Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2) B.B. Blaque (top romance novels .TXT) đ
- Author: B.B. Blaque
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I could barely understand her, but got the gist. âWhat fuckinâ guy, Fi? One of my brothers who brought you here? Did one of them hurt you? So help me God, Iâll kill him!â
Was it Hazard? The Bishop?
Wasnât FOCUS or Casket.
Who else knew?
âI saw him . . . he had a vest like yours, but I knew the voice as soon as I heard it. Oh, my God, that voice!â The shakinâ got worse and her legs were pulled tighter to her chest. âWhy, Gio? Iâm sorry I hurt you, but why did you do this?â
A vest like mine? Who the fuck is gonna die now?
âYou need to know I did not do this to you . . . would never do this to you!â I stood up faster than I probably shouldâve, but I needed to take care of shit. I was just short of losinâ control. âI love you and always have. Hold on to that while I go find out what the fuck is goinâ on. I love you, Fi! I did not do this, but Iâm gonna find out right now who did!â
I stormed outta the bedroom and stomped down the hall until I was in the main room of the clubhouse. There were balls on the pool table, and I grabbed one and slammed it against a door.
âWho the fuck did this to her?â I picked up another one and threw it against the wall and broke a mirror and neon light. âWhich one of you motherfuckers is gonna get Crucifixed for this!â
FOCUS ran up to me and almost caught a right hook to the face with the bottle of Jack
âFuck, yank! You need to take your crazy Sicilian ass outside now! You wanna crucify a son of a bitch, Iâll get ya the nails and hammer, but you are scarinâ the fuck outta everyone!â He pushed the bottle into my chest and grabbed the back of my head. âDrink!â
He tipped the bottle up to me and yanked my arm until I was out the door and back in the dark garage. My adrenaline had been workinâ overtime, and I didnât know who I could trust in that second except for FOCUS and Casket. I took a deep breath, lit a smoke, and stared through FOCUS
âWho am I gonna kill? One of our brothers did this to her and I wanna know who.â
He started to walk toward the back office in the garage, and I followed. When we got to the door, he looked at me and put a hand on my shoulder. âDonât go off half-cocked. If you want a crucifixion you canât just go at him like a rabid dog.â
When I got into the office, my wrath couldnât be contained, and I slammed the chair back until that motherfuckerâs head hit the wall.
âYou cocksuckinâ piece of shit!â I pulled my fist back and nailed him in the middle of the face. Heâd already been worked over pretty good, but it was nothinâ compared to what I was gonna do. âI knew you were a scumbag! Your ass shoulda been outta here a long time ago. Now, youâre gonna pay with your life! Do you wanna explain why?â
âEh, I didnât know it was your nun . . . lucky me, huh? If I woulda known youâd tapped that, I woulda really fucked her.â Rattlerâs lips were busted and his words were slurred, but he was beinâ the same asshole he always was. âWonder if youâll still taste my cum when you kiss her.â
That prick knew he was gonna die and had basically just said a prayer for it.
âFOCUS . . . Iâll take the nails now.â I lit another smoke and thought for a second. âBring me nine of âem.â
Hazard and Casket left the office and went to get things set up. Weâd done it before, and they knew where I was headed with shit. Rattler does too. FOCUS stood behind the chair and rolled him outta the office. I couldnât wait for the first nail to sink in.
Rattler was a scumbag, but to get in bed with the fuckinâ Catholic Church after knowinâ my history took a major set of balls. It was time to clean house. I only wish weâd done it sooner. Before Fi was involved.
I looked around the shop table until I found my gloves and the big clawed hammer. I didnât wanna waste too much time on him. There wasnât a lot to say and I needed to get back to Fi. She was my priority and Rattler was just another obstacle.
When I got over to where the guys were, Rattler had been untied and was beinâ held on a few pallets. Casket and Hazard were each holdinâ a leg and FOCUS was kneelinâ on his arms and sittinâ on his chest. He wasnât gonna move that big hillbilly offa him before I was done.
âI donât wanna hear your mouth . . . youâre dead to me and dead men tell no tales.â I squatted by his head and drove the first nail into the webbing of one of his beefy fingers. He screamed and I slammed the hammer into his mouth. âShut the fuck up! I told you. I donât wanna hear you!â
I nailed the webbing between each of his fingers to the wood and he passed out from the pain. Each time the hammer came down, it broke a finger or two until they were a gnarled mess. He wasnât gonna need âem and I didnât stop until all eight were done. Thatâs when he started to squirm.
âOh . . . whatâs the matter, tough guy? That nutsack climbinâ up inside ya about now?â I undid his belt and started to yank down his pants. âDonât worry. Iâm just about done with ya. Figured the last thing youâll remember
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