Callow (Henchmen MC Next Generation #12) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Henchmen MC Next Generation Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
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“Callow,” Daph called as I sat at the kitchen counter trying not to look like I was eye-fucking Sabrina as she walked around making cookies while listening to Prince.

“What’s up, kid?” I asked as she came walking over with her tablet.

“Can I ask you, you know, war questions?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

“What was the Vietnam War like?” she asked, making Sabrina snort out a laugh.

“How the fuck old do you think I am?” I asked, making Sabrina lose her fight and burst out in laughter.

“What?” Daph asked, genuinely perplexed.

“The Vietnam War started in ’55. I wasn’t born yet,” I told her.

“What about Grenada?”

“Still before my time.”

“What about the Gulf War?”

“Think I was still learning to tie my shoes when that went down. You got a history paper due or something?”

“It’s for a debate, actually,” she admitted.

“What is the debate?”

“Those pro versus against war. In general.”

“Which side are you on?”

“Against,” she said. “I guess you’d be pro?”

“That’s… a big question.”

“But you were in the military for, like, ever.”

“Which is why I saw a lot of how pointless most wars are. How many innocent people die because of the ideas a few people at the top have.”

“What’s complicated then?” she asked.

“Sometimes wars help liberate oppressed people. Sometimes they take heartless dictators out of office. But, as a whole, it’s just a lot of suffering and death.”

“Would you do it again?”

“That’s complicated. I did it to get away from home when I was young and miserable. It let me travel. It taught me a lot about duty, sacrifice, and teamwork. Would I go back now if it was possible? No. But I dunno if I would want to erase the experience either.”

“How did you go from the military to an arms-dealing biker?”

“Daphne!” Sabrina hissed.

“What? It’s not like we don’t all know what he does for a living,” she said with an eye roll.

“It’s alright,” I said, turning my coffee cup around on the counter a time or two before answering. “I think, in a way, it was familiar. The brotherhood, the teamwork, the sacrificing the individual wants for the good of the whole. I was used to strict authority structures. And, yeah, I know a thing or two about guns. And don’t shy away from dangerous situations. It made a hell of a lot more sense to end up as an arms-dealing biker than, I dunno, a used car salesman or some shit.”

“Does it pay a lot?”

“Daphne, for God’s sake. I might not have been Miss Manners, but I’m pretty sure I did teach you that you can’t ask people what they make for a living.”

“It’s fine,” I said, reaching out to swipe some flour off of Sabrina’s arm. A movement that Daph tracked, a little smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, it pays well.”

“How well?”

“I give up,” Sabrina said, closing her eyes and shaking her head at her kid’s prying questions.

“Enough that, when or if I want a house, I can buy one. Or open a legit business. Or both.”

“Do a lot of the bikers have legit businesses?”

“They’re definitely branching out. Which is good for the club.”

“To wash the money,” Daph said.

“How do you know about washing money?” Sabrina asked.

“Because this isn’t the nineteen-hundreds anymore,” Daph said, making both her mother and I wince, realizing the 1900s she was talking about were the ones we’d been born in. Albeit the latter end of them. “And everyone knows criminals need to wash their cash to keep the Feds off of their backs.”

“That’s it. I’m canceling all cable and streaming services. From now on, all we watch are history documentaries,” Sabrina said, making Daph laugh.

“Says someone who watches true crime stuff all the time.”

“So I can know how not to be kidnapped and murdered,” Sabrina shot back. “Not to know the inner workings of criminal empires.”

“We all have our interests,” Daph shot back, making Sabrina exhale a little pained sound. “Be interested in economics or something.”

“I mean, criminal organizations do kind of factor into the economy,” Daph said, fucking with her mom, even sharing a smile with me about it.

“You see these gray hairs, kid?” Sabrina asked, gesturing toward her hair that, as far as I could tell, was gray-free still.

“Let me guess, they each have my name on them. Alright. I’m gonna go work on my debate topics. Tell me when the cookies are done,” she said, swiping her book bag off the floor on her way to her room.

“If you think that third-degree was bad, you should have seen her as a kid. We once had to wait in line at a very busy bank where she peppered me with questions. Like how much money I had in the bank, what I weighed, why I didn’t have a boyfriend, and what those little plastic tubes with ‘tissues’ inside of them were in the box under the bathroom cabinet.”


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