Donovan (Golden Glades Henchmen MC #6) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Crime, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Golden Glades Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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Previously, I would say Seeley was there because Seeley was the guy who always knew how to handle a situation.

Now, though, I figured it was because his woman was a doctor.

“Fuck,” Huck hissed, looking down at Donovan.

“I’m alright,” Donovan insisted.

“The fuck you are,” Huck shot back as another car—this time a sports one—came up to the curb, another two men pouring out.

McCoy and Alaric, if I had it straight.

“Get him to Ama,” Huck demanded of the men as Triss and I got out of their way. But Huck didn’t go to Donovan, he came toward us.

His gaze dropped immediately to the gun in Triss’s hand.

“I was going to, you know, handle it if they came back,” she said, turning the gun to hand it to Huck.

That got a small smile tugging at his lips. “Alright,” he said, nodding. “What happened?” he asked.

“It was insane,” Triss said.

“Are you drunk?” Huck asked.

“Is that relevant?” Triss shot back, jerking her chin up.

“You drunk?” he asked, turning his attention to me.

“I, ah, no,” I said, suddenly feeling like a kid in the principal’s office.

“Okay. Give it to me then,” he demanded.

“There was a car,” I told him.

“Figured. Need more than that, babe.”

“Right. Uhm. We were just… walking out from the back—“

“Dancing out, actually,” Triss told him. “For accuracy’s sake,” she added when his brow rose.

“And I heard the bike and then the revving of an engine. But I thought it was just some idiot kids racing,” I said. “Then I heard the crunch of metal. I looked and saw him on the ground,” I said, glancing over toward where the men were half-carrying Donovan off the ground as he let out a string of inventive curses.

“What kind of car?” Huck asked, and the two of us looked at each other.

“Yeah, um, cars aren’t exactly our thing,” Triss told him, wincing a bit. “It was black. And kind of… masculine-looking. You know… like that car in Supernatural or maybe the one in The Fast and the Furious,” she offered.

“So… a muscle car,” Huck concluded.

“Yeah,” we both agreed in unison.

“Did you get a plate?”

“There… wasn’t one,” I recalled suddenly. I’d been so shocked, then so frantic, at the time that I hadn’t paid attention to those sorts of details. But when the picture of the car popped into my head again, there was nothing where the plate should have been.

“If it helps, I shattered their windshield,” Triss said, making Huck’s head shoot over toward her.

“Say that again,” he demanded.

“Yeah, I, ah, shattered their windshield.”

“How’d you do that?”

“Well, I tossed a garden gnome at it,” she told him.

“You broke their windshield with a garden gnome,” Huck repeated, almost like he was trying to wrap his head around that mental image.

“And then I started screaming my head off. The neighbors are ancient and don’t hear anything, but they didn’t know that, so they spooked and peeled off.”

“That’s it?” Huck asked. “Did you get a look at them?”

“The tint was dark,” Triss told him, shrugging. “Sorry.”

“Hey, you probably saved his life,” Huck said, shaking his head. “Don’t need to apologize to me about shit.”

“Is he going to be okay?” I asked, and the man’s gaze slid to me, giving me a soft smile, like he was accustomed to dealing with upset, worry-filled women.

“He’s fine, babe,” he said, shrugging. “Road rash hurts like a motherfucker. And he might have some broken bones. Maybe a concussion. Might be down for a bit, but not in a serious way.”

“Huck, we gotta go,” Seeley called, making Huck nod.

“Thanks again. You two ever need anything…” he said, waving out a hand, then turning and walking away.

It was McCoy and Alaric who moved our way when the others climbed in the SUV and took off.

“Should we be, you know, worried or anything?” Triss asked them. “You know, since I attempted to murder them via gnome and all,” she clarified.

The two men shared a blank look, not having the details like their president did.

“Honestly,” McCoy said, and I recalled that he was a bit of a straight-shooter. “We can’t say for sure,” he told us. “Any chance you two have a security system on the house?”

“We’re two super hot single women living alone,” Triss said, making Alaric smirk a little. “Of course we have a security system.

“Set it,” McCoy demanded, reaching in his pocket and producing a little slip of paper. “Lock the doors. Maybe crash together. Just as a precaution. If shit seems scary, call the cops. We couldn’t get here fast enough,” he explained. “If things just seem iffy, or suspicious, give us a call,” he said, handing the paper to me, and on it was a phone number.

“And here,” Alaric said, reaching into his waistband and producing a gun.

But he handed it to Triss.

Likely sensing her aforementioned willingness to “pop a cap” in someone’s ass.



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