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

if she was worried enough to scare the Jesus right outta her—or at least the fuckin’ Catholic Church. I didn’t pray that she’d be mine, just that she’d be safe. I didn’t wanna push my luck with God, so I figured I’d have to do the rest of the work without his help.

You probably don’t wanna watch this part.

The guys went to get Fi and I felt my pockets for the flask and coins. The knife on my side was unsnapped and ready. This wasn’t a time I wanted my gun. I was gonna do those scumbags up close and personal.

“Okay, yank, I got your back . . . your girl is safe with those two yahoos and we’re gettin’ ready to take care of business.”

FOCUS walked next to me through the back corridor on the way to The Bishop’s office. Adrenaline was coursin’ through me and everything felt like it was shakin’. I’d never been so pissed off at any-fuckin-thing in my life—not even gettin’ kicked out on my ass.

“I told ya, man. You can trust Bish. If he was gonna do somethin’ fucked up, he’d tell ya straight.” We got to a door and FOCUS stopped and looked at me hard.

“Yeah, yeah. I know . . . ya told me and you were right, ya hillbilly fuck. This ain’t over yet, though.”

FOCUS knocked and walked right in. The Bishop was sittin’ at a big desk with a pile of money in front of him. Two assholes were sittin’ at the table smokin’ cigars. It looked too laidback, which said that it wasn’t. I knew the two motherfuckers sittin’ at that desk were part of it. They were also untouchable to me. I get the three and he gets them.

“Gentlemen, come in . . . sit down. Help yourself to a drink if you’d like. I’m just finishing up some business with my friends here.”

Those two douchebags looked us over and then turned around—dismissin’ us like shit under their shoes. They were in for a fuckin’ surprise they wouldn’t see comin’.

“I owe you for my purchase, and I must say I’m quite excited about this particular plaything. What a scandal to have a girl in a virgin auction who has already been deflowered. You gentlemen had no clue how her value would increase as soon as I heard she was no longer untouched.”

The Bishop bought Fi?

The scandal girl?

He better hope like hell it was just for show.

“We’re very sorry, Jordan. There was no way to know that she was a slut underneath that innocent exterior. What are you going to do with her?”

Give her the fuck back or make my list go from three to four bodies for the day.

“I’m sure you are sorry. Don’t let it bother you too much. She’ll be well taken care of.” He pushed the pile of money toward the men and motioned us over. “I’d like to make a generous donation . . . to the orphanage of the Archdiocese of Brooklyn. In the name of the Royal Bastards MC.”

I couldn’t believe my fuckin’ ears.

“What . . . I don’t understand, Jordan.” The man with the gelled-back hair started to stammer. “Why would—”

The Bishop didn’t let him finish, just drew hard on his cigar and let the smoke out slowly. His eyes narrowed and he cut in.

“Oh, but Martin . . . I believe you do understand. I think that’s why your palms are starting to sweat and”—Bish reached out and grabbed the wrist of the man tightly—“it’s why your heart is racing. I feel it. Why? Well, that is abundantly clear. Your greedy, sweaty palms wanted the money, and your colleagues knew they were bidding on virgin nuns without their consent.”

He stood up and walked around behind the men, reached into his jacket pocket, and leaned over the two pricks.

“Just to let you know, they’ve all been procured by my people. No virginal nuns were actually sold tonight.” He put a knife to the back of the neck of the one who’d spoken and whispered, “You really shouldn’t have tried to do this at my auction. I thought you knew my reputation, Matrin. I guess you just didn’t care. Know this . . . that kind of insubordinate behavior won’t be tolerated.”

The knife was sunk into the scumbag’s neck and twisted. Bish didn’t waste a second before doin’ the other and turning to us. He pushed them over and leaned against the desk like nothin’ had happened.

I fuckin’ love this guy.

“Well, gentlemen, I believe you need a tour of the place. You wanted to know where the basement was and I’d be more than happy to show you.” He started to lead us into the hall and stopped. “Oh, and Crucifix, just so you know . . . not a cent of my money will ever go to the Catholic Church.”

When we got to the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of the door, I felt like a kid at Christmas. All the rage I’d felt for so many years was going to be exorcized from my heart—at least that was the hope. To have all three of ‘em in the same room and picture their faces—when they realized who they were bein’ given last rites by—was a snapshot I’d love to have. I didn’t wanna rush in. I wanted to savor that moment and every single one ahead of me.

“This is your Mass, Crucifix. I’ll let you do the honors.”

The Bishop stood back and I reached for the knob before lookin’ over my shoulder to him and FOCUS.

“I’m goin’ in first. I’ll let ya know when I want ya to come in, hillbilly. Let me have my moment . . . or ten.”

When I walked into the large room, it was dark and I could