Repent Read online Cassandra Robbins (The Disciples #3)

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Disciples Series by Cassandra Robbins
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
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“Edge,” she puffs out as I switch her to the other shoulder, “you have to let me down. I’ll… I promise I won’t scream, but we need to talk or at least let me tell Doug I’ll be okay.” Her voice is shaky and it’s unfortunate that I know her so well. She’s calculating again, showing me that she cares about that guy. Whatever. I have her and he’s back in the club.

“Shhh.” I hand the valet my ticket. Before he can even take a step, I snatch my keys out of his hands and his eyes open wide.

“I’ll tip you in a minute.”

He nods and holds up his hands looking at me, then Dolly. “Catch me another time.”

“Fine.” I start walking us to my black Harley. I didn’t keep my old man’s. I sold it like I sold everything. In about sixty days I’ve gone from having nothing to having to hire a financial advisor so taxes don’t kill me. The house went for way more than I thought. I guess the market is recovering. I’m great with numbers, so I found a strip club that’s a fucking dump. I bought it with David as my partner. One step closer to getting patched in.

I dump her on my leather seat. Her short dress rides up so much I can see her black panties. Her big tits heave up and down as if she’s trying to stay calm.

We stare at each other. Why the hell did I engage? I don’t want her. Nothing but dark shit follows her.

I rub my hands across my face. It’s true. Axel’s right. She’s drama and like a dumb fuck, I’m participating. I should toss her off my bike, give her back her shoe with a twenty, and tell her to tip the valet for me.

“Edge. I agree we need to talk—”

“I never said that.” Her one eye starts to twitch and she’s taking in small gasps of air. Again, I feel myself softening. It’s hard to hate someone you’ve spent your whole life loving. It’s also a fucking nightmare not to grab her and fuck her right in this parking lot. She’s my obsession. Even knowing she’s bad, unhealthy, her cunt calls to me.

“Edge?” I blink at her. “I have to call Doug. He’ll worry or do something drastic.” And there goes my moment. Rage trickles through my blood like water that’s starting to boil. She’s not screaming, only stating a fact. Her clothes, makeup, and hair make me grind my teeth.

“Are you a whore?” She pales and tries to hop off. I grab her, easily stopping her so that our faces are inches apart. It’s a mistake because in an instant, her unique candy smell sinks into me.

“You don’t have to be ashamed. Like mother like dau—” And she moves to slap me, her small hand connecting with my cheek.

She’s not strong enough to do any damage and I smile. Dolly has no idea what I’ve become.

“You need to be careful, Dolly.” I grab her hand and place it on my hard cock. She looks almost stunned. “That kind of play turns me on.”

“What’s happened to you?” she whispers.

I let go of her hand so I can cage her in. As she leans back, she has no choice but to grab on to me.

“Prison.”

If I had slapped her, I think she would have liked it better. She shakes her head and her bourbon eyes blink back tears. As I straighten, we stare at each other and I smile. She puffs out some air, and I reach into my back pocket for my phone.

“Call your boyfriend and tell him you’re alive. If he calls the police, tell him I’ll put a bullet in the bartender’s head.” She stares at me but takes the phone.

I pull out my cigarettes and half listen to Dolly trying to reason with the skinny self-righteous prick. Looking up at the dark sky, I let the nicotine calm me down. The sound of laughter and conversation brings my attention to the parking lot.

A bunch of loud drunks get out of an SUV. But what catches my attention is a couple maybe a few years older than Dolly and me walking by with hands locked and smiles on their faces as they laugh and kiss.

It’s not like this is unusual, seeing happy couples. Maybe it’s because she’s next to me. But a surge of anger, even regret pours out of me. What would that have been like? To have Dolly laughing at me, holding my hand… being happy.

I look down at my dark boots. I’ll never have it. That’s not the kind of man I am anymore. So, wondering what we could have been is pointless.

I take a long inhale of the cancer stick, flick it onto the pavement, and step on it.


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