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

takin’ off and with that award shit we got back in January, it’s kicked us into high gear. It’s crazy to think about. The money comin’ in is great, but ya gotta keep producin’ . . . constantly . . . then ya gotta wait for the money from the distributors. Once it started rollin’, we were golden. I got no complaints.”

Royal Bastards Video was gettin’ a full head of steam and I hoped FOCUS would get back to the City soon. Most of the shit could be taken care of from anywhere except the shootin’ part, and they didn’t really need us to do that. There had been somethin’ goin’ on in Florida and The Bishop asked FOCUS to help with some shit for Redhook’s kid, Colt. It was a no-brainer that he’d do it, if for no other reason than we needed to get Brooklyn sewn up for the Bastards and the old man wouldn’t just let it go without a price.

“Oh . . . Crucifix, some chick called for you a bunch of times.” Froot Loops bounced over like he was doin’ some of our Five Points meth. He needed to reel it in before he got outta control. I knew all too well that you could get totally spun in a snap and it wasn’t an easy mistress to walk away from. If it hadn’t been for the Bastards I don’t know if I ever coulda. “She said she had your number, but kept callin’ here. Wouldn’t say what it was about.”

Snaps.

Why won’t you leave me alone or be my ol’ lady?

Take your pick, but fuckin’ pick already, for fuck’s sake.

They all knew about Gingersnap, but most had never seen her. She didn’t come to the Mounds when it was open. I’d take her to the clubhouse when everyone else was busy, or she’d pop up at the bar after closin’ time. The problem was, she always just popped up. Somethin’ would make her start thinkin’ about me—us—and she’d start to feel guilty.

Sometimes it was for gettin’ off one too many times while thinkin’ of me fuckin’ her hard in the ass and practically rapin’ her. She loved it when I just fuckin’ took it—like that first time. Near rape made it okay for her to be guiltless and get what she wanted at the same time. It was sort of my fault for tryin’ to protect her the night I snuck into her bed. Playin’ that game was a surefire explosion for me. We’d been doin’ it so long that it was woven all up in my fucked-up kink.

Kink.

Man, you are a straight up dom. You need to control that bitch for life.

Other times, it was just for thinkin’ about breakin’ her vows to spend her life with me. Even though comin’ to me for confession and penance seemed way the fuck offbase, it was what she did. I thought it was just a good excuse on her part. If I banged her and punished her while we were doin’ it—and then more when we were done because we did it—somehow shit was justified in her head. At the end of the day, it was all about her bein’ fucked up because she craves and loves me and can’t help the carnal desires that come with that need. Give into it. You’ll feel better, trust me.

Fuck if I could understand why she didn’t just leave that fuckin’ habit behind and come and be my ol’ lady. It’s what she wanted. She was lucky I didn’t show up at mass one day—put her over my shoulder, carry her out kickin’, and strap her to the back of my bike. That thought—or shit like it—had crossed my mind too many times over the years. I’d even tried tyin’ her up to the St. Andrew’s Cross and not lettin’ her off the damn thing. It lasted a few hours and finally I gave in and told her to get out. She was all fucked up by us, but she wasn’t the only one. No one would ever believe a biker and a damned nun for Chrissakes. It sounds like the beginning of a joke. It was no laughin’ matter. That shit is painful and sometimes I just get full to my eyes with it.

Looks like I’m not gettin’ her outta my head even without the fuckin’ outfit.

Is it a sign?

“Yeah . . . I know who it is. It can only be Gingersnap . . . ya know the one I’m talkin’ about. Anyone else woulda come into the club or called my cell.”

Froot Loops was shiftin’ back and forth and started to laugh. “Man, is that the fuckin’ nun chick? You are one sick bastard with that shit, brother. At least one of you is goin’ to Hell.”

I gave him the finger and realized I wasn’t gonna be gettin’ my dick sucked. My mood had gone from exhausted but happy to the Fiona Zone. My food was sittin’ at the corner of the bar and a bite of the slice would probably be all I had until the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep ‘cause I was thinkin’ about her.

“Hey, I’m toast . . . Candy’s in my office, so I’m gonna go crash out in the champagne room for now. One of you guys do me a favor and raincheck her for me. I don’t even wanna walk up the stairs or deal with her. A lot on my mind and I need to sleep it off.”

Casket nudged my arm. “The nun? Don’t let it twist ya like last time. That bitch needs to pray or say the rosary or somethin’ instead of fuckin’ with you all the time. She leaves you with an open wound every time, and just when it’s startin’ to heal, she comes back and rips the scab off. Not