Carnage (Royal Bastards MC #3) Read Online Ker Dukey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Royal Bastards MC Series by Ker Dukey
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
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“Oh, I’m sorry I cried, Mom. Maybe if you would have put powder milk in my bottle instead of powder drugs up your nose, I’d have shut the hell up.” I swipe up her dirty towel.

“Fuck you, you ungrateful brat. I should have flushed you when I had the chance.”

What a heartless bitch. “Glad we know how you really feel.”

“You’ve always looked down your nose at me. Miss I Go To College and Think I’m the Virgin Mary.” Her finger jabs at the air toward me.

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that, right?” I seethe.

“Crazy knows crazy, sweetheart.” She barges past me into the living room. Pain aches through my chest, my head throbbing as tears well in my eyes. Why can’t I just hate her and move on?

Ezekiel’s green eyes clash with mine from across the hall. “You want me to kill her for you?” There’s no humor in his question. Just a cold stillness. He’s serious.

“After the shit we went through to save her ass, that would counterproductive, don’t you think?” I cross my arms, swallowing down the hurt her words inflicted on me.

“I can live with it.” He’s still bleeding, his shirt gaping.

“Unfortunately, I can’t.” I sigh. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chapter Ten

Carnage

Don’t kill that bitch. Don’t kill that bitch. Don’t kill that bitch, I repeat to myself over and over while listening to her berate and moan her ass off to Ruby. “I need my medicine,” she repeats for the fifth time, scratching at her track marks. I hand her a cup of tea, and her eyes expand, watching me warily. “I added some pain killers. It will take the edge off while we figure shit out,” I tell her, wanting to throw the cup in her face and slit her throat to put us all out of our misery.

“Thank you,” Ruby mouths in my direction, taking a deep breath. She’s exhausted, mentally and physically.

Replacing her bowl of water, she rearranges the medical crap on the coffee table and taps the couch with the palm of her hand. “Come lay down. Let’s get you fixed up so you can get some sleep.” She yawns and shakes it off, trying to wake herself up.

“Oh, you’re nice to him but your own mother can rot,” the cunt snipes from the armchair.

“Bitch, if you don’t give that mouth a rest, I will sew the fucking thing shut,” I rage, my anger a hot poker over a raw nerve. My threat shuts her up, those beady eyes dropping to her lap as she sips the tea.

Peeling the shirt from my tacky skin, I drop onto the couch, the plastic shit sticking to me and crinkling under my weight. Why the hell do old people do this? A couch should be comfortable.

“Okay, I’m going to clean it and put two new stitches in,” she says it more to herself than to me. “Do you want to bite down on something?” she asks, her nose scrunching up.

I’d like to bite down on her juicy ass, those jeans showcasing it like meat on a deli. I shake my head. “Just do it.”

It’s sensitive as hell when she washes it and burns like a motherfucker when she squeezes the skin and pricks it with the needle. “Ew, ew, ew, ew,” she mumbles, almost gagging then gritting her teeth.

Her mother’s cup falls to the carpet beside her, making her pause.

Finally, silence from the vile beast.

“What the hell did you put in the tea?” she breathes, looking over at her mother slouched in the armchair.

“Rohypnol.” What the fuck did she expect me to put in it? Neither one of them thought it was weird I made a cup of tea. These grandpa clothes are cramping my image.

“Is that dangerous?” She worries her lip with her teeth.

“With what she usually has going through the bloodstream? No.” That woman is a loose cannon. We can’t trust her, and there’s no way in hell I was sleeping tonight knowing she could stab me or escape and tell people where we are.

“I know she’s a lot to deal with.” Embarrassment heats her cheeks and catches in her throat.

“Don’t ever apologize for shit outta your control,” I tell her.

Bobbing her head up and down, she sniffles. “I know. It’s just…you killed for her.”

“No, I fucking didn’t. I went for you, not her.” I wouldn’t piss on that creature if she was on fire.

“I just…thank you.” She closes her eyes. “Thank you for not making me go alone, for not abandoning me.” She ties the last stitch and exhales a relieved breath. “All done and no passing out.” Her eyes flit to her mother. “Not me anyway.”

A genuine grin lifts my lips. “So, Virgin Mary?” I say out of the blue. She cuts her gaze to me.

Rolling her eyes, she smacks my thigh and gets to her feet, picking the mug up as she does. “Out of everything she said, you chose to hear that?”


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