Read X Marks the Spot (Executioners MC Book 1) for Free Online

the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. My body tensed as Clint practically dragged me through the house toward the dining room.
    “Hey, mother fuckers, the first one to touch my grub draws back a bloody nub,” he yelled as we turned the corner.
    The playful banter quickly halted. All gazes immediately landed on me. Faces fell, chins dropped, and bloodshot eyes widened. I recognized most of the faces gathered around the massive picnic style table. Jessa smirked, amused by the excruciatingly uncomfortable situation.
    I scanned the crowd, briefly landing on Ronin, who was leaning back in his chair giving me a hard stare. I glossed over everyone else until reaching the head of the table. My insides were like a pool of jelly.
    Jesse Miller put his beer bottle down and pushed his chair back from the table. Clint had already occupied an empty spot on the bench, leaving me standing in the middle of the room by myself.
    “Thought I’d take a chance and crash family supper.” My pulse raced as Pop crossed the room. I hadn’t seen him in nearly eight years. Seeing how much he had aged made my chest ache.
    Time stood still as he positioned himself in front of me, leaving less than a foot of distance between us. I didn’t know if he was waiting on me to speak first, but my dry throat wasn’t going to cooperate.
    My tank top bounced as my heart hammered, battering my insides.
    Jesse opened his lean, ink-covered arms. “It’s not crashing when it’s your family and your home.”
    Instant tears slipped down my red cheeks as my pop pulled me in for a long, overdue embrace. After we both silently agreed to part, I spotted Ruth across the table, sitting in the opposite head of the table seat, beaming.
    Jessa had a scowl that only intensified when Jesse nudged Jimmy X down to make room for me to sit next to him. I offered a smile to the rest of the table, skipping over Ronin. Jackass. If he’d had his way, I never would have attempted to come back. He almost robbed me of this time with my father.
    Whatever the hell had him so worked up wasn’t my fucking problem, not anymore. Ronin was a grown man. He has always been more than capable of taking care of himself.
    I gazed at my father, my pop, and mentally traced the lines and creases of his haggard face. His blue eyes were tired and heavy. He reached out and cupped my hand with his, giving me chills.
    Surreal.
    “So, you were a little hungry for Ruth’s cooking, huh?”
    I shot my gaze toward my sister. Jessa’s back snapped straight after hearing her father’s question. Ronin stifled a chuckle not so cleverly disguised as a cough before guzzling his beer.
    With the exception of a quick glance toward Ruth, I turned my back to the rest of the crowd. “Yeah, something like that.”
    “Well, I can’t blame ya there. She can crank out some damn good fajitas. Go ahead and make yourself a plate. Jessa, get your sister a cold Bud.”
    “Humph. Thought she moved on to whiskey now?” Jessa chided.
    Jesse shot his daughter a glare that had her jumping up out of her seat. She promptly brought the beer back, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to me.
    “Your highness.”
    The loud, booming echo of Jesse slamming his fist against the table brought a resounding silence from the room.
    “You’re dismissed until you can remember where the fuck you are.”
    “But …” Jessa protested.
    Jesse jumped to his feet. “You. Are. Dismissed.”
    There’s that damn word again, dismissed. It tugged on my heartstrings to see the twisted, pained expression on my sister’s face as she exited the room.
    Once Jesse sat back down, the room went back to making small talk, leading me to believe the outburst was a probably a daily occurrence.
    “Maybe I should go talk to her.”
    Pop shook his head, long tufts of shaggy, gray hair curled around his tan neck. “No use when she’s like that. She’ll settle down and sneak back in.” He took a long pull off the new beer that one of the