoot up, and whack her head off the underside of my car.

She didn't, as I had worried, jolt. In fact, she seemed to show no reaction at all to my presence.

I would have worried that she was passed out under there or some shit except I could hear this odd tisk-tisk-tisking sound from under the truck, and then one of her feet planted so she could push herself further under.

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Colson (The Henchmen MC #20)

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Roderick (The Henchmen MC #15)

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Adler (The Henchmen MC #14)

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The Fall of V (The Henchmen MC #13)

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Sugar (The Henchmen MC #12)

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Reeve (The Henchmen MC, #11)

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