Alaric (Golden Glades Henchmen MC #8) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Golden Glades Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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“The nurse said you haven’t woken up yet. But when you do, do me a favor and tell them that I’m your sister, okay? Because I sort of lied to get in here,” I said. “And I’d really prefer not getting in trouble for that. Can you get in trouble for that?” I asked. “I don’t usually lie, so I’m not sure about the consequences.”

I’d always been what my peers had called a ‘goody-goody’ growing up. Always following the instructions, never stepping a toe out of line. Always afraid of getting in trouble, of being called down to the principal’s office, of being lectured when I got home.

I mean, my mom was the queen of the lectures no matter how well I behaved. In her mind, I could always be doing better than I was. If my grades were good—and they always were—I could have been trying harder to do extracurriculars. Joining clubs. Getting the “right” summer jobs where I could make “connections” to give my future a “leg up.”

In retrospect, I was pretty sure every single dinner growing up included a lecture about how I wasn’t living up to my potential.

She would be horrified if she knew what I was doing for work now.

Which was why I was not going to tell her.

Just plug away at it, saving money, and investing some of it in some sort of other vocation.

The problem was, I was having trouble figuring out what I wanted to “do with” my life still. Especially seeing as I didn’t like to be out of my apartment unless I absolutely had to be.

“I was going to bring you flowers or a donut bouquet or something, but I guess that is going to have to wait until you wake up,” I said. “I get you probably need your sleep after all that, but… but I really hope you wake up soon.”

I sat down on the chair near the bed, watching his vitals as I fought for things to say.

I mean, it wasn’t like I had a lot to share with him. I barely knew him.

So I settled on talking about Frida for a while, seeing as she was kind of our mutual shared interest. I regaled him with the story of the first time I learned she was terrified of the beep the microwave made when she was a puppy, and how I spent months trying to rush to it and catch it before the beep started, to save her from freaking out.

And how she’d first encountered a small breed dog. Who promptly sounded like he trash-talked Frida from a block away. By the time they got close, she was cowering behind me, whimpering as the little dog continued to bark and snarl at her up close.

“Speaking of Frida,” I said later. “I have to get back to take her on a walk again,” I told him. “But I am going to check on you again tomorrow, okay? And maybe ask the nurse to call me if you wake up. I hope you don’t mind,” I added, voice small, as if the very busy nurses were eavesdropping on our conversation like they didn’t have better things to do.

“You get better, okay?” I said, patting his arm as I rose.

I made my way back out to the nurse’s station, giving them my number to contact me if Kylo woke up, then made my way back down the elevator, feeling shaky enough that I was glad for the heat that slapped me in the face as I stepped outside.

It wasn’t long before I was cursing it, though, as I walked back to my apartment building, finding Frida waiting for me.

“One minute, girl,” I said, patting her head. “We have to get your water,” I told her, going for a bottle I kept in the fridge that screwed into this thing that would dispense water for her. “And your little stickies,” I added, meaning the little heat-resistant stickers I placed on her pads on hot days, not wanting her to burn her feet on the pavement, but knowing from experience that actual booties were not an option.

“And a hat for me,” I said, grabbing the only hat I owned, one with a wide brim and an open top, so my head didn’t sweat as I shielded some of the sun off of my face. “It’s bad out there,” I told her as I applied the stickies to her feet, then slid on her slip lead, attached her water to my belt, so I could carry my own, then made our way out.

I was halfway out of the front door when I saw them.

Saw him.

A car was parked just past the apartment building, and I watched the bald head as he climbed out of the car.

He wasn’t the only bald man in Miami, so there was no reason for my palms to start sweating the second I saw the sun reflect off of his light skin.


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