Atone (The Disciples 2)

“Let go of my arm, David.”

For a moment, his silver eyes pierce me.

Then he ignores me and walks us out. Again, I’m hit with the bright sun, making me squint. I jerk my arm free to get my sunglasses.

“Jesus, Charlie.” He sighs and scrubs his face with his hand as if I’m a chore.

“Why are you here, David?”

He ignores me and pulls me along again. I’m tempted to kick him. My head is killing me, and I’m sick of his shit.

I’m not joking; I’m sick of it. He shows up and fucks me and leaves with the excuse that he’s damaged? I’m in way over my head. This guy is going to hurt me. If I’m not careful, he’ll do me in.

“Charlize?” I look over his shoulder to see Cindy and Ryder getting into the back of a huge black SUV. Cindy waves. “Love you. Call you tomorrow.” She throws me a kiss as they zip past.

Again, that pang of jealousy pricks me as I watch the SUV disappear.

I’m angry at David for being so unwilling to give me anything.

Honestly though, I’m angry at myself for falling in love with someone who is this fucked up. My mom was right—he’s going to do nothing but break my heart. Yet, acknowledging all this doesn’t make it go away. The truth is I love almost everything about him, and no matter what, being with him is number one.

“What?” I snip, rubbing my temples and trying to at least look at him. Otherwise I’ll lose all my righteous anger.

“Come on, Beautiful. Let’s go eat. You can tell me off as I feed you. You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

“No.”

“Christ.” He looks up at the sky then back at me.

“Tell me why you’re here. Last night you said you were done.”

“And you said you were strong enough for both of us. I guess we’re both liars.”

He fires right back and it’s the first real emotion besides passion that I’ve seen in him since he came back.

Holy shit, my heart is so fucked, because that was a good one.

We both glare at each other as the cars and ambulances rush past us.

“For fuck’s sake, come on.” He grabs my hand and laces our fingers together, leading me toward the parking lot.

“What do you feel like, Italian, seafood?” He pulls me around a car that’s in the process of backing out, seemingly unconcerned that they might hit us. “French?”

“I hate you right now. Why would I go out to dinner with you?” It’s like I can’t help but fuck with him. I want so badly for him to admit that I’m the one. That he wants only me.

He spins me around, wrapping me in his strong arms. “Let’s not do this.”

His eyes caress my face and I almost scream—either that or I’ll burst into tears.

“You need to eat, I need to eat, so I intend to feed you.”

“Were you checking out Cindy?”

He frowns and cocks his head at me like he’s seeing me in a new light.

“No.”

As he starts walking again, I wish I hadn’t asked that. The moment it left my mouth, I knew it shouldn’t have. I’m not that girl. I’m never like this—except with David.

He stops and looks at me, then shakes his head and keeps walking. We get to his bike. He takes his helmet, and I wonder if he’s going to get on his bike and leave me.

“What? It’s an honest question, David. I saw you looking at Cindy and it bothered me.”

The parking garage shakes with the rumble of the cars and the loud noises of Cedars.

“I came here, Charlie, when I have so much stuff that needs to be taken care of, because you were upset and needed me. And I get this crap? I thought you were better than all that petty stuff.”

And now I feel ridiculous. When he puts it that way…

“Do you want food or not?” He looks down at me.

“French.” I stare up into his pretty eyes. “I want French food. There’s a cute—”

“I know a great French restaurant,” he grumbles and puts his helmet on my head, his hands sliding down my bare arms.

“I’m tired. Let’s go eat and just be together. Is that something you can do? Otherwise we can grab a burger from the drive-through and I’ll drop you off. It’s up to you.”

He straddles his bike as he holds out his hand to me.

I look at it. This is it.

If I take his hand, I’m all in. I can’t not be. But if I don’t… and I say get me a burger, that’ll be it.

He seems sick of my dramatics. But am I being all that dramatic? Why do I allow him to completely engulf me? The answer is simple: I want him. He makes me feel alive, special, and without him, I can’t seem to breathe.