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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Her hand twitches at her side, her demons wanting control. “They deserved it, if that’s what you’re asking.” It’s the first time I see a dent in her façade, a glimmer of pain flicker in her eyes.

“I’ll take care of them for you. Their bodies won’t be found. But you’re going to need a better answer than they went away on vacation when people start asking questions.”

Silence, then, “Okay.”

“Okay,” I repeat.

“Ezekiel,” she calls, halting me in my step. It’s the first time she’s said my name. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t know what was in that file,” she adds, sounding genuine. “I didn’t know the severity of a simple favor like that. I’m sorry you got fucked up. I needed help, and he was stupid enough to manipulate into doing it.”

“Okay.” I smile. Swiping up the Cheeto bag, I turn to leave, pausing at the door. “I want you to know you’re not alone, Lily.” It’s a lonely place when you carry darkness like ours, but she has me now. I don’t plan to ever be out of Ruby’s life, so that means I’ll never be out of Lily’s.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ruby

Sitting on the shower floor, I cry as the water flows over my body. My skin hurts. My muscles throb. There are bruises appearing all over my flesh and I don’t even know how I got so many. My brain is exhausted, trying to process everything I’ve been through—witnessed—learned. It’s a lot to try to disassemble and make sense of. I don’t feel like the same woman I once was. Seeing death, causing it, changes something fundamental inside a person. I’m altered now and can’t go back to the normalcy I was once accustom to.

“Ruby, you okay in there?” Ezekiel’s voice comes through the door before it opens and his shadow creeps across the distorted glass wall I’m hiding behind. I feel like I’m sinking, a doom pit opening below me, sucking me in. Why do I feel so sad about my mother? That woman was horrible to me, yet I still loved her, and it hurts that she’s dead.

“Ruby, you okay?” he asks again, his hand touching the glass door.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I say, “I don’t know.” My throat is raw, chest aching from crying so damn much.

The glass door opens, and Ezekiel stands there, holding a towel in one hand and reaching out to me with the other. He’s topless, his injuries once again patched up beneath fresh bandages. Being down here looking up at him is quite a sight. He’s magnificent. Powerful. Deadly. Mine. Just seeing him brings a little bit of peace to my chaotic thoughts. Taking his hand, he pulls me to my feet, his tongue swiping out across his bottom lip, eyes glazing over with lust as they travel over my wet, naked body.

Slinging the towel over his shoulder, he reaches inside to turn the tap off then guides me out. “You’re so beautiful” he whispers, cupping my cheek, stroking the skin with the pad of his thumb. My heart feels like it’s going rip from my chest and launch toward him, desperate to be closer to his.

“Can you hold me?” I ask, an agonizing need to be in his arms overwhelming me. I need him to save me from this emotion crushing my chest. His scent invades me as his large, dominating body surrounds mine. His free arm wraps around my back, gripping the nape of my neck and tugging me against the warmth of his chest.

“I’ll always hold you.” His chest rumbles against my cheek before he swipes me up in a bridal hold and carries me to my bedroom.

“You’ll pull your stitches,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I don’t care.” Sitting on the edge bed with me in his arms, he inhales me with a deep breath, nuzzling my wet hair. I straddle his lap, taking care not to push against his injuries, and rest my forehead against his.

“I can’t shut my thoughts up. The noise is too loud,” I tell him, more tears falling.

“You can’t let the darkness push out the light,” he says, his hands gripping my hips. “Your mind can be a prison if you allow it to be.”

“I want you to take it all away, make me forget, help me block out the darkness,” I beg, grasping his face and kissing his lips before pulling away when he doesn’t move. “Please,” I implore.

It takes him less than a second to make his decision. Warm palms slide up my spine, gripping the nape of my neck, guiding my mouth back to his. His cock thickens between my legs, causing a throbbing ache of need in my lower stomach. My pulse flutters in my pussy, desperate for him to be inside me. Urgent hands fist my hair as our mouths dance, tongues clashing. I fumble with the buttons on his jeans, eager to put flesh to flesh. We’re rushing, hungry, compelled by this built-up need to understand our connection, and let it consume us.


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