Repent (The Disciples 3)

“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.