Repent (The Disciples 3)

“Hand me my cigarettes. It’s time we have an honest talk.”

“Oh God,” I groan and reach into her purse, moving her Glock aside to pull out the pack of Marlboro Menthols.

“Thanks, baby.” I cringe, hating that my mom calls me that. I only like “baby” when it comes out of Edge’s mouth, or not at all.

“Mom.” I massage my temples. “I’m starting to have second thoughts. I don’t know if I… we should do this.” I peek up to see the red flames of the bonfire and a smoke cloud rising into the early night sky.

She inhales and blows smoke out the window. “Trust me. I get you. The first time I caught your dad with his cock in someone…” She twists her hands on the steering wheel, the cigarette dangling from her glossed-up red lips. “Let’s say it was not the best day.”

“Oh God, Mom.” I drop my hands in horror and rub the moisture from my hands onto my legs. “I need to think. Pull over for a second.”

“Good idea. This will give me time to prep you.” She pulls the Jeep over in one fast swerve. The tires skid on the gravel and I sigh with relief when she turns off the engine. The compound is loud. Music is already pounding from the speakers. At least we aren’t in the driveway yet.

“Be honest—you seriously haven’t had sex?” Her brown eyes bore into mine like she’s trying to read my mind. I love my mom because she’s my mom, but we’re not that close. If I wanted to lie, she’d have no clue.

I shake my head no. She nods and looks straight ahead, a small smile on her face.

“Wow.” She takes a drag from her cigarette and the red tip sizzles as she seems to inhale half of it into her lungs.

“Okay… well, here’s the truth. Edge is definitely getting some.”

I’m about to scream, but she cuts me off with her hand in my face.

“There’s no way a boy in the Disciples who looks like him would not be knee-deep in pussy.”

I stare at her waiting for my brain to catch up. “He loves me.” My voice cracks. Like a dead infected tree, I sound hollow. Christ, all my best friends at school are screwing anything that walks, and they have nowhere near the temptation.

“Dolly, I’m a little surprised at you. I raised you way better than this. Grow up and do not take this personally.”

I can’t be hearing her right. This is her bonding moment with me? Her big passing on of motherly knowledge? Look the other fucking way?

“He’s not throwing it in your face. He’s respecting your dad by not touching you until you’re eighteen.” She waves her hands in a grand gesture as if she’s some kind of conductor or something. “I’m impressed.”

I shake my head at her and lean forward because she needs to hear this. “Edge is mine and I’m his. We’re together. I know him.” Again, it sounds weak.

“Yes, well… we always think we know them until we really do.”

I open my mouth to say Stop, but nothing comes out, and I dig my nails into the hand rest and console as if I’m on a roller coaster I desperately want to get off of. I never should have gotten on in the first place. She starts up the Jeep and I lean my forehead against the cool window as I see all the action come to life.

“Mom, my head is spinning. Like I’m not feeling good.” I observe the wild insanity of a Disciples party. Music, women wearing very little clothing, dirt, smoke, and so many Disciples.

I slam the Jeep’s door shut as I look down at my cute outfit. I make the most of my clothes; some I save up for and buy. But these women are beyond awful-looking.

Mom grabs my arm as she heads toward the front door.

AC/DC spills out of the speakers, so loud I want to cover my ears. Like a sleepwalker, I let my mom guide me through the throngs of Disciples. Why does the place look so different? I’ve been going to the clubhouse for as long as I can remember, but I always had my dad or the boys sheltering me—not this wild mass of ugly flesh and reality.

My mom lights another cigarette and scans the area. “Shoulders back, head up, watch and learn. If he’s cheating or doing anything he’s not supposed to, I’ll find him.”

I nod, almost wanting to hold her hand as if I’m seven again and we’re here to spy on my dad, not Edge.

Instead, I toss my hair over my shoulder and follow my mom as she zigzags through the large number of bikers.

“Hey Misty, you looking for Shark?” An enormous woman wearing nothing but a small skirt and a vest smiles at my mom.