“Stop it.” I grab his hand. “You scared me.” He looks down at me and frowns as his gaze lasers in on my face.
I roll my eyes at him. “I’m jumpy tonight.”
“Yeah, you are.” He looks over at Michael. “Come on, you need alcohol and food.”
My hand goes to touch my stick-straight Uma Thurman haircut that Doug gave me two weeks ago. He also dyed it raven black.
A girl laughs and I turn to stare. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s an odd feeling, almost like Jack the Ripper will come up and snag me at any time.
Doug marches us straight up to the bar, not even saying excuse me, maneuvering me forward and into a prime spot in front of everyone.
I spy Michael at the end of the bar laughing at a guy who seems to be trying to flirt with him. I glance up at Doug who looks unfazed.
Michael is fine, I mean as long as he knows that Doug is mine. He can have him in the night, but I need Dougie as my friend and support system in the daylight hours.
Michael turns, sees us, and leaves the guy abruptly. He’s your typical actor slash bartender. Medium height, great body, and ugly bleached-blond hair. Every time I see him, I wonder why Doug doesn’t offer to fix his hair.
“Hey Michael,” I yell over. “I Touch Myself” blasts from the sound system, and it sounds like the speaker is right above my head.
He nods at me, then smiles at Doug. I wonder if Michael is more serious than Doug realizes. Doug is not relationship material; he’s been burned before by both women and men. So, his abandonment issues run deep.
“What are you two drinking tonight?” He smiles at Doug who only nods. Michael straightens his shoulders. “I know you want food. I already put in an order of fries and some chips and guacamole,” he snips and wipes his hands on the white bar towel hanging from his jeans pocket.
Doug frowns at him and looks down at me. “Tequila?”
I nod and look over his shoulder. “With cranberry… Oh my God.” I puff out some air and reach for the back of the bar counter. I swear to God it can’t be. I have to be seeing things.
“What?” Doug’s eyes scan my face.
My brain is on slow motion, or maybe it’s fast motion. Not twenty feet away from me are five Disciples. They move almost as if they’re in a movie or a rock band. Larger than life, they take over the club. Their fucking energy makes them dangerous; it oozes out of them. All eyes are on them as they make their entrance. And all I can do is hold on and greedily look for him.
“Dolly, drink this.” Doug hands me a shot, which I down like a robot, almost choking on the sting. “And eat this.” He hands me a French fry as I try to get a hold of myself.
“Which one is he?” Doug turns around and props his elbows on the bar.
“He’s not here,” I hiss and catch my breath. “He can’t be. He’s in jail. I’m surprised to see them, that’s all.” I lean into him as if his strength can keep my legs from shaking.
“Wait, you don’t know any of them?”
I glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, I’m fucked.
“Stop it. Of course I know them.” I bury my head in Doug’s shirt as Axel, David, Ryder, Ox, and Jas—Blade walk straight by us.
“Are they gone?”
“Nope,” he responds.
I look up at Doug who motions to the huge booth in the corner.
“Christ, you failed to mention these men are fucking hot.” Doug turns to me, then back at them, not even trying to hide that he’s checking them out.
He’s right though. They’re fucking hot bad boys. Everyone seems to get sucked into their vortex. It’s almost like they sold their soul to the devil to get their godlike looks. Maybe they did. It’s uncanny how unbelievably beautiful they are, each one unique and dangerous in a way that’s almost jarring.
“Here.” Doug takes the squished fry from me and grabs my cold hand as he walks us over to their throne.
“Wait.” I pull back halting him as I hiss, “What are you doing? We can’t… I haven’t seen them in a while.”
“Stop it.” He grabs my shoulder. “You don’t hide. Remember who you are. And hold your shoulders back.” He snips, then smiles. “Come on, they’re your clan.” He waves his hand dramatically at the booth.
“Club,” I mumble. “And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, women aren’t allowed in the Disciples. Never mind.” I stumble forward as Doug keeps walking.
“Oh God… you have to stop. This is so not right.” My voice drifts off, and I want to die. The last thing I want to be is staring into Jason McCormick’s green eyes. Who cares that his surprise is my victory. It doesn’t last.
My feelings are hurt. Jason and David were like brothers to me. And for all of them not to make any contact with me, well, it brings back old wounds that I prefer to keep tucked away.
Doug proudly stops at the bottom of the booth as he brings me forward like a prize or a human sacrifice.
“Doug.” I elbow him, then sigh because this is stupid.
“Hey Jas… Blade.” I can’t help but cringe at how small I feel. All of them are looking down at us like they are royalty and we’re some scummy servants. His eyes narrow on me and on Doug’s hands, which rest possessively on my shoulders.
“Dolly.” He nods, then takes a beer from a waitress dressed in a tuxedo top and black dancer shorts.
David jumps out of the booth. “Holy fuck! Dolly.” Sweet David, always trying to keep peace with me and Edge, yet it was a lost cause even then. I straighten my shoulders and hold my head up as one of the guys in the group says, “Fucking bad luck her being—”
“I saw you guys.” I clear my voice and point to the stairs as I yell, “We saw you guys come in and—”
“What in hell are you doing in here? You’re not twenty-one,” Axel growls, looking behind me as if he’s expecting someone. Fucking Axel. Still gorgeous, yet still a dick.
“Rude as ever. Some things never change.” I glare at him.
“With me no, others yes.”
I ignore him and turn my attention to David. “Hey you.” I should be pissed at him too. After all, he hasn’t reached out either. Whatever, his silver eyes focus on Doug then on me.
“What?” I look up at him. He’s acting strange. God, they all are and that dread slithers up my spine again. I step forward, so David can give me a hug.
Thank God I had the tequila shot. The slight buzz helps. It has to be the only reason why I’m even slightly happy to see any of them. It’s like going back to an old house that you used to live in: familiar and safe.
“Who’s that?” Blade’s voice travels across the booth and I pull away from David and look at Doug who should be terrified and instead looks as though he’s meeting future in-laws rather than bikers who are not nice guys.
“My friend Doug.” I straighten my shoulders again, daring him to say anything bad. “We’re in cosmetology school together.” My eyes narrow as Ryder snorts and looks around and back at me.
“Your dad know about him?”
“What the hell, Blade? Yes, my dad knows about my… Doug.”
He leans back not saying anything. Doesn’t have to. He commands the room; all the Disciples do. They seem to suck all the air out making it hard to think or breathe.
All of a sudden, I don’t feel well. That dread or fluttering in my chest has taken over. I don’t need to turn around to know.
I can feel him. The hair on my arms stands up and my skin pebbles.
I can feel him.
He’s a force that only my body seeks. I turn and grab a hold of the end of the table.
Edge stands in front of me. I swear to God it’s as though someone took a sharp object and inserted it into my heart.
“Sweet Mary and Jesus,” Doug mutters. I place my hand on his to silence him. My eyes devour Edge as though I’ve been starved for years and offered a piece of meat.
He’s gotten taller, bigger.
Fuck.
My brain screams danger over a
nd over as he moves closer. I have to move. He’s going to invade my space so that it’s just the two of us. We’ll be wrapped up like a Christmas present and I’ll be caught.
Ensnared.
His addictive smell of cinnamon and smoke fills my lungs. And for an insane minute, I wonder if this is one of my nightmares or daydreams.
I blink. His face is so different. He’s matured, and with his deep auburn hair and his strong chiseled chin, he’s almost striking. As if on automatic, I lick my lips—they seem to need his mouth.
Gone are his freckles. Jesus… gone is the boy. What stands in front of me is a man. With turquoise eyes that look like something you never want to mess with.
Edge was good. He had a strength that made him fearless, but this man is not that. This man is a force and fucking scary. What has happened to him?
His full lips curl into a grin, but it makes me shiver instead of reassuring me.
I have to pull myself out of shock and make sure he knows he can’t intimidate me. I need to tell him off. That disrespectful stare alone should make me slap him.
The eyes, baby. Always watch a person’s eyes—they’ll tell you everything. My brain is chaotic, the music and lights adding a sense of the unknown. It’s impossible to get my mind around the old Edge and the one who stands before me.
My chin goes up as I try to match his coldness. Because he’s not looking at me with love or even lust. He doesn’t even have a glimmer of excitement at seeing me. He’s nothing but dead calm. His well-defined chest, covered in a tight, dark shirt, is steady and moves up and down slowly. Unlike me. God, I think I might have a panic attack.
How? He can’t be this unaffected by my presence. I can’t faint, I can’t, I keep chanting in my head.
I take another deep breath and my cheeks burn. This time, there’s a spark of something in his eyes. It’s not what I secretly want or thought I would always have. Holy fuck, he hates me.
My hands go to my neck. As if that can protect me from his energy.
Danger.
I open my mouth to say something. But he’s not looking at my face—his eyes are trailing up and down my body, stripping me of my dress. His blue eyes aim at my breasts, and goddamnit, my nipples get hard.
A small hiss comes as I take in rapid gasps. The tiny silver straps that are fastened around the back of my neck feel as though they’re going to disintegrate beneath his stare.
“How long have you been out?” My voice sounds like it belongs to a different person.
I’m not sure why that’s the first thing I say to him or what I expect him to say back. Maybe explain why? Fucking why?
His eyes travel away from my breasts up to my lips. I may start wheezing. My heart is pounding; I feel it in my temples as I wait for his moment of truth, some explanation as to why and how we’ve gotten to this point.
“You cut your hair.”
EDGE
Eighteen years old
I saw her the moment we stepped foot in the VIP area. Like a rabid dog smelling a bitch in heat, I find her.
I stay back in the dark. The crowd lets me blend in as my eyes feast on her petite form. She’s more stunning than ever. Her body has curves and her breasts are making my cock hard. I take a minute to watch her, she’s with some skinny rocker punk. Not what I would ever think Dolly would be into. I hope he’s a friend and nothing more. I don’t want to kill him.
“My hair?”
Her enraged voice pulls me back to the now. I react fast enough to stop her claws from getting any skin. I grab her wrist and jerk her body against my chest.
“Don’t you dare,” I growl into her ear.
“My hair?” She leans back and screams. “That’s all you have to say to me?”
“Let go of her. We’re leaving.” The dark-haired punk sounds outraged as he reaches to take her away from me and everything in my brain goes silent. I turn and stare.
“Edge, listen to me.” As if the floodgates have been opened, I can hear again. I don’t acknowledge her and instead, look at this fuck. His stupid grin is gone; his face is all kinds of serious now.
“Edge, wait. Doug doesn’t understand…” She’s all frantic, reminding me of the past and her constant need to defend her cunt friends.
Which only feeds my rage. She’s pleading for him, this Doug, and that makes my head burn. I’m not kidding, the top of my head is on fire. It’s obvious she cares about this piece of shit. I toss her wrist away as if she’s burned me and she catches herself on the table.
“Edge, take it easy, brother. Not here.” I hear Blade in the background but don’t care what he says. All my attention is on this motherfucker who’s close enough with Dolly for her to beg for him.
Dolly.
My Dolly. A pain I didn’t think I could have anymore bleeds out of my gut. Without even thinking, I reach for my Glock.
“Edge, no.” Dolly hangs from my arm. She hasn’t gained any weight, but I’ve gained muscle.
“Don’t ever think you can tell me what to do with Dolly. I’ll put you in your grave,” I growl in his face.
“No. I’ll put him in his grave. Trust me… his cock is mine.” At first, I think it’s the music, but that can’t be right because Rihanna’s voice fills the club with a song about a love in a hopeless place, not someone’s cock.
I turn and stare at the bartender who was staring at us as we entered. His face is red with anger I guess. I almost throw my head back and laugh at how stupid people are. This guy doesn’t look very swift. Maybe he thinks this is a fake gun or something.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Dolly holds up her hands. “Michael, it’s okay,” she says, her voice high pitched. “I have this under control. Go back to the bar area.” She turns toward my brothers.
“Blade? For fuck’s sake, do something.”
Blade’s eyes narrow but he stays silent.
Axel shakes his head as if he’s bored and drinks from a bottle of Jack. “Always drama with you, Dolly.”
He’s right. This is what she always does. If there’s a commotion and Dolly’s around, 99 percent of the time she’s involved.
“Dolly means nothing to him,” the bartender interrupts, causing everyone to turn toward him. It’s a good thing she has my arm because I’m ready to put my elbow in his face.
“Michael, go back to the bar. Dolly and I will be there in a minute,” Doug pipes in pretty calmly for having a gun in his face.
But I can smell fear and all it does is make me smile. Like a drug, it goes to your head and makes you want more of it.
The club is dark, so no one is paying us any attention. My brothers seem to have made a circle. Besides the fucking bartender, no one has a clue what’s going on.
I turn my head and look this Doug in the eye. “I don’t know who you are but”—I grab Dolly’s arm—“this is mine.”
He’s pale but points. “This… is Dolly. And she’s her own person. You’ve hurt her enough,” he snarls back.
“The fuck you say to me?” I put the Glock under his chin. “You don’t know shit about us, trust me.”
“Edge!” Dolly screams, causing a few people to glance over. “Jas… Blade, fucking do something.” She pleads again for help then must realize no one is going to come to her assistance. “Assholes, all of you.” She reaches for her spiky heel, and if I wasn’t so pissed, I’d laugh. I swear to God, she wouldn’t dare. Not after I warned her.
“Don’t do it,” Blade warns her. “Christ. David, grab her.” Blade sounds more aggravated than pissed.
“Here’s the truth Doug.” The guy stares, not even blinking. “You’re nothing to me.” The skinny prick is not backing down. I push him back and he falls into the booth. The bartender rushes over to him.
“Fuck, Edge, watch the table.” Axel grabs the beers while Ryder gets the bottle of Jack before they fall onto the floor with Dolly’s boyfriend.
“Let’s go.” I grab her out of David’s hands. She looks wild, her short hair stuck
to her gooey red lips and her eyes covered in so much makeup she looks absurd. But even with all that, she’s still so goddamn beautiful my heart aches.
“Fuck you, Edge. I’m not going wit—” And I’m done. I lift her up and toss her over my shoulder causing people to cheer as she screams and tries to stab me with her spiked heel.
“Keep fighting, Dolly. We’ll see who wins.”
“I’m calling the cops,” Dolly’s boyfriend yells after us. I couldn’t care less. I rip her fucking weapon she calls a shoe out of her hand and walk us out into the crowded parking lot.
“Edge,” she puffs out as I switch her to the other shoulder, “you have to let me down. I’ll… I promise I won’t scream, but we need to talk or at least let me tell Doug I’ll be okay.” Her voice is shaky and it’s unfortunate that I know her so well. She’s calculating again, showing me that she cares about that guy. Whatever. I have her and he’s back in the club.
“Shhh.” I hand the valet my ticket. Before he can even take a step, I snatch my keys out of his hands and his eyes open wide.
“I’ll tip you in a minute.”
He nods and holds up his hands looking at me, then Dolly. “Catch me another time.”
“Fine.” I start walking us to my black Harley. I didn’t keep my old man’s. I sold it like I sold everything. In about sixty days I’ve gone from having nothing to having to hire a financial advisor so taxes don’t kill me. The house went for way more than I thought. I guess the market is recovering. I’m great with numbers, so I found a strip club that’s a fucking dump. I bought it with David as my partner. One step closer to getting patched in.
I dump her on my leather seat. Her short dress rides up so much I can see her black panties. Her big tits heave up and down as if she’s trying to stay calm.
We stare at each other. Why the hell did I engage? I don’t want her. Nothing but dark shit follows her.
I rub my hands across my face. It’s true. Axel’s right. She’s drama and like a dumb fuck, I’m participating. I should toss her off my bike, give her back her shoe with a twenty, and tell her to tip the valet for me.
“Edge. I agree we need to talk—”
Repent (The Disciples Book 3) Page 12