Repent (The Disciples 3)

“Fuck you, Vicki. He picked me,” the other one says as she drops her purse and kneels, clumsily trying to unzip my pants.

“Christ,” I sneer. Having no patience, I push her hands aside to release my thick, hard cock.

“Oh. My. God,” both say as they look at me. I almost smile.

“Suck,” I demand.

“Your dick is freaking huge.” Her eyes look all wrong as they blink up at me. I lean my head back against the brick wall and let her blow me. The other one squirms and licks her lips as my cock goes in and out of her friend’s mouth.

“You, watch and make sure we’re not disturbed,” I grunt out to the girl.

The sloppy one tries to deep throat me. The thing is she’s shit-faced and not very good at giving head. And my cock is at least nine inches. So deep throating is gonna make her gag, maybe even puke considering the condition she’s in.

“Come here.” My eyes narrow in on the friend whose eyes dart around while she makes sure we’re alone. I don’t plan on taking long, but the girl is inept. So, I grab the neck of the friend who definitely seems turned on.

“Spread your legs.” She does, and my hand goes from her neck to her drenched cunt as I finger fuck her. Her loud moans are exactly what I need. I shoot my load in the sloppy one’s mouth and she gags on it. I couldn’t care less. At least I can see straight again.

“I’m feeling good today. Just got out of jail and all so I’ll reward you.” I rub her clit, and as she reaches for me. Her cunt spasms and squirts causing me to step back. I don’t want it on my boots.

Axel comes around the corner, and his eyes take in the scene. “Christ, man,” he says, throwing his head back to laugh. I zip up my pants as both girls look a little stunned. The one that squirted reaches for me as if she’s going to join us.

“I didn’t say you can touch me.” I scowl, already walking toward Axel.

“Wait.” The girl who blew me stands up and clings to her friend.

Axel and I ignore them as we enter the dark bar. Some crappy pop song I’m not familiar with is playing. It must be new. The smell of booze on the old green carpet is strong. My eyes adjust to the darkness as the whole bar erupts into loud applause.

“What the fuck?” I smile as I look around. My band of brothers is here.

The Disciples.

Even old-timers showed up, as well as some new faces I’ve never seen.

“Welcome home, brother.” Axel pats my shoulder letting my family greet me, and for the first time in years, I feel at home.DOLLY

Eighteen years oldI spent my eighteenth birthday in my shrink’s office listening to her explain why I have a recurring nightmare that I’m being strangled. It’s rather stupid and I’m over it. The one good thing that did come out of our talks is that Karen has made it easy to blame everything on the “incident.”

I can’t stand school: the incident. A teacher tries to lecture me about how my grades are in the toilet: the incident.

Troy has not been charged with attempted murder or rape, nor will he be. Somehow, while he was recuperating, he had a mysterious drug overdose and his parents put him in a home to get care, I guess.

You don’t fuck with the Disciples. I learned that firsthand the morning they were going to sentence Edge after the hellish night that became the first of my recurring nightmares.

I woke after barely drifting to sleep. At most, I slept maybe forty-five minutes, but it didn’t matter. I knew what I had to do. I was going to testify. No way was he going to jail for being a hero. My hero.

The thought of living without him was unbearable. He saved me and now I needed to save him. I dressed to impress, classy and yet young, vulnerable. When I went to open my bedroom door it was locked.

I had become a prisoner. A fucking nonexistent human being. I was expendable and I never felt more alone than I did that day.

It changed me. Suddenly my dad was not my hero. He was exactly what my mom bitched about yet always put up with.

She was right—he never put us first. That morning was a huge wake-up call. The club will always come first even if he has to sacrifice his own daughter and an innocent for it.

The moment he locked my door, I was done.

Done with him and the club. It didn’t matter that I spent hours screaming and kicking. My dad had decided, and my mom followed.

After Edge was sentenced, my mom let me out and told me I needed professional help. It sounded so pathetic I laughed in her face.