Ignite (The Disciples 4)

“Stupid.” I sniff them away and reach for a bright red one. It was made for a performance when I was in the chorus, although I did have a small solo. So much time, pain, and discipline… for what?

“It’s a costume. Who cares?”

My parents paid a fortune for my dance tutus, but at that time we were rich, so it didn’t matter. I lift the scarlet tutu up. It’s perfect. I’ll cut the back and add Velcro. None of the other girls have stripped in a tutu, I’m sure. Ripping it off the satin hanger, I swear I get a slight whiff of my mother’s favorite perfume: Opium.

I miss her. I sniff back the tears. She of all people would understand. I need money. She’d tell me to do what I have to do. My mom was a survivor until she wasn’t.

I can’t allow this tonight. Their ghosts need to leave. Stay locked up. It’s how I get up every day, how I move on. As I swallow past the lump in my throat, I acknowledge that I’m stronger than they were. He was weak, and I’m not.

Tossing the exquisite tutu on my bed, I straighten my shoulders and scan the room for some scissors. If I want to be the best at this, I have work to do.

No more past, no more ghosts. I have a chance, and I plan to take it. That feeling I had earlier about something good and wonderful happening? That’s what I’ll hold on to—this job. A pair of sapphire eyes appear and I blink them away.

That feeling has nothing to do with meeting him. It’s about me and how I’m changing my life… and my luck.AXELA loud banging is making my head pound. I try to ignore it, letting the woman’s body distract me as I snuggle my nose in her neck.

“Axel.” Ryder’s voice booms through my room, imploding my head.

“Prez says get your shit together. You’re missing Church, man.” His chuckle is followed by blessed silence.

The blonde rubs her ass on my hard-on. “Morning.” Her Southern drawl wakes me up enough to realize that Ryder is not fucking with me: I did sleep in and I’m late.

I’m never late.

I roll from my side to my back, laying my arm over my eyes. The fucking sun is bright, blinding me as I try to get my head working.

“Time to go, darlin’.” I sit up, stopping the blonde’s hand as she reaches to try to jerk me off.

“But… I’ll be quick.” She winks and I smile.

“Sweetheart, as much as I would love for you to continue, I’m late.”

Jessamine is a friend. She’s always willing to party and never asks for more. Hence why I text her whenever I need to escape.

“How much did I drink?” My head is pounding and that rarely happens. I’m what you call a seasoned drinker. Not much is gonna take me down.

She stretches again. As she smiles, her hands go to rub my back. “You were on a mission.”

Standing, I need a shower, but I’m late as fuck. I’ll have to wait until after Church.

Pulling on my jeans, I reach for my cigarettes. “You know your way out.”

She laughs. “God, you’re lucky you’re hot and have a big dick.” She leans over for a cigarette herself.

Jessamine is fun. Too bad that’s all I feel for her. She’d make a great old lady. Maybe Rip should fuck her. He’s always grumbling about not being able to find a nice girl.

Grabbing a black tee, I make my way into the bathroom. I need to give Amy another gift basket. My bathroom is so clean the light bounces off the shiny tile, making me see tiny black dots for a second. I don’t bother with hot water and go straight for the cold. Lifting my head, I assess the damage.

Bloodshot eyes stare back at me in the mirror, along with three days of stubble. Otherwise, I’m okay I guess. When I rub my chin, it’s sore, and I wonder if I got into a fight or slept on it wrong.

I brush my teeth and gargle with Listerine. Opening my medicine cabinet, I pop three Advil in my mouth, swallowing with a scoop of water from the sink, then run my wet hands through my hair. It’s starting to curl. I need a fucking haircut, but my stylist is fucking Edge in Mexico. Gritting my teeth, I think—not for the first time—this is all their fault.

I’m hungover because of them. If they had stayed A) My hair wouldn’t be curling around the sides of my head.

And B) I wouldn’t have smoked and drank away a huge number of brain cells. I snicker. Good thing I’m smart and have a lot to lose. I take one last look and decide it’s definitely a Visine morning. Leaning my head back, I saturate my eyes. Closing them, I relish in the burn of whatever magical formula they use. Pictures of small, firm tits and rock-hard nipples fill my brain.