She starts to march away from me, her ass looking so hot in her short cheerleading outfit. I reach down and rub my shaft, which gets hard at every little thing Dolly does.
“You’re becoming a pig. Give me my backpack.” She tries to jump up to get it off my shoulder.
I turn away and walk toward her crappy house.
I hear a small huff of frustration. The great thing about knowing someone better than you know yourself makes it easy to push their buttons.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she yells after me. “You know I don’t like him. He’s a friend I see in class and at cheer practice. Damn it, Edge.” Dolly has a bad temper, but so do I and I’m pissed.
I spin, almost causing her to run smack into me. Reaching up to steady her, I almost shake her. “He wants you. Do you even get that?” My eyes search her face and in that second, I know she knows it and yet she’s still allowing him to sniff around.
“You are a real piece of work, Dolly. You need them that bad, huh?” I turn on her as she stands her ground, this tiny girl with her hands on her hips staring at me, not showing one intention of backing down.
“Fuck this.” I throw my hands up.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Edge Daniels,” she screams after me.
I’m almost at her house and just fucking great, her dad’s Harley is parked out front. The small house pretty much screams for a coat of paint and someone to water the dead yard.
Dolly’s mom has been bitching at Shark to do something about it since a new neighbor moved in and nicely complained about their house being an eyesore.
Slowing down, Dolly slaps my back.
“Asshole.”
I turn, grab her wrist, and jerk her close. Her breath whooshes out and her beautiful brown eyes darken.
“Let go.” She twists, but I ignore her and dip my head to smell her candy scent. My dick is almost painful in my jeans. So, I pull her close and crush my mouth on hers. We’ve kissed many times. In fact, we started experimenting at twelve but I’m sick of just kissing. My body wants more. I want more.
I’m the only one in the club who is still a virgin. I don’t care though. I know it’s coming and I love Dolly. But it’s not easy when all my friends act like I’m strange or my dad calls me gay. Either way, I love her and she’s mine. I’m gonna make her my old lady as soon as we turn eighteen.
I shove my tongue into her mouth and she moans. Or maybe it’s me. I’m so turned on it’s hard to breathe. I can’t decide if I should touch one of her big tits or her awesome ass.
Our backpacks drop with a thud. This time, I hear Dolly say, “God.”
I’m possessed. All I want are her bee-stung lips and her delicious tongue. Her small frame fits perfectly in my arms. Even though I tower over her, she seems made for me. I make my decision and grab her ass.
“Fuck,” I gasp as I caress it, shoving my erection against her stomach. I could almost come like this. “Let’s go to your bedroom,” I growl into her mouth, my tongue twisting with hers.
“Edge…” She closes her eyes and tilts her head back. My mouth goes to bite her neck or at least suck it when I hear a click. My brain freezes. I know that sound; I’ve heard it since I was a child.
The click of a rifle, no it’s a Glock, but it sounds so much louder when you know what it is.
“You better get your fucking hands off my daughter, Edge!”
It can’t be. My mind won’t let me stop. Not now. Not fucking now…
“I said get your hands off my daughter’s ass before I blow your pecker off. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Dolly is still in my arms. Her breath on my chest almost calms me. I stare down at her huge eyes. She’s scared and that fills me with rage. No one needs to scare my girl.
“Daddy, please. It’s Edge.” Her right eye is twitching. It does this whenever she’s scared or tired. She moves away and my hands drop to my side as I face her enraged father. The VP of our club, the only real family I have.
Shark grabs her and wrenches her away. She stumbles forward and lands on her knees.
“Jesus Christ, be careful,” I hiss and hold myself to my full height. I’m tall, taller than Shark who’s short and stocky, kind of like a pit bull.
“Wait.” Dolly glances up, a dazed look in her eyes. “Daddy, please… it’s Edge! What are you doing?”
“Teaching this punk some fucking respect. Go inside. I need to have a word with him.”
Dolly shakes her head and stands, hands pressed together like she’s praying, one knee bleeding while mascara and tears run down her cheeks.
“Go inside.” He spits on the ground hitting my boot. Then he looks up and smiles as I feel the cool metal of the Glock and hear Dolly’s shriek for help.
I don’t look around, but from what I can hear, neighbors are watching and dogs are barking.
“You think I’d allow a loser like you to ruin my daughter?” He pushes the gun even harder against my head. His dark eyes bore into mine, and I know he wants to see fear. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve had a gun pointed at my head.
“I’m not going to ruin her. I love her.”
For a split second his eyes change and maybe I see a slight bit of respect in them, but it’s gone so fast I’m not sure it was ever there.
“Mom? Oh my God, Mom,” Dolly screams and pulls open the screen door, running into her house.
“I should put a bullet in your ugly red head. Same as your dad, you’ll let the pussy rule your brain and go nowhere fast.”
I grind my teeth to bite back the disrespectful words like a stomach flu that needs to be purged. The screen door bangs open again and I think I hear a neighbor ask if he can help. Shark yells that he should mind his own business.
“Holy fuck. What’s happening?” My eyes dart over to the screen door crashing open again. Misty is covered in a dirty white towel and her hair is wet. Jesus, the towel barely covers her.
“Don’t kill him. I love him,” Dolly says, sobbing. “Mom do something.”
“Get your ass inside, Misty.” She looks stunned as she tries to hold on to the towel and comfort Dolly.
“Shark, they’re kids,” she pleads, her eyes darting around at all the neighbors who have started watching.
“You don’t get to speak, whore. And Dolly, if you don’t want something really bad to happen, I’d shut up too. You don’t have any idea about love. But I can tell you that instead of this”—he jabs the gun into my head—“you better aim higher than Fuse’s kid.”
My hands ball into fists. I’m so sick of always paying for my dad’s sins. I’m not him, nowhere near like him, yet I’m constantly feeling like I have to prove it every day.
“I’m not scared of you.” It’s disrespectful, but he’s already crushed me so I have nothing to lose.
“No?” He starts to laugh.
“Daddy, please put the gun down. What if someone calls the police?”
“I said go inside. This don’t concern you anymore. This is between Edge and me.”
“No,” she shouts. “I can’t leave him. It’s my fault.”
“Misty, get some fucking clothes on and get my daughter into the house.”
“She’s gonna be my old lady,” I say. Fuck him. I follow all the rules. I work harder than any of the boys to be a solid Disciple and he’s got a Glock to my head trying to tell me that Dolly deserves better. For a second, I almost want him to pull the trigger. The betrayal stings and the lonely, scary feeling that he might very well take away my Dolly pushes aside the fact that he could kill me. I’ve seen him do it. Shark doesn’t usually dirty his hands, but he did once and I saw it.
He takes a step even closer and I can smell the cigarettes on him. “See, this is the problem, Edge. Dolly is mine. You seem to have some creepy idea that I’d ever think you’re good enough.” He pushes the cool metal of the tip of his Glock harder into my head. “I will do everything in my power to see that she isn’t a whore. It don’t matter if she wa
s spawned by one—that shit stops here.”
“You son of a bitch.” Misty pushes Dolly aside and throws herself at Shark who does nothing but grab her hair while her towel dangles from her hands.
“This is what a whore is.” He shakes her as if she’s nothing more than a naked doll. His hand, the one holding the gun, is steady as ever, not moving from my head. “Even though Dolly favors her in looks, I think she can do better. And that means no to you.” He gives my head a shove with the gun, but I don’t fall back and I hold my ground. Always have. I learned a long time ago you never show weakness.
Never.
He sneers and turns, pulling a screaming Misty toward the house, laughing at her as she tries to get away from him.
“I’m your fucking VP. I don’t think I need to take this up with Prez. You don’t go near my daughter until I say so.”
I don’t speak. My face is red enough to give away my humiliation. I give him a nod and he nods back as he drags Misty inside, telling her to spread her legs like the whore she is.
“No.” Dolly covers her mouth as she stumbles over to me. “This can’t be happening. Edge?” She throws herself at me. “Are you okay?”
I look around at all the neighbors who are still watching. The sun is starting to set and my life has changed in seconds.
“Edge? You’re scaring me.”
I whirl to face her, almost dizzy as the facts dawn on me: everything that I need is being taken from me and I can’t fight back.
“Do you get what just happened?” I snap.
Her teary eyes look too big for her beautiful face. “He’ll get over it,” she breathes out. “And screw him and his crazy behavior. God, listen to them.” She covers her ears with her hands.
Misty’s porn star moans pour out the open window along with Shark’s loud grunts.
Grabbing her wrist, I give her a small shake. “Did you not see what happened a few minutes ago? Didn’t you hear your dad? He’s the VP of our club, Dolly.” I’m not even trying to be reasonable. With Shark saying “No,” that means No.
She shakes her head. “He’s stupid. It’s not like we’re going to listen to him. You and I can do our own thing.” Her tears have stopped as if all this has finally made her think about what needs to be done.
“Fuck.” I release her. “This is bad.” I start to pace because she’s right—I’m not going to listen. I can’t be without her. She’s what matters, but I can’t get caught either. “Give me a second to think.” I pick up my backpack. The spot where the Glock was on my forehead still tingles from the cool metal.
“We’ll be careful. This changes nothing.” She nods as if she’s trying to convince me, reassure me, yet it’s all over her face that she’s trying to convince herself.
“You’re mine, always mine. No one can take you from me.” I reach up to wipe away some of her tears and kiss the top of her dark head. She clings to me as I block out the snickering of the neighbor kids, block out everything for one moment. Because when I walk away, both of us have to change, have to become something that is not fair, and yet what in my shitty fifteen years has been fair?
“I have to go.” Pulling back, I look down at her tear-filled eyes that tell me she’s trying to stay strong.
She nods. “Crazy day. Tomorrow will be better.” Her voice cracks.
I look over at her slum of a house and vow this won’t be me. I’ll make sure I take care of Dolly, buy her what she wants and deserves.
“We’ll make it work. I’ll take care of it.” I say all this for her because if Shark wants to be a dick, he’ll call my dad.
“Yes. I love you.” She reaches up for me to kiss her. And as much as I want to, this needs to be in private.
A dirty secret is what we have become. Pulling away, I motion with my head. “Give them ten minutes before you go inside.” Turning, I walk toward my street. I don’t look back, not even when I hear her tortured plea. Our fate, for now, is sealed. If I’m honest, this is the day that changes everything for both of us.
Turning the corner toward my house, my stomach drops.
My dad leans against his piece of shit truck, smoking a cigarette, the phone to his ear, and I know what’s gonna happen.
For her, I’ll take the beating, but this will be the last time.
DOLLY
Seventeen years old
“Hey, can you look for me?” Morgan pops her head out of the bathroom stall and hands me the pregnancy test.
“Um, gross.” I roll my eyes and reach for a paper towel before I take it.
“God, please say no. I can’t handle another abortion.” Morgan flushes, pulls her short skirt down, and exits the stall.
“What?” She looks in the mirror and frowns, then leans close as if to check her lipstick.
“Why are you so casual about this?” I point to the stick and look at her. She stares back like I’m some strange, disgusting creature.
“Well, I guess because I’m not judgy. Jesus, some best friend you are.”
“Morgan.” I lean on the counter and look at her for any real sign of emotion that would make me feel like she’s not a crappy person.
Nothing. I see nothing. No regret. If anything, I sense an angry vibe that I’m even daring to question her.
“You got one six months ago,” I snip back, and I’m done. I was in a shit mood earlier and Morgan is adding to it.
“Wow.” She reaches for her purse. “Still fighting with Edge, huh?” She casually goes through it looking for something. With her long, manicured nails, sporting a perfect pink color, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes.
It’s like a lightning bolt strikes me—as she goes to light up in the teachers’ restroom, it dawns on me that I don’t like her.
Morgan is the most popular girl in high school. I’ve worked hard to become her best friend. And all that time, I’ve spent hours and years doing things that, at the moment, kind of make me sick.
“Hello?” She snaps her fingers in front of my face and I slap her hand away. Turning to look at myself in the mirror, I can barely stand my reflection. Not that my image is bad, far from it. Yet somewhere, I lost myself or my way.
Blinking, I rub beneath my eyes to wipe away some of the eyeliner, which ran a little. I’m copying the Elizabeth Taylor-Cleopatra look this week. Next week I’ll try something else with my eyeliner. My dark chocolate hair is shiny and healthy. Edge loves to run his hands through it, so I keep it long.
I’m petite, which sounds way better than “short.” But to be honest, I love being small. It feels good standing next to Edge who is now close to six three.
I glance at Morgan. Her long blond hair needs about four inches taken off. Too much bleaching has made it look brittle and trashy. Add her big, fake, pink bubble gum lips and the whole thing looks stupid. I don’t care that it’s all the rage to get your lips injected so that you can look like Angelina Jolie; some people shouldn’t do it. Morgan’s one of them.
She probably thinks she looks like Paris Hilton with fucked-up lips.
I cock my head. Why the fuck am I friends with her?
“Check, bitch. I can’t look.” She goes to hip bop me. I glare back and she must sense I’m not in the mood for her games.
Her eyes narrow. “You’ve become a real drag. It’s not my fault you don’t have the guts to tell him about Homecoming.”
I hate her.
She’s right, and I still hate her.
“Fine,” she whines. “If you’re not gonna fuck Edge… fuck Troy. You’d better get some dick soon.” She smiles, and her big white teeth remind me of a vampire: a blond scary monster with fake everything, even her brain.
I’m sick of her, and I despise Edge at this very second. He’s been missing in action again. Ever since we started our senior year, he’s here less and less.
Jason, Axel, and David all graduated last year. It’s becoming obvious he doesn’t even care if he gets a diploma.
Meanwhile, all I’ve been doing is working my ass off to
get all A’s. I’m in so many stupid groups I have no time for anything. I know he blames me for not wanting to spend time with him, but I’m planning for our future since he seems incapable.
Stupid club. It’s the bane of my existence. Always has been, but now it’s taken a hold of Edge in a way that is scaring me.
He’s full-on involved with the Disciples. I complained last night on the phone and he said I have no one but myself to blame. See? I hate him.
Every time we fight, he tries to pin it on me, saying that he’s giving me space. I’m not stupid. What do I need space for?
I know he still hasn’t forgiven my dad for that horrible day. Even though so much time has gone by, we can’t seem to move past it.
I take a breath and close my eyes as I chant in my head, He loves me. Our love is pure and true. I do this many times a day. It seems to calm the sense of doom in the pit of my stomach. Lately I’ve been scared, and I hate that more than anything.
And now, it’s freakin’ Homecoming.
Morgan’s right. I have been avoiding him. I need to tell him that I’ve been nominated queen and I’m 99 percent sure that Troy will be king. Christ, with as little as I see him, would he even care?
Yep, I despise my life. It’s spiraling in a direction that at one time I coveted but now…
I want Edge. I want to be with him, not sneaking into the teachers’ lounge bathroom because Morgan thinks it’s cleaner to check if she’s pregnant again.
I look down at my ring finger. My nail polish is chipped. “You know,” I say, “there is such a thing as birth control. Like, you’re not a car. You can’t go get abortions like oil changes.” It’s mean and not even Morgan deserves that, but I can’t help myself.
She’s way too happy. I mean what the fuck? I would be hysterical. She should be hysterical. Instead, she’s fixing her makeup and hair.
She turns and we face each other as her eyes sweep my face. “You”—she points her stupid finger in my face and I swear I visualize myself biting it off like a dog with rabies—“don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” She moves in closer. Her Lancôme perfume almost makes me turn my head. But no fucking way. We stare at each other.
Repent (The Disciples Book 3) Page 4