Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2) B.B. Blaque (top romance novels .TXT) đ
- Author: B.B. Blaque
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It was quiet on the other end and then he answered flatlyâit sounded like heâd been punched in the gut, mixed with surprise.
âOh.â
âYeah . . . oh. Ya got any other letters for me there, Wordsworth?â I refilled what Iâd already drank of the JD and took a drag on the smoke. âCan you talk to your guy and see if he can get his ear to the ground or what? Heâd know about fancy shit like that, right?â
FOCUS started tappinâ on the phone or somethinâ He musta been thinkinâ and I shot back to him. âYo, fuckface. Donât gimme Morse code. Can you have Bish get in touch with me or not? Sheâs really into this auction thing and itâs freakinâ me out. If ya got anything other than caveman to add to the conversation, lemme have it.â
Somethinâ musta bit him in the ass because he woke the fuck up fast.
âListen, ya dumb yank, Iâm tryinâ to decipher this pile of shit youâre dumpinâ in my ear in the middle of the night. Youâve been gone one day and youâre already makinâ me wish you hadnât left. At least when you were here, you had slits to occupy your time.â
I couldnât believe itâd only been a day since I was buried in a piece of California pornstar ass. I didnât even get to punish Candyâs and hell was already breakinâ loose. God help me get through this.
âYa know . . . I was thinkinâ and I mightâve heard somethinâ . . . I can call out to Bish tomorrow and see whatâs up. Heâll call ya. I can guarantee ya that.â I heard the sound of the cigar lighter hissinâ in the background and then he got serious. âTell me . . . is this somethinâ about the untouched collection?â
How the fuck does he know?
âYeah.â I swallowed hard on my drink. âWhat do ya know about it?â
My hands were runninâ through my hair and I hung my head down to the desk. If FOCUS knew, it was because of The Bishop. If they knewâit was real. It was big.
âJust sit tight, brother . . . I know itâs easier said than done, but Bish has an in. He can help yâall with that issue. Youâll either see his face or Iâll call ya to help yâall figure out the where and when.â
Sit tight. No shit itâs easier said than done.
âWhat do you mean an in?â I knew we had to be careful, but I was already countinâ down the hours until The Bishop would call. âLike heâs got tickets or somethinâ?â
He started laughinâ on the other end, which seemed like a good sign so I chuckled a little.
âYeah . . . you could say that. Iâll send him a text to call ya. Heâs usually up with the roosters. . . son of a bitch is still on USMC time. Might have to meet up with him though, on account of this beinâ a fancy, private affair.â
âWell, we donât got no roosters in the City, but all he has to do is tell me when and where and Iâll be there with bells on.â For Fi, I woulda walked through broken glass to get to that motherfucker. If FOCUS wasnât sayinâ he had to call him 911, it was a sign that whatever was goinâ on wasnât gonna happen in the next twenty-four hours. It didnât make me feel any better overall, but in the short run, I could at least take a breathâlaced with Jack and smokes.
âOn to a completely different topic of conversation, ya know, âcause there ainât nothinâ can be done about the rest until he calls . . . and, by the way, I texted him already . . . but did ya meet with Redhook today?â
It seemed like a monthâs worth of bullshit had been rolled up into one twenty-four hour chunk of what the actual fuck? At least the shit with Redhook had some silver linings on its wheels.
âYeah . . . we went to Brooklyn to talk to him. Good stuff. How much do you already know, ya big hillbilly prick?â FOCUSâ brain was like a bear trap and when shit went in, it didnât come out until it was supposed to. Heâs as true as a brother can get and I was still tryinâ to get a handle on him leavinâ us. âDonât play dumb fuck with me either.â
âI know.â He paused and I heard him draw on his cigar. Then he started laughinâ. âI know my pretty face is part of the deal for Brooklyn . . . dang, I feel so cheap beinâ used for my good looks like this. I kinda like it.â
His country-fried personality made me calm down a couple notches. As mean as he can be, heâs a funny bastard.
âOkay, so ya knew. I can sorta forgive ya for keepinâ that shit from me when I was right in front of your face every day, but thatâs just âcause youâre such a sexy beast.â He had me laughinâ and I took a big swallow of my whiskey and kept goinâ. âA headâs up woulda been nice, though . . . even a hint. It came right the fuck outta left field when the old man dropped the bomb.â
I was so wrapped up, fucked up, by Fiona that it hadnât hit me as hard as it was right at that moment. FOCUS might have to leave us.
âYou know dang well that I woulda told ya if I could. Iâm lucky they even
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