Repent (The Disciples 3) - Page 20

“Hey babe.” My mom goes for a hug and they start talking. My eyes are huge as I stare at her. What the hell?

“Talk about no focus,” I mumble as I scan the crowd. It’s not easy since I’m small and there are a lot of big people around me. A few people nod at me, but I barely respond. I’m on a mission as I make my way toward the pool area, my eyes zeroing in on the tall, lithe bodies of people laughing in a circle.

Time stops.

It can’t fucking be.

I take a step forward as a woman snarls for me to watch it, her beer spilling in front of me. It doesn’t matter; none of it does. It’s all but a blur of bodies moving in front of me, a cloud of background music. I’ve found him.

He stands with his back to me, his arms around some girl with blond hair. I’m frozen, I think, or maybe it’s my mind spinning so fast I can’t move. I puff out some air and pull my gaze away. Visions of blood spilling on the ground come to mind as I check to see if someone has a weapon within my reach. Because I’m not right. My mind is like a Quentin Tarantino movie as I look around frantically for a gun… anything. I’m at a fucking biker party for fuck’s sake.

“Dolly? Honey, come say hello to Momma Annie,” my mom yells at me, breaking my madness for a second. Turning my head, I glance back at her. She waves her arms at me, but I ignore her for him.

Like a zombie, I start to move. He’s gone. Not there. God, have I totally lost it? Am I seeing things?

As I march up to the group of guys and the spot where I swear Edge was seconds ago, they all stop talking and look at me. And I know it’s not my imagination because all but Axel can’t even look me in the eyes.

“Dolly.” Axel exhales, the thick, pungent smell of marijuana escaping his mouth.

“Where is he?”

David puts an arm around my shoulders. “Who?” I spin to stare at him and he holds up his hands like he’s at gunpoint or something.

“Take it easy, Doll.” He looks at Axel who simply stares at me like he’s trying to figure out what to do.

“He’s busy,” Axel states, and it’s as though a knife has been plunged into my chest.

“Where?” This time I reach for David as a wave of doom caresses me.

“Axel… fuck dude.” He turns and stares at me, his silver eyes filled with concern. “Dolly, stop. Axel was trying to say he’s busy with shit that the club needs.”

Axel snorts and takes another drag as David punches him in the shoulder.

“The fuck?” he snarls then turns to one of his buddies from his band. I think his name is Rhys. He’s fucking hot if you’re into the tall, dark, and dangerous type. The two of them have the nickname “the Rock God Twins.” I’d like to roll my eyes about that, but it is uncanny how much they do look alike. Well, besides their eyes and Axel’s personality.

When I first met Axel, he kind of intimidated me. I mean, he is seriously beautiful, like full-on pretty boy. Tall with dark hair and blue eyes. Then I got to know him. It doesn’t matter that he’s drop-dead gorgeous. Axel’s a dick.

But his hot friend or band member seems nice, and for a terrible second, I see how my mom became what she is. It starts like this.

“Dolly?” I look up at David. “You look tired. I’ll tell Edge you came by when he gets back.” He rubs my back as if I’m three and I almost kick him.

Instead, I smile and say, “Good idea. I’ll go then.”

All the guys nod, well, besides Axel who is laughing with some girl who looks like a stripper. Turning, I head straight for the sliding glass doors at the back of the clubhouse. I know this place like the second home it is. I ignore all the people in the hallway and game room and head straight for the stairs that lead to the bedrooms.

Only the officers and certain prospects can stay in them. Edge has no room—at least he didn’t. Who knows what’s been going on?

Taking one step at a time, I reach the top and prepare to turn toward the bedrooms when a sound, a grunt, maybe it’s a movement causes me to stop and see a silhouette of them in the corner by the window.

Everything is fuzzy as I stare at the skank, woman, whatever she is, clearly giving Edge a blow job, and I stop breathing. Acid and bile rise in my throat and I cover my mouth while wondering if I can projectile vomit on them. I think I could at least hit her platinum blond head, which seems attached to his dick.

Tags: Cassandra Robbins The Disciples Erotic
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