Detroit (Shady Valley Henchmen #5) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Shady Valley Henchmen Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
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“What are you doing here?” he asked, brows scrunching.

“Is that any way to talk to a lady?” Ronald snapped, making his son immediately look sheepish. “She’s gonna be your sister-in-law, you know,” he added as he tried to haul himself out of the chair.

Dallas and I went to him in unison, each grabbing one of his arms and lifting.

It was right then that a shadow passed over all three of us.

And there was Detroit.

I stared at him, knowing I had this whole speech planned, but my mind was suddenly wiped clean.

I watched as confusion and tension moved across his features. Then, as his gaze landed on me, a softness.

“I should have known you were in on this,” he said, gaze moving around. “So, this is where you’ve been when you said you were visiting Della.”

“No! I visited Della too! I wouldn’t lie. Sometimes, Della and I were both here with your dad.”

“Your girl has been an angel,” Ronald declared.

“Can’t argue with that,” Detroit said, nodding. “Dallas,” he said, and there was tension in his voice.

“Detroit,” Dallas said back, eyes and tone cool.

“That’s enough of that,” Ronald said, taking on such a fatherly tone that I missed my own father so much it ached. “Go out, shoot some hoops, and work this shit out once and for all,” he said, waving at the door. “While my future daughter and I finish dinner.”

“Bring Betty,” I told them, waving toward the princess that was sitting on the arm of the couch, sunning in the window.

“When the fuck did you get a pet gremlin?” Dallas asked, getting a laugh out of Detroit as he grabbed her leash and attached it to her collar.

“She might be small, but she bosses around the German Shepherds at the club,” Detroit explained as he led her outside.

Dallas shifted his feet awkwardly before Ronald barked at him to get moving too.

“They’ll work it out,” he assured me.

“You have more faith than I do, I’m afraid,” I admitted.

“They get that stubbornness from me,” Ronald said, shaking his head. “Their ma was an angel like you. All sweet and good. Dunno how she put up with me.”

“Hey, you’re a good guy too,” I insisted, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze.

“So,” he said, eyes bright. “When are you giving me some grand babies?”

“As soon as I am done with school,” I told him.

Though, as it would turn out, fate would have other plans. Ones that meant I was as big as a house when I finally got my degree.

But that was a story for another day.

All I can say about this day was that when I went outside to call the guys to dinner, I found Betty perched in one of the flower beds I’d just planted, and Detroit and Dallas in the middle of a serious-looking game of basketball.

One that ended with laughter.

And tentative reconciliation.

I wouldn’t act like everything was better that day.

But some talking, good food, and togetherness went a long way to rebuilding those burnt bridges.

Detroit - 11 years

“She’s broken,” Everleigh declared, eyes wide and as the baby settled down as soon as I turned on her playlist.

Of soothing… old-school gangsta rap.

“She’s… got varied taste,” I said, smiling as the song just kept cutting out at all the curse words. Finding ‘clean’ old-school gangsta rap had been… difficult. But we couldn’t have the other kids singing about guns and drugs just because it soothed our youngest.

“How come all the boys were soothed by the songs of the Evermore and Folklore albums, but my only girl thinks songs about street gang fights are lullabies?”

“It’s probably the beat,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe it reminds her of your heartbeat when she was in the womb?”

“Maybe,” she agreed, standing up from the glider, to go put the baby down in her crib.

We’d learned the hard way after the first baby how important it was to put them down when they were sleeping. I don’t think we slept at all for the first six months because our son had gotten so accustomed to being held that he screamed his head off if we put him down.

Everleigh tiptoed out of the room, and my phone was held captive there, playing our little girl her ‘lullabies’ as we moved into the hallway.

“You okay?” I asked, putting a hand to her lower back, and pulling her against my chest.

“Tired,” she admitted, exhaling hard.

“You know what we could do?” I asked, rubbing at the knots in her back.

“Get some coffee?” she asked.

“Call up Dallas to come scoop up the boys,” I suggested. “And hand off the baby to your mom,” I added, “so we can get some sleep.”

Her mom had been amazing.

With each grand baby, she took her vacation for the year to come and stay with us for the first several weeks, so we had some extra help. When she left, Bayleigh would usually come to visit, her two kids keeping our older ones occupied, so she could help with the baby.


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