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Atone (The Disciples 2)

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Even at my lowest when I was living on nothing but yogurt and heroin, I still had the nightmares. Though I used drugs to take them away, it made them move in with me. I inhale deeply, letting the nicotine calm me.

As Blade drops a cardboard box on the dresser with a thud, I turn. The name “David” is written on it in almost unrecognizable letters. I turn back to the sunrise as a cold sweat starts at my neck.

“Open it after I go.” Blade drops into one of the chairs in the corner and lights up.

His green eyes are alert but tired. He runs his hands through his hair. I guess his demons are fucking with him tonight too. I still hear faint music and laughter from outside, so the party’s still going on. Blade leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

“Why are you back, David? Are you seriously back to stay? Or are you back for revenge?”

Sighing, I crack my neck and grab the other chair, spin it around, and straddle it. “Both.”

After one last inhale of my cigarette, I reach over to stub it out in the ashtray.

Blade looks down at his hands and brings the cigarette to his lips. The orange tip distracts me for a moment.

“We’re your family. That’s why I let you back.” He leans forward as his green eyes bore into mine, unblinking. “But, don’t fuck with me. I love you and you’re my blood, but if you think you’re going to come in and persuade us to blow up half the clubs because you can’t remember… I need you to hear me. I’ll take you down.”

I nod, then lean back and rub my hands up and down my face, wincing at my sore chin and the cut on my eyelid.

“I think there’s a rat. Inside the club. Someone close.” There. I said what has been eating at me like a dirty secret that should never be repeated.

He stares, and his eyes narrow as he exhales and stands. “I know.”

I hear a bike start up and the faint sounds of the birds, but the music has stopped at last.

“I keep going over that day… someone let them know where the lab was and that we were all going to be there. That was a one and a million shot, Blade.” I stand and move back to the window, seeing everything in slow motion.

“Your dad made sure we were never all together like that. For that exact reason.”

He holds up his hand. “If there’s a fucking rat, I’ll kill him. I’m starting up the lab. We’ll put it out on the street that we are back in business.” He turns to go. “And don’t trust anyone until it’s over.”

I don’t know who he’s telling this last bit to—him or me? Because I sure as shit don’t trust a soul.

“We’re going to need money. I’ll move around some cash.”

I stand next to him as we gaze down at the debauchery that remains.

“I’ve got money.”

He snorts at the door. “Your poetry book is not going to fund this war.”

I look down and smile. Blade was the only one who knew I wrote poetry. Both of us were smart, so while he was busy trying to figure out the latest mathematical equation, I was writing, baring my soul in rhyme.

“What? Did you think I didn’t know?” He shakes his head. “I even bought a copy, though to be honest, it reads like the crazy ramblings of a drug addict.”

I throw back my head and laugh. “It is just that, Blade. Half those poems I don’t even understand myself, but it sold.”

I reach for another cigarette. “Don’t worry about money. I have a friend with unlimited funds who feels he owes me.” I flick the lighter. “Now I’m going to tell him yes.”

“Jesus Christ.” He leans against the door and speaks slowly. “I said, trust nobody, not even the family.”

“Reed is my family.” I straighten, daring him to give me shit about the club code. That code died for me long ago.

“Reed has the connections and the funds to make sure we can get this right.”

He shakes his head. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear all this. You want me to have Amy get you some ice? That eye looks like shit.”

“I’m fine,” I say, bringing the cigarette to my mouth.

“Edge collected your stuff when you left. I put some of the things I knew you’d want in here.” He points to the cardboard box.

My throat tightens and I simply nod. I know what’s in it. I left it—don’t deserve to wear it.

“I’m going to sleep for a few hours. Then I need to take my boy and Angel back to our house. We need to start going over all of this, Poet. Calculate everything: all our enemies, my dad’s, Chuck’s, etcetera.” Blade walks out the door.



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