Repent (The Disciples 3)

I’m wearing one of my favorite pairs of True Religion jeans and a lavender cashmere sweater along with some brown lace-up boots.

“Dolly?” my mom snaps.

I blink, forcing her into focus. “Yes?”

“Are you insane?”

“Probably.”

She frowns and gets out of bed. I have to say at thirty-seven she still has a great body. I hope mine stays as good as hers. Maybe it’s because she was a stripper. Seriously, she’s doesn’t have an ounce of cellulite.

She pulls on a short pink robe and lights up a cigarette. “I’ll take you. Give me a moment to get dressed.” She goes to turn, but I pick up my backpack. “He’s already here,” I say. “I wanted to let you know I’m off.”

“Wait.” She reaches for me, causing me to veer back. “Listen. This is not a joke, Dolly. You can’t fuck around here. Like if Edge finds out that you are doing this, it could be bad.” The smoke swirls around her face.

“Well, Mom, I don’t know if you know this, but I caught him with a disgusting skank so I’m not his girl anymore.” I take a breath. My face warms at those words, yet I try to convince myself that I’m okay.

I toss my hair back. “I like Troy. He’s a nice guy who cares about me.” The traitorous sting of tears makes me look up at the ceiling. It’s yellow from too much smoke.

“Okay.”

I look at her. “What?”

“I said okay.” She takes a drag and blows smoke into the air. “I tried to warn you. You want to learn the hard way… well, the hard way it will be.” And before I can say anything to defend my feelings, she slams the bathroom door.

“Perfect.” I spin and grab my phone. I’ve checked it a hundred times already. Why hasn’t he called? He should be texting… anything. The silence has me falter for a second. It’s almost like if I don’t voice it and he doesn’t voice it, my brain will think it didn’t happen.

But it did, and I’m not quite sure how to deal with my aching heart. It’s almost as if it’s been ripped out of me, yet I still breathe and walk. I square my shoulders and shut the front door wondering why I bother locking it. Like anyone is going to break in. A blue BMW idles at the curb looking out of place.

Troy got a Beamer for his birthday. I got a crappy flip phone.

Before I can reach for the door handle, he hops out, smiling so cheerfully I have to look away as I grind my teeth.

“Good morning, Doll.” His gelled-back hair and his Drakkar Noir cologne almost make me gag.

“Hi,” I croak. “Thanks for the ride.” I spit it out fast so I can breathe in fresh air.

“I’ll pick you up every day if you’ll let me.” He smiles again, his white teeth so perfect I wonder if he has veneers. God, I’m a bitch. He’s being the sweetest and all I’m doing is mentally making fun of him.

Smoke and cinnamon, that’s what I need to smell. It’s like I can’t help but compare Edge’s scent, which belongs only to him, to…

I smile back. It’s the least I can do as I slide into his all-black interior. The car smells like him, and I wonder if rolling the window down would be too obvious. Opening one of the zippered pockets in my backpack, I pull out a pack of Big Red gum.

“Hey, can I have one?” He leans over and I shrink back. This was another one of my shitty ideas. I should have called Morgan to pick me up. I hate her, but it’s better than having to share a space and gum with Troy.

“Sure.” I toss it at him, causing him to frown for a second then smile again as he starts the car.

He turns up Coldplay and peels out. I’m tempted to roll my eyes but stare out the window watching my neighborhood’s shitty houses pass by. I must be in shock—for the first time in my life I don’t care what he thinks.

I glance over at him as he shakes his head. One of my neighbors walks past in ratty jeans, a long beard, and a tattooed body.

“I can’t believe you’re part of a motorcycle gang.”

“Club. It’s not a gang. And I’m not,” I snip.

He looks over at me, and I’m almost ready to defend the club when he bursts into song. I blink at him. Are you kidding me?

He’s not holding back. Holy shit… he’s belting it out.

I have to bite my lip and look out the window. This is freaking pathetic. I’m so fucked. I wanted to like him, I desperately need to like him, but with the cologne, teeth, and fucking singing, I’m stunned. Oh my God, what is happening?