Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2) by B.B. Blaque (interesting books to read for teens txt) 📗

That’s a really bad idea.

When we grow up and she decides not to become a nun, we’ll be together.

The night was colder than I expected and my good coat was locked inside the closet with the rest of the kids’ stuff. The flannel and sweatshirt were better than nothin, and when I found a place to stop for the night, I knew I could layer up.

Then, I heard her yellin’ after me and stopped dead in my tracks under the streetlight. They’d be comin’ close behind and I didn’t want her to get in trouble. Me bein’ out on the streets was one thing. I was a grown boy and knew I could take care of myself. She was still too young and it woulda been a dangerous life for her. I knew a whole lotta nothin’ about nothin’, but I knew Fiona couldn’t come.

I can still see her clearly—runnin’ toward me with those long red curls gettin’ coated with big snowflakes. Tears were streamin’ down her pretty face and it broke my heart. She was in a nightgown and fallin’ over her slippers—a complete and total mess.

“What do you think you’re doin’, Fi?” I stopped and looked down on her as she panted big puffs of freezing breath. “You know they don’t want me there no more. I gotta go . . . into the City . . . I dunno . . . maybe upstate or to Jersey or somethin’. Me and Brooklyn need to say goodbye.”

“Gio, you can’t go without me! I love you . . . we’ve talked about this. We can finally do it! We can run away and no one will ever find us.” She was panting hard and jumping up against my chest, almost excited. “We can get married . . . we’ll figure it out! As long as we have each other, we can share bagels until we find a place and I learn to cook. You can’t go, Gio!”

Then I had to do the hardest thing I’d ever done in the seventeen years I’d been alive. I had to be a prick to keep her safe.

“C’mon, Fi, are you crazy? I can’t have some little kid followin’ me around the City! I’ve gotta be a man now, and I can’t worry about babysittin’ you.” I love you. Go back inside. “You couldn’t hack it out here . . . you’d just hold me back.”

She jumped at me and her little fists pounded hard against my chest.

“I don’t need a babysitter and I could handle it just fine out there! You don’t know! You don’t know, Gio! I’m tougher than you think! Maybe just as tough as you!”

“Gingersnap, stop bein’ a baby throwin’ a tantrum. Go in and stay warm. I promise . . . I’ll always protect you. I’ll be there . . . somehow.” I grabbed her hands and held them to my mouth. “Fi, please . . . go be a nun. Let them take care of you. Now, I gotta take care of me and that’s all I can do.”

I turned and walked away as I heard voices. They were coming to get her. I didn’t look back.

She didn’t understand why I had to do it. Even though I’d been tortured since that night, I never regretted keepin’ her safe from the hell I survived after disappearing into the asphalt jungle of Manhattan.

Her voice echoed in my head as I walked the streets of the City. I prayed she was alright and might forgive me eventually. I’ll never know either way. My life had taken a turn for the ugly. There wasn’t a pocket I wouldn’t pick or any level of shame that’d keep me from doin’ whatever it took to stay alive. The worse things got for me, the happier I was that I’d been a dick to make her go back. She was pissed—I knew that for sure. I’d become a complete scumbag to survive and was grateful she wasn’t there by my side. Shit was bad, but a teenage girl woulda been chewed up and spit out into the nearest gutter. Yeah, it was better to have her mad than livin’ in subway stations, layered in newspaper to stay warm. I never knew where I’d sleep and there wasn’t a whole lot of loyalty or respect in the crowd I was surrounded by. Other street people stole from me and one day, it just started. I needed to stay awake to keep an eye on my stuff. The more hours I was up and racin’, the more chances I’d have to make money.

Enter crystal meth.

I started usin’ pretty heavy and it wasn’t long before I was addicted to what seemed to be my savin’ grace. Crystal was my girlfriend—my best friend—and the thing that made it okay to go for a couple days without food. A meal would last a couple hours in my belly, but meth could last a day or more dependin’ on how much I did. My shit was safer, I didn’t get fucked with, and food didn’t even cross my mind. It was a good trade-off for a while. We had a pretty good relationship and I started dealin’ for the Royal Bastards motorcycle club so I could stay high. That’s when my girlfriend turned on me and gave me a total psychotic break.

It happened so fast that night. I’d been up for days and was paranoid as fuck. That’s what made me keep an extra good eye on the president of the club. Some piece of shit was comin’ at him with a broken bottle and I went ballistic. Just as the glass was about to sink into his stomach, I grabbed the guy and started beating him and wouldn’t stop. All I remember was gettin’ pulled off and thrown into the back of a van.

They took me to their