Koyn – Royal Bastards MC Read online K. Webster

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Biker, Dark, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
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Blaire’s squeal sets my soul on fire.

“Too late,” the man says. “They’re hurting and your money can’t stop that.”

I try to see around him. “B-Blaire, baby!”

“Aww,” the man taunts. “This is heartfelt. He needs to see his daughter.” He steps away, revealing her to me. When I see her, I’m blinded by tears.

No.

Not my little girl.

Naked and bleeding and sobbing. Her mother lies in the same state on the ground beside her, unmoving but alive.

“Let them go,” I roar, fury burning hot through me. “I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want, but let them go. Now.”

The man laughs. “What I want is for you to watch me take from you.”

“No,” I snarl, trying to stand. A strong hand from behind me holds me down on my knees. So there are at least two of them.

“Yes, motherfucker. So much yes. Watch how I make her squeal like a pig.” He licks his lips. “Haven’t had me a virgin in a fucking long time.”

I fight against the hold of the man behind me as I stare helplessly at Blaire. Her dark brown hair is sweaty and messy. Just this morning it was perfectly straight. She could barely look up from her phone as she sassed me about the fucking D.C. trip. It feels like a lifetime ago. I don’t understand how we got from there to here in a matter of twelve hours.

“Blaire, baby, listen to me,” I plead. “Just look at Daddy. Don’t look at him.”

She sobs and gags and, fuck, she looks so helpless.

The man unbuckles his belt and I lose it. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you monster!”

He cocks his head to the side. “Threats get you nowhere with me, asshole.” With practiced ease, he whips out a sharp knife and stalks over to my family. He grabs Ellie by her dark hair and drags her to her feet. Dull eyes spark to life as she makes eye contact with me. She squirms and kicks to no avail, attempting to scream past the duct tape covering her mouth.

“Ellie,” I choke out through my tears. “Fuck, Ellie!”

The man holds her naked body against his. “Rancid had a wonderful time tearing up her tight asshole. She definitely never let her husband have her ass. That was pretty fucking obvious with how she screamed and bled.” He shakes his head at me. “Should have broken her in while you had the chance. Could have saved her a lot of pain.”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

I’m yanked back and the guy behind me—Rancid—forcefully slaps a strip of duct tape over my mouth. He’s bigger and stronger than me. I’ve never been a small guy, but compared to these monsters, I feel fucking puny and useless.

“Just so you know,” the man holding Ellie says. “This isn’t personal. It was fucking delightful and I enjoyed it immensely, but at the end of the day, this was a job.”

A job?

I glower at him, wishing I could make him fucking explode on sheer willpower alone.

“So when I do this,” he says, “it’s just business.”

The breath is sucked out of me when he jabs the knife into Ellie’s abdomen one-two-three-four-five-six times. Hot tears roll down my cheeks as blood gushes from her wounds. She blacks out from the pain and I know I’ll never see her pretty brown eyes again. I close my eyes and beg God for her to pass quickly because it’s too fucking cruel for her to remain in the arms of a sick bastard, suffering.

A thud on the floor makes me snap my eyes back open. Ellie remains lifeless as the blood pools around her. I’m shocked. Horrified. Disgusted. Helpless. Blaire’s sobs demand my attention. I stare at my beautiful daughter—my sweet little girl who just wanted to see the goddamn capitol of the United States. The girl who loved shopping and going to the movies and jet skiing. My baby girl who used to not mind being trapped in Daddy’s bubble of protection.

At least we’ll all die together.

I have no doubt they’re going to kill us all.

I just wish they’d slit her throat and end it now. I can’t bear to watch them destroy my baby like they did my wife. I can’t fucking do it.

But I don’t get a say in this shit.

“This, though,” the man says, yanking my daughter to her feet. “This is personal. A prize for my hard work. Killing her seems too easy. Not before I enjoy myself a little anyway.”

I shake my head, snarling like a barely caged bull. Fury burns like lava through my veins. I try to stand, but Rancid holds me tight.

Her screams of terror become a living, breathing organism—thrashing and throbbing and moving inside me. I feel every single one to the marrow of my bones. This is hell. I was a god with more money than I knew what to do with, but I’ve been reduced to a prisoner meant to watch the most horrific thing I’ll ever have to endure. I’d give up the money, the cars, everything to rewind back to this morning and get the fuck out of this town.


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