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Spade (High Rollers MC Book 3)
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Don’t sleep with the President’s daughter. Damn shame, because River is everything.
Spade is the third book in the High Rollers MC Series.
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It took me several minutes of sitting in the car and trying to gather myself before I could actually step out and make my way towards the Church. Everything about today was wrong, this was not the way I’d pictured my return to Las Vegas to look like.
This was the city I’d grown up in and hadn’t returned to in over seven years. I was nostalgic and sad and angry; all at once. I didn’t know which emotion to give priority to. I knew I was supposed to feel sad about dad’s death, but I was angry about it too.
While I sat in the car, in the corner of the parking lot, I tried to zone myself out and focus on one thing at a time. Two days ago, while I was on my way back home in Texas from a long day at the office; I received a phone call from an unknown number. I’d answered it without thinking twice and then I vaguely recognized the voice on the other end of the line.
It was Ace.
Someone from my past. A guy I knew from my life here in Las Vegas. Someone who used to work for my dad. Why was he calling me? We hadn’t been in touch since I left Las Vegas. I should have known then, I should have known instantly that something was wrong. It was the only reason for him to call me out of the blue.
We made very little small-talk. It was evident that Ace just wanted to get to the point. Dad was dead. He had an accident and he died painlessly. The funeral was in two days and I was welcome to attend.
That was all Ace informed me of and I couldn’t even thank him. I had to park the car on the side of the road and just end the call in a hurry before I burst out crying.
I switched off the engine and just sat there in the dark while other cars zoomed past me. Dad was gone? What kind of accident? When was the last time I’d spoken to him? Did I even remember his voice?
Nothing was making any sense. I could feel my hands shaking, my lips quivering. I hadn’t cried in years. I wasn’t a crier. Why was I crying over my father, whom I hadn’t seen in seven years, whom I’d spoken to only a handful of times in that time over the phone? Why did I miss the man who forced me to leave Las Vegas, the only home I knew and made me live my drunken alcoholic mother?
My father had ruined my life. He’d turned my life upside down and now I couldn’t control the tears flooding down my cheeks. Why? I wanted to scream. I wanted to break something, crush something with my bare hands so I could feel anything besides this mounting frustration in my chest.
I needed to stop crying so I just started driving instead. Hoping I made it back to our little apartment without crashing.
Back in the apartment, mom was on the couch, splayed out with a bottle of cheap whiskey in her hand. The TV was turned on but she wasn’t watching anything. Her head was lolling to the side, she was drunk already and I wasn’t surprised.
Mom had a very good reason to leave me and dad when I was two years old. She didn’t want to be a mother. She loved alcohol too much and she didn’t want the responsibility of caring for another human being. So, she left Las Vegas and ran away to Texas and dad never went looking for her because they were never really meant to be together.
He was going to raise me himself and raise me alone and I was a happy kid. I never missed the presence of a mother. My father was my world and I was his.
So why did he send me here? Why did he force me to come and live with mom when he knew exactly how much she hated being a mother? He made it worth her while too…making sure he paid her enough on a weekly basis to encourage her to let me stay at her apartment.
Maybe he wasn’t aware of the extent of her addiction to alcohol. Maybe he had no idea what a nightmare it was to keep living with her. When I tried to tell him over the phone, on the few occasions that he called; dad dismissed it, blaming me for making things up so I could return to Las Vegas.
Why was keeping me away from Spade so much more important than my happiness and well-being?
I walked into the apartment tonight, wiping the tears that had stained my cheeks. I walked over to the couch, shaking my mother awake so I could tell her.