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

. . I only wanna involve Casket and Hazard. There might be one of the guys in the Malevolent too. Since you’re one of them and Redhook is set on us workin’ together in the near future, it might be good to see what he’s made of.”

Bish sat forward and reached for a glass of the wine we’d been given at dinner. I could see in his eyes— he knew shit.

“You’re referring to Blitz. He’s one of my guys from Recon. He’s no FOCUS, but he has a good head on his shoulders and won’t let you down. He’s also great in combat. I’ll vouch for him.”

The guy seemed to have his finger on the pulse of every fuckin’ thing goin’. Between the five of us, we could get it done. Me alone with The Bishop could do it because I wouldn’t stop until it was done and she was safe.

“I haven’t seen your place . . . and I have no idea how one of these auction things would work. Do we have enough manpower between the five of us? Casket and Hazard are my two best guys, next to FOCUS. I’d bring Froot Loops along, but I think he’s usin’ again and that makes him unpredictable.”

Who else could I trust?

Not Rattler, for fuck sure.

“Good choice not to bring the speed freak around, and yes, I think five is plenty. The property is expansive, which will make hiding bodies easier. We don’t know the count on that, but I know we’ll have them. The party is set for the day after tomorrow and Rosethorne will be crawling with caterers and other staff. Getting you in unnoticed will be simple enough; don’t fly colors though. Blitz already knows the place and will get you the layout tomorrow . Memorize it.”

Bish paid the check and we walked down the street to a bar for drinks. I still had questions and he was the only one with the answers. Besides the destination, I needed to know what the fuck the whole thing was about.

“Okay, so we got the where, but can you explain the what the fucks about the whole thing? It’s not an everyday occurrence . . . like ya said, once a year.” I lit a smoke and we ducked into a booth. “How do you get all these Virgin Cherries? What’s the deal?”

I ordered a shot of Jack and a beer and he got a scotch. It looked like the early dinner was turnin’ into happy hour.

“Basically, it’s like any other auction. The only difference is what they’re bidding on and what is offered. There are girls who want to be slaves or temporary subs to wealthy men in the lifestyle. They will auction themselves off. A large portion consists of those girls. Some masters will also auction the virginity of their slaves or subs to the highest bidder. Wherever the auction takes place, such as Rosethorne, will earn a percentage. It’s a very big money-making night for all the sellers and the house.”

The idea was mind-blowing. I guess everyone has their thing, and a dominant guy with a nun fetish really couldn’t point fingers. I couldn’t see payin’ to pop some bitch’s cherry, but then again, I’d already done my fair share of that.

“What kinda money are we talkin’ about here? Like these nuns, what the fuck price can some cocksucker put on a nun’s pussy?” What are they losin’ by a nun who turns out not to be a virgin? “I’m guessin’ they’d be worth a lot just for the taboo factor alone.”

He nodded and swirled the liquor around in the glass. “You would be right, sir. The prices are in the thousands at the very least. Minimum bid starts at $5,000, but I’ve seen them go as high as $50, 000, depending on how badly one is wanted or how competitive a buyer is. A nun . . . I can’t even fathom and we’ll never know.”

Fi would be makin’ them lose a boatload of money. I’ve seen people kill for much less than $5,000.

“Is it true . . . what the sister told me . . . she said there’s a doctor checkin’ to make sure they’re still . . . intact?” I slammed the shot, crushed out my smoke, and lit another. “They think we’re dirtbags, but these priests . . . fuck, they’re evil.”

I got tossed out into the cold and these motherfuckers are dealin’ pussy right under everyone’s noses. Good riddance to bad garbage, but fuck me.

“That part is very true. The authenticity of the merchandise has to be tested. It’s done on a table in front of everyone. The highest bidder is permitted to check her if he chooses. The concept isn’t such a bad one when the girls are consenting. You’d be surprised how some get off on the idea of that alone. This situation is making me rethink everyone on my list or in my employ. I can’t have this kind of thing happening. I can only be thankful that you were paid the visit by the nun.”

We had a few more drinks and hashed out some details, along with shootin’ in a phone call to Blitz. It was just a case of waitin’ on things to fall into place and prayin’ that she was okay in the meantime. At least they did the inspection shit in front of the whole group of rich-ass whackjobs so she’d be good until then.

Who are you kiddin’? You’d be fuckin’ a nun right now and then beatin’ her for penance as dessert.

We said our goodbyes and my brain was already countin’ down until we could get her back. My dick was wantin’ to be inside a bitch dressed like a nun just to try to fuck away the hollow pit in my stomach.

What’s the point? None of them can fill