Repent (The Disciples 3) - Page 63

I turn to look back at her. She’s not smirking. Her eyes are sincere and I turn away almost as if I’m moving in slow motion.

Doc comes forward with his tattoo machine.

Ryder carries a huge branding stick.

“Jesus,” I whisper as the key Disciples move around getting set up. In an instant, I get a huge slap of reality. This is not a joke. These men are not good. Holy fuck, this is like the real deal, not fun and games.

I look around, for what I don’t know. No one is going to help Edge because Edge doesn’t want help. The party rages on, and I’m letting my mom hold my arm because if not… I can’t be sure what I might do. I swallow as I notice that people are fucking, doing drugs, smoking.

So much smoking.

“Do it.” Edge’s voice is steady and calm, but I jump when I hear it. My eyes dart to his. Not wanting to see this, I wish I could run away, hide even.

I won’t though. Edge is mine. And this is the moment everyone needs to know it. I straighten my shoulders and feel my mom’s hand relax as she starts to smoke again.

Doc motions for Ryder to hand him the branding iron, which he retrieved from one of the bonfires.

“Holy fuck.” I gasp as the bright red-orange brand of the Disciples is handed to Doc and quickly sizzles on Edge’s chest.

It’s loud. It smells. Jesus, it smells like burning flesh. This is barbaric.

And my poor sweet boy doesn’t even flinch. Not a sound comes out. His eyes stay with mine the whole time. At that moment, I lose myself in him and acknowledge that he might not be my sweet boy anymore. I shiver, not because I’m cold, but because he’s hard core. Full-on scary. I mean, how can he get branded and not blink?

“Wow.” A female voice tries to seep into the bubble I’ve created only for me and my man.

“You want to share?” Lucy, one of Axel’s ex whores, almost groans it out. I turn, shocked to see her lick her lips at my Edge.

Doc is laughing, smearing ointment on his chest as Edge accepts the bottle of Jack Daniels and all of the Disciples’ respect.

I laugh. It’s either that or I’ll scream. Visualizing pushing her into the pool, instead I say, “No thanks. I don’t share.”

She doesn’t look offended but seems kind of confused. “I heard he fucks hard. Are you sure? I can make it good for you too.”

And just like that, I’m done. Not having fun anymore if I ever was. The laughter and drinking, the songs being sung fade as my brain replays her words. He fucks hard.

She shrugs and starts to turn. “Wait.” I grab her arm. “Who? I mean who have you heard that from? Is he fucking around?” Again, she looks confused and I want to scream and shake her and say, What, are you fucking stupid?

I swallow, take a breath, and smile. “I meant lately. Has he been fucking around lately?”

“Um… I haven’t fucked him, which is why I asked you for permission. He says you’re his old lady and all.”

She blinks and cocks her head, her eyes looking like she kind of feels sorry for me. One of her fake eyelashes is falling off. Her mousy brown hair needs a good cut and color. My mind is so crazy right now I almost give her my card at the school. She could benefit from my expertise.

“Oh, honey, really you’re one of those?” She sighs and pats my arm making me want to jump back. I stand my ground though as she says, “You’d better stay on your toes.”

She nods at the table where Edge sits on the end, a cigarette in one hand, the bottle in the other laughing at something Axel and a couple of whores are saying. Again, my mind scrambles to keep up. I never should have drunk so much.

Blade sits in the chair that Edge vacated as Doc pulls on plastic gloves and the hum of the tattoo machine comes to life. Did the music get turned off? Because all I hear is my breathing and the hum as Blade gets something tattooed on his arm.

I blink once, twice, trying to take it all in. This mayhem is what he wants. It’s what he’s good at. I can’t fight it, or I’ll lose him and that is not a possibility. Like I have a fairy godmother on my shoulder whispering to me what I must do.

I maneuver my way forward, ignoring a group of loud bikers who sound pissed about some whore. In fact, there’s a good chance I might be the only non-whore here.

“Doc?” The buzzing on Blade’s arm continues but I can now hear the music again along with the party.

Tags: Cassandra Robbins The Disciples Erotic
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