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

see a dim light comin’ from far away. It was like the star leadin’ the wise-ass motherfucker to where he belonged. Elbows deep in vengeance. With a place as big as Rosethorne, I shouldn’t have been shocked that it’d be massive, but the walk to the light seemed endless.

Maybe my excitement.

The whole fuckin’ basement seemed to be an actual dungeon. It wasn’t a place for parties or other bullshit. The place was a torture chamber that wasn’t out of place with everything I knew about Bish. The closer I got to the light, the more I could see. There were holdin’ cells and what looked like a row of drawers you’d see in a morgue. It’s about the ride, not the destination—it’s somethin’ we always say. Then, my ride had lasted years and I was happy as fuck to finally be done ridin’. I slowly walked into the room and my boots fell hard on the cement floor. The temptation to go in fast like a bull in a china shop had to be knocked down because I wanted to add to their suffering. They didn’t even know what that word meant, but I was gonna let them know and they’d have no fuckin’ doubt.

As soon as I cleared the entryway, my mind was blown. If all I’d already seen wasn’t enough to get my dick hard, that room was enough to make me bust a nut on its own. I scanned the walls lined with shit that looked medieval and rusted, and then a fuck ton of surgical tools right after it. The floor was the same slick concrete as the area I walked through on the way to the light, but there was also a drain in the middle of the floor. It was eerie as fuck. If those scumbags weren’t scared before they got in that room, they were definitely pissin’ themselves while they waited for their fate. Not much scares me, but that set-up sent chills down even my spine.

I stood and smiled as I looked to the far side of the room. Tied to the base of the cross, in her habit, was Sister Antoinette. A big red bow was on her head. My present was practically wrapped just for me. The Bishop has a fucked-up sense of humor and I loved that little touch.

In the center of the room was an above-ground tomb made of shiny cement. That fuckin’ thing had a red bow too. When I spun around, I saw Father Lombardi hangin’ by his hands from loops. A ball-gag was in his mouth and the streamers pourin’ out the sides made him look like a Bull Mastiff with spit-drenched jowls.

Sean motherfuckin’ Foley must be in the tomb.

I’d waited long enough—it was time to get on with things. Time for Mass.

“Well, look who we got here . . .” I kicked hard at the tomb as I sat down. “If it ain’t my favorite cocksuckers . . . you probably more than the other two, huh, sister?”

I laughed and banged hard on the lid of the concrete box.

“Yo! I hope you ain’t dead in there, motherfucker! I’d be really disappointed. I’ve waited a long time for this.” My voice was just about loud enough to wake the dead and the echo made it worse. “I’m sure that can only be you in there, Foley! Shame ya can’t see the big red bow you’re dressed up with. You always were a greedy little rat bastard at Christmas. Stealin’ from the poor unfortunates . . . remember that, ya prick?”

Sister Antoinette was cryin’ and whimpered out, “Who are you? What do you want from us?”

My laugh came out with a big huff of breath. “What do I want? Hmm, lemme see . . . what do I want?”

I jumped off the tomb, lunged over to the cross, and got right up in the nun’s face and screamed, “What the fuck do I want? There are so many. Fuckin’. Things I want.”

I grabbed her cheeks hard and jerked her face to look at me. “Don’t turn away! Look at me, you fuckin’ bitch! You don’t know who the fuck I am? Maybe you don’t recognize me without my cock inside that vile cunt. Look in my eyes and see if you can figure it out!”

She tried to glance away and I smacked the side of her head.

“Bitch! I’m not over there. Look at me and tell me who the fuck I am, you pathetic, unforgiveable whore!” I was shakin’ her shoulders and her head was bouncin’ back and forth. If I kept yellin’, I knew I’d lose my voice, but I couldn’t hold back the rage and didn’t even wanna try. They were all too close. “Look. In. My. Eyes. Or should I show you the cock you couldn’t get enough of when I was just fifteen . . . maybe that’ll jog your memory!”

I unzipped my jeans, lifted my cock out, and stood over her. “Ya remember now? I was an innocent kid, you disgusting skeeze! Now, I’m the dirty biker who’s gonna send you to Hell!”

Sister Antoinette started to wail. I shoved my dick back in my pants and laid down on the floor next to her head.

“Oh . . . poor . . . poor sister. Don’t you remember curlin’ up against me when you were lonely . . . makin’ me think that what you were doin’ to me was right? Unless you did it to a bunch of us boys, which wouldn’t be a shocker, you should remember exactly who the fuck I am!”

She was hysterical, but she could get one letter outta her mouth and then it finally busted loose.

“G . . . G . . . Gio . . . Giovanni!”

I slapped her cheeks. “Lemme guess, you remembered my dick . . . that won’t be the