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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Because I could really dig in, get comfortable, without the fear of it all being ripped away from me.

My heart seemed to be screaming Home as Coach opened the door and I walked back inside with Detroit’s hand wrapped in mine.

As promised, I was assaulted almost instantly with so many scents that it was almost impossible to tell them apart. That tang of red sauce that said pizza and Italian food was featured, the spicy scent of Mexican food, the unmistakable umami scent of Chinese, then the greasy scent of fried food.

The clubhouse wasn’t overly busy, but I could hear the low hum of televisions from the floor above, so I figured everyone had gotten plates and gone to their own rooms so I could have some peace.

“Hey, pretty lady,” Raff said, and even his usually so animated voice was hushed as he greeted me. “Come on. Let’s get you a plate,” he said, waving toward the spread across not only the island and dining table, but most of the counters as well.

I went ahead and did that, Detroit close by as we both piled plates, then sat to eat.

Raff broke up the silence by telling us about his most recent trip to a place called Golden Glades, Florida. Apparently, there was another club there that was a ‘sister’ to this one. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I was smiling and laughing as he told this story about some guy named Zayn who was, apparently, an international arms dealer.

It passed the time as I stuffed my belly until my pants felt too tight. And they had an elastic waist.

“How about I run you a bath?” Detroit suggested.

“That sounds perfect,” I agreed, trying to get up to clean while he went to do that, but getting coaxed back into my seat by Coach.

I hadn’t had this in a really long time.

Help.

People to lean on.

Even when my mom and sister were in town, I guess I’d kind of always been the one doing the taking care of everyone. When they were sick, I was making soup and making sure they were taking their meds and going easy.

When my sister was being abused by that asshole ex of hers, I was there, treating her wounds, icing her bruises, telling her how loved she was, how she could come be with me anytime.

I showed love with acts of service.

I guess I just never knew quite how nice it could be to be on the receiving end of that, to have others take care of me.

“I give a mean foot massage if you need one,” Raff told me after Coach offered to try to easy my headache with some sort of breathing/tapping exercise. “Fuck. I made her cry. Ah, someone. She’s… leaking,” Raff declared, getting an eye roll from Coach.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just a little emotional,” I admitted, wiping at my cheeks with my hand. “It’s just really nice to have people who want to take care of me,” I admitted.

“That’s what family is for,” Raff said, shrugging. And it really was that simple for them.

This, it seemed, was their family.

I didn’t know all their stories yet, but it did seem like almost everyone here had strained family ties. So this found family of theirs had taken the place of their blood families.

I really loved that for them.

No, the club wouldn’t replace my blood family. My mom and sister genuinely did love me, even if we didn’t see one another as often anymore.

But it would be lovely to have this expansive, loving, varied family to fall back on in times of need as well.

“Come on, baby,” Detroit called, voice soft.

I followed him upstairs and let him carefully undress me before helping me into the tub.

He left me to soak, and I wouldn’t claim the bath worked as well as some medicine might have, but it did make the headache, throbbing shoulder, and achy knees become a little more tolerable.

Afterward, Detroit wrapped me in a towel and led me across the hall.

To where a giant basket was sitting on the bed, overflowing with items.

Soft pajamas, fluffy socks, a new blanket, a Squishmallow, candy, snacks, and more that I couldn’t see buried under all the other stuff.

“What’s this?” I asked, feeling those damn tears sting my eyes again.

This day was just… a lot.

Crushing lows followed by soaring highs.

My emotions couldn’t quite keep up.

“I can’t take full credit,” Detroit admitted. “It was Colter’s idea. I just told him what you liked,” he said.

“You’re both amazing,” I told him as I pulled out the soft, light pink pajama set.

Detroit insisted on helping me into it. And, despite all the fear, uncertainty, pain, and exhaustion, I felt little fires spark at my skin. But they were extinguished pretty quickly as his fingers finished with the last button of my top.



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