Atone Read online Cassandra Robbins (The Disciples #2)

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Disciples Series by Cassandra Robbins
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
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“So, I need you to return the favor. Walk the fuck away. This has nothing to do with the club. I won’t go off the deep end. But I can’t do this right now, man.”

When I’m about to start my bike, he grabs my face. “I love you, man. You’ve gone through hell, but you survived. Don’t fuck up. You’re so close to finishing it all.”

His blue eyes are filled with pain I’ve never seen. He lets go of me and backs away.

“Or go be another fucking junkie. And let me and Blade avenge your daughter.”

“Fuck you, you son of a bitch,” I yell after his retreating back. I keep yelling obscenities at him until he’s disappeared around the corner and my voice is hoarse.

None of my brothers know what I’m feeling. None of them understand my crushing guilt. My never-ending pain. This white powder makes it go away and tonight, just for tonight, I need that.

I start my bike, the white powder calling me much like a mother calls her kids.

I close my eyes. She’s there, her golden curls bouncing as she runs to me, her laughter like music to my ears. It’s the kind that makes you smile for days… the kind you can hear forever. My eyes bolt open.

“Fuck.” I lean my head down as the pain takes over.

My demons are silent as I let myself sit in a loud parking lot and calm my rapid breathing.

My anger and pain are not going to bring me down. We all have our moments and we all have our time. This is not my time.

“Not now, not fucking now.” I turn off the bike and head toward the door. Axel stands at the front entrance with a woman, smoking.

His eyes hold mine for a moment, and he reaches out to me. He’s an asshole, but he’s a brother and I owe him.

We all do. When push comes to shove, Axel will die for us. We’re his family. I nod and grab his hand, transferring the heroin baggie to him.

I don’t stay, because I’m in the dark. I need my light like all living creatures, and I know where to find it.

CHARLIE

I’m on my way home, and Aretha Franklin’s “Respect” is blasting on the car stereo.

Because I need some respect.

It’s been a week since I’ve seen or heard from David. A fucking week.

Cindy has recovered and can’t stop gushing and oversharing about her active sex life with Ryder.

I’m trying to be positive, but when your whole world seems to be crumbling it’s not that easy.

God, he’s been back in my life almost a month and I think I’ve gone through every type of emotion there is. I know my mom is worried, but again, he’s my mistake to make, not hers.

It doesn’t make me feel better that when she sees me, she gets tears in her eyes and tells me I’m worth so much more.

Sighing, I pull into the small garage. Grabbing my bag, I take the stairs two at a time. My feet hurt and I want a shot of anything with alcohol and hope it makes me pass out. I’m tearing around the corner on my level when my heart leaps into my throat.

He sits, his back to my door, both long legs crossed. The fluorescent lights make him appear even darker, or maybe it’s that he’s in his black cut along with the rest of his clothes. I slow as I approach him. His silver eyes find mine and I blink at the pain oozing out of them. All my aggravation of not hearing from him vanishes as he stands.

“What’s happened?”

“My life…”

I walk up to him and before I can reach out to him he’s jerked me into his warm arms and buries his face in my neck.

“But you’re not hurt?” My mind spins. As usual, he’s done the unexpected and I have no idea what to do but hold on and breathe in his clean, smoky smell.

“I need you tonight,” he groans, and I stop breathing for a second.

“You can need me every night.”

He pulls back as his eyes caress my face, both strong hands holding my chin.

“I’ll take from you. I’ll take all of you if you let me. Don’t let me, Beautiful.”

“You don’t have to take. I want to give it to you.”

His silver orbs with long dark lashes look at me as if he can’t believe I’m real. “I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s what I do.” His voice is so tortured. A ripple of fear goes up my spine.

“What’s happened?” I whisper, my eyes blurry with tears.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, his thumbs rub away my tears. His eyes close and he brings his forehead to mine.

“Can I stay the night?” Again, he’s robbed me of breath and speech.

“I’d like that.” I breathe in.


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