Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2) B.B. Blaque (top romance novels .TXT) đ
- Author: B.B. Blaque
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âBreak your vows . . . cut your ties completely or walk out that door and donât ever come back.â If that wasnât enough for her, then fuck, she didnât deserve all the pain I was in over her. âYa see, Iâm not a Catholic anymore, but doinâ this fuckinâ dance with you is self-torture of biblical proportions. Now tell me!â
My voice was so loud it even scared me. Iâd been mad and made her leave, but never with the amount of rage I felt at that moment. She caught me at the wrong timeâmaybe it was the right time.
âGio, you know I canât just up and walk away . . . itâs not that easy . . .â
She was still in the middle of talking and I stood.
âSure it is . . . watch this. One foot in front of the other to what I want . . .â I called over my shoulder on the way the stairs, âto be away from you. See how easy that is. Show yourself out and donât come back.â
My heart had been ripped out too many times. I left it on the floor at her feet. It was her turn to carry the burden of what sheâd done.
It takes two to tango.
Now, sheâs dancinâ alone.
5
Sleeping in the Fire
I sat in my office, chewinâ on the words I said to her. There was more behind them than there had been all the other times, but even I wondered if theyâd stick. Fuck that two-faced bitch! Fuck me for sittinâ on the other side of that confessional. FOCUS and Nixx were still in L.A. and I knew I could always go back and maybe hang for a while. Business could be done from anywhere, and there were places all across the country where I could find Bastard brothers to help steer my mind away from Gingersnap. Maybe I can bounce between Grim and Azrael in Nevada at Tonopaugh and then LA.
Fi. Fuck pet names and bullshit!
My head was already on super stalker mode and I could almost feel in my gut it was gonna be worse than the last time. Tellinâ her to leave was one thing, not dragginâ her back was totally different. Iâm not above kidnappinâ and she hadnât even been gone for an hour. Shoulda just kept her locked in my office and rode away to leave her in quiet contemplation. Eventually, maybe, she woulda given up. If those damn vows were a physical thing, I woulda smashed âem to shatter pieces and dust. I wonât be a hired dick, but Iâm lettinâ a nun control me worse than any porn director ever could. All she seemed to want from me was my cock and the bullshit confession for wanting it.
Iâm better off.
I needed to cut her loose.
Youâre full of shit. Go get on the bike. Bring her back by force.
Those thoughts kept goinâ through my mind like speedbumpsâslow, jolting, and a motherfuckinâ pain in my ass. Somehow, I ended up fallinâ asleep and by the time Casket barged in, the music for dayshift was pumpinâ downstairs.
âJetlag kickinâ your ass? I gotta cure for that.â
I peeled my head up off the table and shot laser beam eyes at him. âYou are aware of my history, no? Five Points and me broke up a long time ago. We ainât gettinâ back together either!â
Methamphetamine was one way to stay alert, aware, and not give a fuck about the fact that I was starvinâ when the church kicked me out on the street. Dealinâ for the club kept me safe and spun out like a top. I took care of their needs; they took care of mine. At first, they were just the Catholic Church in leather vests in my headâtakinâ care of and makinâ me beholden to them. When I saved the president of the chapter from findinâ his intestines emptied on the floor at his boots it was a different story. Thatâs when I found my true callinââto be a Royal Bastard for life. It wasnât because anyone was makinâ me feel guilty about what they did for me and they did a lot by helpinâ me get clean. It was because I finally found a home and family. I never knew I needed that shit until I felt it, and Iâll be buried in my cut, no matter what the rules are on that.
Fi is harder to kick than meth.
âNo, ya jackass! I meant coffee . . . just made a fresh pot. You know I keep my hands clean from that Five Points shit! My name is not Rattler.â Casket picked up the phone and summoned a girl to bring the entire carafe to my office with a couple mugs.
âSorry, broâ . . . I know youâre clean with that shit. Iâm just on edge.â I pushed back from the desk and looked for my smokes. âI had a really bad fuckinâ night that rolled over into what will surely become a massive day in Hell.â
Casket shook his head, lowered it into a hand, and looked back to me. âLemme go out on a limb here, but did you go lookinâ for the nun last night? I could see that look in your eyes, man. Step away from the edge. You know ya gotta. What the fuck does that bad habit got over you, anyway?â
A waitress brought in the pot of coffee and poured some for us. I zoned out at the monitors, tryinâ to think of how to respond. How the fuck do you explain the razor blade emotions like I got for Fi?
âI dunno, man . . . sheâs not the only cherry I ever busted. Hell, not even the first. Sheâs the only one I ever gave a fuck about, though.â I
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