Cash (The Henchmen MC Book 2)(2)

By: Jessica Gadziala



I took a deep breath, tucking the phone back into my pocket and walking toward the back door. I flicked on the porch light and reached for the lock. As she reached for the handle, I backed away, gun still raised. I was good with a gun, so was Janie, but she had me beat on any other kind of fight. I wasn't letting her get near me until I knew what was going on.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as she walked in, closed the door, and sat down at our dining room table like she had done it a hundred times before.

“I'm... in a situation and I need your help.”

“I'll call Reign back...” I started, reaching for my phone.

“No,” she said, almost a little hysterically. It was such an unexpected, out of character tone for her that I froze.

“What's going on Janie?”

“I can't tell you that without getting you involved. But I need you to do something without telling anyone that I have asked you to do it.”

“You want me to lie to Reign?” Again.

“Yes. But it will keep him safe. And Cash, Wolf, the rest of the Henchmen, and your dad.”

My dad? And all of the Henchmen. Christ. What the hell did she get herself into?

“Does Lo know about this?”

“No,” she said, her blue eyes boring into mine as she ran a hand through her long dark hair. “And she can't know.”

“Janie...” I tried to reason, noticing a slight tremble in her words. If she was doing something on her own, without Lo and the rest of Hailstorm behind her...

“I just need you to invite your dad, Cash, Wolf, and Lo here one night, Summer. That's all I need from you. Just throw a fit until they all agree and get them here. That's it.”

“Janie if you need help...”

“This is as much for you and your people as it is for me, Summer. Just say yes. All you have to do is invite them here and keep them here for a couple hours.”

“Are you going to be safe?” I asked, lowering the gun finally but keeping it in my hand.

Janie took a slow breath, one of her small shoulders rising and falling in a casual shrug. “Probably. Hopefully. I don't know. But that's not your problem,” she said, standing, and slipping her hood back up. “Here,” she said, slipping a piece of paper out of her pocket and placing it on the dining room table.

“Janie. Seriously... if you are in over your head...”

“Don't worry about me. I'll get by. I always do,” she said, pulling the door open and disappearing into the night.

I walked over to the dining table, grabbed the piece of paper which gave me a date and time, and locked the back door.

It looked like I had a dinner party to plan.

And an epic fit to throw if I was going to get anyone to agree to come...





One





Cash





Reign's driveway had never held so many cars before. Up until a year ago, no one even knew where his place was except me. I pulled my bike up to the side of Wolf's mammoth truck and climbed off. I pounded my fist into the side of a black rape van as I passed, making Janie jump and turn toward me, gun raised. It was a dick move, but she was fun to rile up. I mean, who didn't enjoy poking a sleeping bear once in a while? And Janie, the twenty-something, tatted, dark-haired, blue-eyed slip of a girl who was actually one of the best tactical minds inside the survivalist camp known as Hailstorm, yeah, she was a sleeping fucking bear.

“Jesus Christ, Cash,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I could have shot you in the head. I mean... not that I think the brain damage would be noticed or anything but...”

“You coming in?” I asked, nodding toward Reign's house.

“No. I was just dropping Lo off.”

Lo was her boss, as in Lo was the woman behind Hailstorm which, along with being a weird survivalist camp, also did work catching skippers, did private security, and carried out contract killing.

“Lo is here?” I asked, feeling my smile fall slightly.

I liked me a whole smorgasbord of pussy. Tall, short, thick, thin, blonde, brunette, purple-haired. Twenty. Forty. I didn't give a fuck. I loved them all.

All except fucking Lo, man.

While I might have admired the way that woman held a gun and spoke her mind, I couldn't get behind the fact that she and her people engaged in hits on any civilian for money. I'm okay with killing: for family, for friends, for brotherhood, for business, hell, even for your country. But killing just for the fuck of it, because the paycheck was high enough? Hell fucking no.

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