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

“The bagel? Do you mean to tell me you’ve never had one?” He took a bite and pushed it at me again. “You’re already a beanpole . . . you gotta eat. Trust me. It’s really good.”

You gotta eat, sister.

That’s not Crucifix.

“Sister, you gotta eat somethin’ . . . Father Lombardi’s orders. It’s been over a day and you need your strength.”

The only person I’d seen since Father Lombardi brought me to the closed wing was the guard. He wasn’t a priest. He was typical New York abrasive and smelled like cigarettes. Like Crucifix.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, you’ll see. Don’t be so nervous about it.” He grunted a laugh. “There’s a first time for everything.”

A first time for everything. Ha. Won’t you be surprised?

“Sorry . . . I’m not hungry.” I stood from the ratty, old kneeling bench and walked around the room trying not to make eye contact with him. “As you can imagine, I’m unsettled by this change in scenery. How long do I have to stay here?”

“Eh, I dunno . . . maybe another day or two. We got a fancy ass party to go to.” He pushed at the tray of food. “Ya better eat up. Them parties mostly have stupid little sandwiches and pigs in blankets. I’m sure this ain’t your first rodeo, sister. Get to eatin’.”

When Crucifix started sneaking food over to me in the corner, it made me feel kind of safe. It was years before I even realized what that feeling was. Wish I felt it now. He never pushed me to sit with the other kids or to come out of hiding. When he was done eating, he’d bring stuff he’d put aside so I could eat in secret. No one bothered him because he’d been there longer than most. Since no one wanted trouble with Gio, no one wanted it with me either. That guard wouldn’t want trouble with him.

He was my best friend—my brother. My family. My love. No one on earth has ever meant as much to me as Crucifix. He was my first and would be my only, no matter what.

Forgive me, Father. I have committed my last sin.

No. You haven’t. Your last will be leaving Gio broken with no hope of repair.

I don’t regret my initial transgression. I don’t regret my love. I only regret allowing my lust to keep him in torment—in limbo.

Forgive me, Crucifix.

The big ogre closed the door behind him and I was left in solitude again. I went from praying on the bench, to inspecting all of the wounds that were the last touches Crucifix would ever be able to give me. Forgive my lustful thoughts, Father.

I can’t help myself.

I no longer need to try.

The amends weren’t at Crucifix’s hand. I wasn’t cleansed by him like usual. I was just beginning to pay for my offenses. The wages of sin is death.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, please hear my prayers and take care of Gio when I’m gone. Keep him safe. Soften his heart. Forgive him for trying to protect me at the expense of himself and his own soul. He is a good man who’s had more pain and struggle in his life than he ever deserved. He was thrown away by his parents, then the church, and now . . . by me. I beg you, Lord . . . I’m not asking for my own salvation. Please allow me to protect him this time. In my last hours, it is my only prayer. Amen.

10

Walk In the Shadows

Waitin’ to talk with Bish made five hours a really long night between hangin’ up with FOCUS and hearin’ from him. The call was quick and cryptic.

Welcome home, brother. Let’s meet in the Bronx for an early dinner so we can catch up. Little Italy, 1630 hours.

It was almost three-thirty and I thought givin’ myself an hour was a better idea than draggin’ ass. With traffic it was anyone’s guess how long it’d take to get from Manhattan to the Bronx. I’d rather get somewhere early and have a couple beers than go showin’ up late. The whole ride, all I could think about was Gingersnap, where she was, and all the bullshit the nun had said and my response.

I do love her fiercely.

It’ll be barbaric.

One night of teenage lust was comin’ back to bite us in the ass. One night and all the years since. That one night—one hard thrust—was all it took. All the ways I could kill those cocksuckers were zippin’ through my head. There were nights I was livin’ on the streets when those thoughts were the only things gettin’ me through ‘til mornin’. Vengeance can keep a cold heart warm and sometimes it was a damned inferno in mine. Back then, it was mostly the rage at my personal situation. Bein’ seventeen on the streets was a volatile recipe for fury wrapped in wrath with a side of explosive. When all you have is time in your head and the struggle to get through every hour, things just expand with every tick of the clock. With Gingersnap bein’ in danger, the stakes were much higher, and what I was capable of was impossible to gauge. They’d pray for death—that much was a given. They’d probably wish for Hell just to escape the shit I’d do on earth. It was fucked up, but it gave me a little comfort to know I’d finally have my time with them. Fi was never gonna be allowed to go back and I didn’t give a rat’s ass how I’d accomplish that, other than I would.

I’m gonna save her. Period.

When I pulled up in front of the café on Arthur Avenue, The Bishop was already seated and drinkin’ an espresso. As usual, he was in a suit and lookin’