Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2) by B.B. Blaque (best books to read for self development .TXT) 📕

that bein’ done before. I’m the president of all the boroughs.” Are we supposed to be co-captains of the football team? “That southern belle would have to make his bones with us . . . not for nothin’, but my guys would try to eat him alive. Not a good way to start a new business venture.”

“Look at it this way, kid . . . you guys can be the core of that fuckin’ apple and my guys can be support, but not your typical support club, capiche? You’re gonna want that crazy bastard on your side, trust me when I tell ya, and he’ll be more than happy to prove it. This is why I want yas to sleep on it.”

Five Points. Royal Bastards Video. The Blitz Splitz.

“Alright . . . we can sleep on it and see what’s what when I talk to the guys. Anything else?” I was almost afraid to ask. It was Brooklyn and we needed it, but the old man wasn’t makin’ it easy on us.

“Yeah . . . one last thing.” He took a long drag on his smoke and exhaled slowly. “FOCUS. I want him. He and The Bishop were very helpful and I’m tryin’ to grow my kid’s new chapter with some meat on its bones besides those three whack-jobs. Look at it like this . . . tradin’ a vet for a vet. Think about it long and hard before you say no. Talk to your guys and bring me some numbers to crunch on.”

FOCUS. How the fuck can we give him up?

Once I got past the personal shit about our sergeant at arms, I flipped my mind to the deal. I had numbers swirlin’ through my head, but didn’t know what the guys would have in mind. Casket was the treasurer and had a good idea on how much Brooklyn could be worth to us. Beyond reputation and territory, it had to make dollars and sense.

“Oh, and kid . . . the offer’s on the table for you. If ya get tired of the cold and wanna come down south, I know them three would be more than happy to take ya in and warm you up.”

We’d heard good shit about Redhook’s son Colt and the way he runs his chapter. We also knew of his past workin’ for the mafia, and when the doctor was in, it was downright evil. Sundown was like Colt—practically born Malevolent—and had a national reputation ‘cause he’d been in so many chapters. Kash’s old man was Graffiti, the president of the Vagabond Vipers out west. He’d been cool to us when we were out there, but Kash had a reputation that bordered on psychopath. He was also tight with Bish. Takin’ him up on the offer sounded like it could be interesting, but I didn’t have any plans to move.

“Thanks for the offer . . . really . . . but I’m not a bird . . . Not ready to fly south for the winter. The rest of it . . . I’ll take it to church and the guys to see what’s what. You got a timeframe for this? I can speed shit up if needed.”

There was goin’ to be some kinda deal made and I was more than happy to split the pie with Redhook. It was just a matter of gettin’ my head together with Casket before we talked with everyone else. Brooklyn was as good as ours.

We hung out for a little while to be respectful and then Casket looked at his phone. “Brother, I gotta hit the road. BQE is callin’ my name and I need to put it behind me.”

The Brooklyn-Queens Expressway was already gonna be a pain in the ass. We’d taken longer than expected, but as much as was necessary. I already knew I was gonna hang for a while in Brooklyn before headin’ to the other side of the bridge. I wasn’t gonna get stuck in all that bullshit.

“Okay . . . see ya at the Mounds later?” I kicked a leg over my seat and lit a smoke. “If ya can’t make it, no sweat. We got it covered, I’m sure.”

I hadn’t even been back for twenty-four hours, but everyone—except maybe Rattler—was on their toes since I was home. Casket was always good to have around if for no other reason than he could give me a good hip check when my head was too far up my ass. Unfortunately, he’d just ridden off to Long Island and I was alone in Brooklyn.

Fi is in Brooklyn.

6

Every Breath You Take

I knew before I fired up the bike that I shoulda hung out with Redhook gettin’ to know Blitz a little better. My brain said that and was screamin’ it loud and clear, but my heart was tellin’ me to go look for her. Even though I kicked that bitch out I couldn’t kick her out of the one place that really counts—my heart.

I’d followed her a bunch of times over the years. Sometimes it was an honest thing to check in on her. If she didn’t come around for awhile it made me nervous and it calmed me down a fraction of an inch to just see that she was still there. Protecting her forever, it just came as a knee-jerk reaction. We’d both been thrown away by our parents and then the church cut the cord on me after what that cunt did. Even though I’d tried to throw Fiona out, I’d never been able to. Fi probably tried her damndest to wash herself clean of me—maybe that was the whole point of the shit we kept doin’—it seemed like we were both massive failures at it. Bein’ on my bike and headin’ toward the convent was makin’ it crystal fuckin’ clear that I couldn’t make a clean cut.