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Edge stands not five feet away, staring at me. A mixture of pain and anger paints his face. I get it: Edge was the last person I saw before I disappeared. He’s also my best friend besides Blade. Edge has been with the Disciples from birth like Blade and me. We’ve been inseparable our whole lives, but when Blade left to become a SEAL, Edge and I got much closer.
As I look at him, I suck in my cancer stick and let it fill me up. He looks good. More freckles and a tan face, but the blue eyes are the same.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He looks up at the ceiling as if there are some answers as to why I’m so fucked up. “Why? Why now? Things are starting to settle down.” He lights up a cigarette.
“Because it’s time. I’m done running. I’m going to finish what was started.”
He looks around the room. “Blade agreed?”
“He will.”
I stand up. Edge doesn’t look convinced. We stare at each other. I narrow my eyes as I take one last drag then stub it out in the ashtray that already needs to be emptied.
“How’s Dolly, man?”
His face goes from confused to angry. I surmise they aren’t good.
“We’re not together. You missed a lot, David and now you think you can come in and…” He runs his hands up and down his face. “I don’t even know you anymore, man.”
I nod. Torment—that’s what I bring. But it doesn’t matter. I was born into this band of brothers and they’ll let me back. Once a Disciple, always a Disciple.
“I need a shower,” I say.
He’s right. I’m so far from the twenty-one-year-old kid who drank too much and fucked as much pussy as he wanted. The Disciples can make you feel like a god. We’re bad boys. Women will leave everything behind with the hope that one day you’ll put Property of on their back.
That was my life: fucking, drugs, booze, and being the historian. I was the poet, the writer. I documented everything about our club. It was only for us to see and to know. And it all went to shit when Debbie got pregnant.
She thought she had trapped me. The day my daughter was born was the day I decided that for her, I would be a real dad. For her, I would try with Debbie… until I couldn’t deal with her crazy shit: her spying, her paranoid accusations, when all that time, I was being fucking good.
Christ, all I wanted was to be with Charlie. She was the one. But she was young and Debbie was available. So, I figured I’d play around until she was of age. When you play, you pay, and Debbie made sure of that. For my daughter, I did try. For my Tabatha, I wanted to give her the world.
A woman’s moan and loud grunts bring me back to reality. I glance over to see a white bare-ass brother fucking a blonde on the pool table with three other Disciples watching.
“I’m using Mad Dog’s room. Which one is it?”
Edge is rubbing the back of his neck looking at his feet.
“Edge?”
He looks up, his blue eyes lost in his own misery. “Yeah… Fifth door on the right.”
I hesitate, wanting to say something, but there’s nothing left to say. Taking the stairs, I see Ox out of the corner of my eye talking to Dozer and a couple of prospects. None of them acknowledge me.
I don’t give a shit. In my head, everyone is a possible rat. Swinging open the door, I’m met with the strong smell of Pine-Sol. My eyes water in an instant. It’s obvious Amy’s been in here.
Stripping off my filthy pants, I’m disgusted—should have asked Edge if I could borrow a pair of his. The bathroom is spotless with dark tile and fresh towels laid out.
I don’t need much; this room is perfect. I could stay at Reed’s compound in Malibu if I wanted luxury. But this is where I need to be. As I step into the shower, I let my mind drift to the upcoming meeting. Everyone had better get on board. Reaching for some shampoo, I close my eyes and lather up, going over all the possibilities.
The FBI is the least of my worries on this one. Why would they blow up the lab?
Now the Russians are a possibility—they always want more. But they typically don’t fuck with us. We’re as mean as they are, or meaner, so why rock the boat?
That leaves rival gangs. Unfortunately, there are a lot on the West Coast. Christ, the Disciples MC has grown even with the mess that happened last year. The hot water pelts down as I try not to focus on the idea that there might be a rat. I lift my head to the pulsating spray and close my eyes. And there she is, all puffy red lips and golden cat eyes, head thrown back in ecstasy. My cock hardens.
