Crossroads (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series) - DD Prince Page 0,4
was my pick. I liked blond men, especially ones with muscles.
I got a four o’clock in the morning text from my brother Deacon asking where the fuck I was. I replied to tell him I was asleep on the couch at Andie’s.
He replied with, “Tell someone next time. We’re all looking for you.”
I replied: “How can I tell you if I’m sleeping?”
He ended our conversation: “Night, Joelle.”
I rolled my eyes. Overprotective family. Especially Deacon. Deacon acted like my second dad. He might’ve been bossier than my actual dad. Spencer was my enabler (minus penises. He didn’t like men even looking at me). He loved me fiercely. They all did, threatening away any suitors.
Rider, my other bro who was between Deacon and Spence in age, he was my other enabler. He got me drunk for the first time. Scored pot for me whenever I asked. And he bought booze for me and my friends since I was underage. And he would do anything in the world for me. Except let me date.
After Deacon’s text, I silenced my phone before turning over and putting the pillow over my head to try to drown out Lulu’s snoring.
Wednesday:
I worked in the office of our family’s bike dealership and helped my brother Deacon’s girlfriend Ella with some data entry, plus ordering of supplies for Deke’s Roadhouse, our bar. Between the bar, the garage, and the bike dealership, which were all in a row and known to locals as The Valentine Block, there was plenty to keep me busy during the day for the summer, until my classes at NSU started back up for my second year of teacher’s college.
I’d had an April to August job lined up in New York as a live-in nanny after having spent some time with a friend from high school who was staying at her grandparent’s awesome New York apartment, but Dad rushed me home during wartime with the Wyld Jackals MC because it kept him up at night worrying they’d hurt me to get back at Dad and the club.
The feud between the brotherhood and Jackals was years long and it had come to a head not long ago, hence the patch-over that made Christian Forker one of us. Very few Jackals had become Dominion Brotherhood members. Some of them got pinched and were doing time. A few of them got dead. I wasn’t told by any brothers; they wouldn’t do that. I read the papers, am friendly with some chatty biker bunnies, and also… have a brain in my head.
Some of the Jackals ran either scared or in an effort to re-group and come up with a plan to get back at us. I didn’t like that idea, but it was the reality, a reality not everyone put much stock into, but I wasn’t new to this life. I grew up in it. I knew better than to sit back and assume life would be rosy from now on. The girls who paired up with my brothers were new to the life and most likely blissfully ignorant. I was glad that worries about our enemy didn’t seem to keep them up at night, but only hoped that they’d still be careful.
Dad wanted me close and told me he’d keep me busy working for him, so I quit the nanny job with no notice (which I hated, but life was more important than a good reference) and I bounced during most days between the bar, working in the kitchen (since I was under 21 and couldn’t serve due to the fact that we sold way more alcohol than food) and the dealership where Ella ran a tight ship to manage admin for all three businesses. I also dealt a lot with the contractor for the new clubhouse project, saving Dad the hassle of the micro level details unless it was a major thing going on.
Dad showed he was happy that I wanted to work rather than just sit around all summer and he paid me generously for my efforts, usually dropping a thousand bucks a week into my account. I needed to be busy. Being idle wasn’t good for me. It made me think about my mother being in jail. It made me think about Luke being dead. It made me think about the fact that there were still some unaccounted-for Jackals who hated us enough to try to blow up Jenna’s salon, to kill Luke, to shoot Bronto, to stab my brother, shoot my other brother, try to