Jax and Jokers: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel by Kristine Allen

Author:Kristine Allen [Allen, Kristine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Demented Sons MC Series—Texas, Book Four
Publisher: Demented Sons Publishing
Published: 2020-03-17T18:30:00+00:00

“Without You” —Breaking Benjamin

It was early morning when Lock knocked on the door. I was surprised to see him. He’d stopped by the night before because Gunny had told him I was worried. So him showing up again so soon was weird.

“Avery, I’m sorry if I woke you.” He paused and covered his mouth with both hands. “Gunny was in an accident.”

“Oh my God.” I covered my mouth. Suddenly dizzy, I thought I was going to pass out. I had to grab the doorframe.

“Come on, let’s get you sitting down before you fall over,” he said.

Once we were on the couch, I fought the tremors that wanted to take over my entire body. I wasn’t sure if I was in shock or what my problem was. I’d been watching updates on the hurricane sweeping into the Gulf for days upon days. Fear like none I’d ever experienced had settled in my bones. It never left me. I’d wake up in a cold sweat, yet it didn’t compare to the sickness churning in my guts at what Lock had said.

“Smoke and I are headed down in about forty-five minutes. Mom and Dad are already on the way. I don’t have much to tell you other than there was an accident on the platform and he’s in surgery right now.” He ran a tattooed hand through his sandy-colored hair, and it struck me how much the two brothers looked alike. They even had many of the same mannerisms.

It was on the tip of my tongue to demand to go with them. Instead, I fought useless tears.

“I appreciate you coming by to tell me. I would’ve been worried sick if I didn’t hear from him tonight.” Dragging a ragged breath in, I exhaled shakily. It was no secret that Lock wasn’t my biggest fan. I could think of plenty of reasons for it, but I didn’t know exactly what his rationale was. The night before, he’d been short with me and hadn’t stayed more than five minutes.

His eyes narrowed as he studied me, then he cocked his head. “How often does he contact you?”

Blinking in confusion, I furrowed my brow. “Every night so he can see Tristan. Why?”

Surprise registered on his face before he wiped the emotion away. “Why didn’t he leave you his truck to drive instead of your car? I thought he said he was worried about you driving it.”

Huffing a frustrated breath, I rolled my eyes. “Oh, trust me, he tried. But I already feel bad enough about cramping his style by living here. He won’t let me pay for anything. Do you think you could convince him to let me?”

He snorted out a laugh as he gave me a “yeah, right” look. “Unlikely. You obviously don’t know him well if you could ask me that.”

Though he was obviously joking, it rubbed salt in the wound that I lived with every day. The one that screamed I really didn’t know my baby’s father. The one that screeched that one day he would meet someone who stole his heart and want her to move in.

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