The Disciples: A Dark Romance Collection

by Sweet, Izzy

  I swear this is just an exercise in futility. He just doesn’t get it. How can he when he’s a psycho? But I push on.

  “You… you… you tricked me into helping you kill people!” I finally blurt out while hot tears start to sting my eyes.

  Goddammit, I hate that I feel like this. Hate that I’m on the verge of crying over this. I’m not fucking weak, and never thought something like this would bother me, but it does.

  It’s one thing to imagine killing someone, especially someone who deserves it. Someone who’s hurt me.

  It’s another thing being deceived into helping someone kill a group of strangers.

  Gabriel reels back from me as if I just slapped him in the face. “You held a gun to my chest and pulled the trigger…’

  “Yes!” I snap at him, not denying it.

  He’d be dead if there was a bullet left in the chamber.

  “You held a knife to my heart and threatened to cut off my balls…”

  “I did,” I agree, blinking my eyes to fight back the tears.

  Gabriel shakes his head slowly, his confused gaze never leaving my face. “You’re sending me mixed signals here, babe. Have you never killed anyone before?”

  “No!” I snap out and then suck in a deep breath.

  I’ve never killed anyone before. There’s never been a reason to. As a woman in my family, I was sheltered, protected while the men did all the dirty work. The risk, the danger, never touched me until my mom was killed in that car explosion.

  Gabriel’s eyes soften, filling with sympathy, and I instantly can’t stand it. I don’t need him feeling sorry for me over this.

  Stiffening my spine, I explain, “All those things I did, I did them in self-defense. It wasn’t cold-blooded murder.”

  There’s a difference, a huge fucking difference. One is done for self-preservation.

  And one stains the soul.

  “There was nothing cold-blooded about it…” Gabriel says defensively, the softness fading from his eyes as he pushes back into me.

  I shake my head and look away.

  Grabbing me by the hair, he tugs, forcing me to look up at him. “This is war.”

  I almost laugh. So that’s his excuse? That’s his reasoning? The route he’s going to take to make me feel less guilty about this?

  “War is full of atrocities,” I counter. “It’s full of sick, powerful men who use it as an excuse to get off… to fulfill their depraved fantasies.”

  Gabriel’s blonde brows begin to inch toward his hairline and his lips twitch with amusement. “I don’t need war to get off when I have you.”

  I open my mouth to tell him he doesn’t have me, but he tugs on my hair, stopping me.

  “This is kill or be killed,” he practically croons.

  I snap my mouth shut and stare up at him.

  “And I’ll kill every motherfucker on this planet to protect you. The streets will run red until I know you’re safe.”

  I know he probably meant that statement to be reassuring, but honestly it’s rather terrifying. I search his face, search his eyes, for any sign that he’s joking, but he looks completely serious.

  My skin prickles with goosebumps and a chill travels down my spine.

  “How does blowing up that restaurant and killing innocent people protect me?” I ask, hoping to push him more towards reason.

  He doesn’t even blink before he states gruffly, “Not a bastard in there was innocent.”

  “Yeah, but how do you know? How you can be sure?”

  Both brows pulling down, he practically growls as he pushes his hips into me. “Because I know, Meghan.”

  That answer just isn’t good enough for me. I need proof. I need something, anything, to relieve my conscience.

  “Did you look them up beforehand? Was that entire thing planned?” I continue to push.

  Gabriel makes a frustrated noise. He’s pressed so close, I can feel almost every muscle in his body tightening with tension.

  Grabbing me by the face, he stares hard into my eyes as he says, “You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

  Trust him? How can I trust him when he didn’t even let me in on what he was doing in the first place?

  I open my mouth to tell him just that when he cuts me off. “If you don’t, we’re dead men walking.”

  That brings me up a little short.

  I blink up at him. “What do you mean?”

  His lashes lower and his eyes pierce through me like two sharp shards of ice. “It’s them or us, Meghan.”

  Them or us… a familiar excuse I’ve heard my father give for his decisions. His whole reason for going after the Italians and starting the feud in the first place. A feud that took my mother’s life.

  All of a sudden Callum’s face flashes through my mind, followed by all the dead men in the church. My father… my father was shot. I don’t even know how injured he was. He could be dead for all I know.

  I start trembling as the reality of what happened yesterday washes over me. So much has happened to me since the wedding that I haven’t really had time to think about it. To process it.

  Scowling, Gabriel drops his hands from my cheeks and reaches down, gathering me up in his arms and pulling me close. I stiffen at first, not wanting his comfort, but I’m so cold all of a sudden, and he’s so warm.

  I’m drowning… sinking… and the only thing I can grab onto is the fucking shark in the bloody waters.

  His hands travel over me, tender, soothing.

  Too fucking tender and soothing for a man so willing to commit murder.

  “I don’t want anyone else to die,” I admit softly.

  Especially in a fiery inferno…

  I shudder, unable to repress the memory of what happened to my mother… what probably happened to those people in the restaurant.

  Gabriel releases a huff of air that whispers across the top of my head and gives me a tight squeeze before he pulls back.

  Eyes finding my eyes again, he looks almost regretful as he asks, “Not even Alexei?”

  I suck in a breath and just stare at him, the truth of that question slamming into me.

  Fuck.

  I do want Alexei to die, and it probably makes me the biggest fucking hypocrite in the world.

  I try to look away, try to hide the truth inside me, the bit of shame I’m feeling, but his gaze traps mine, holding me captive.

  “People are going to die, Meghan. A lot of people are going to die before this is over with, but I’m doing my damnedest to make sure it’s not us.”

  I stare at him, my own personal battle raging inside of me. Part of me still wants to rebel at all of this. To refuse to accept it because it’s morally wrong.

  If this were a book or movie, we’d find some way to take out the bad guys without anyone else getting hurt.

  But this isn’t a book or movie… this is my fucking life we’re dealing with here.

  “Fuck…” Gabriel suddenly groans and leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. “You’re so fucking sweet and innocent.”

  Instantly I try to scoff. Me? Sweet and innocent? I’ve been accused of a lot of things in my life, but never those two words, especially together.

  His voice drops to a growl. “Don’t try to argue with me on this. You are.”

  I roll my eyes and his grip tightens on me.

  “You are,” he insists. “You’re fucking pure compared to me. And if there was any way I could spare you from all this shit, if there was a safe cage I could lock you in to protect you, I would.”

  Bristling at the thought of him locking me in a cage, I narrow my eyes at him. “Just try it…”

  Gabriel chuckles, and before I can completely comprehend what’s happening, his head dips down and his mouth covers mine.

  He forces a kiss from my lips. Pulling and sucking with determination until I finally stop fighting and start to give in. “And that’s exactly why I need you. I need you by my side, Meghan.”

  He kisses
me again as I struggle not to completely melt in his arms. His teeth find my bottom lip, tugging and pulling at me, but the nip is rather gentle.

  “I need you with me on this,” he groans.

  Another kiss is pressed to my lips, so hard my head starts to tip back. I grab at him, holding on so I don’t fall over.

  His mouth continues to ravish mine until I’m breathless and I’m dizzy. Until I’m struggling to remember why I’m upset with him.

  Pressing me up against the truck, he fits himself between my thighs and drives his tongue into me like he’s fucking me with it. Reminding me of what his cock did to me last night.

  Reminding me of his devotion and commitment to this unholy union.

  When he finally tears his mouth away from mine, it’s like it takes every bit of strength in his body to do so.

  “I need you to put your faith in me, Meghan. Put your faith in me and stand by my side while I do what I’ve been put on this planet to do.”

  My chest rising and falling as I pant for air, my voice sounds breathy as I ask, “What were you put on this planet to do?”

  No shame, no anger, no remorse crosses his face as he answers without hesitation, “Kill.”

  14

  Meghan

  I should be running away, screaming. I know I should be running away and screaming, yet my feet won’t move.

  I stare at Gabriel as he looks at me expectantly. He probably wants me to say something. Give him some kind of reassurance or promise that I’ll stick with him.

  Words fail me though.

  I’ve never been more confused or conflicted.

  After that kiss, my body throbs with the need to press closer to him, while my head just wants to float far, far away from this mess.

  Thankfully, I’m saved by the sudden and jarring ringing of his phone.

  He tries to ignore it, his gaze burning into me, his eyes demanding.

  And I know if he kisses me again, I’ll give in. I’ll make promises my soul can’t keep.

  I’ll doom myself to damnation.

  The phone rings and rings until falling silent, only to start back up again.

  I squirm under Gabriel’s stare as it grows more and more intense before I point out, “You should probably answer that.”

  He lets the phone ring again until it falls silent. It’s not until it starts back up again that he makes a move to answer it. Cursing under his breath, he digs the phone out of his pocket.

  “Yeah?” he snaps in irritation as he places the phone against his ear.

  I can’t hear the person on the other end of the line, but whatever they say causes Gabriel’s face to tighten with anger.

  “No shit,” he mutters and pushes away from me. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”

  His head starts to whip around, his eyes searching as if he’s looking for someone watching us.

  He grunts a few times in what I’m assuming is an answer to the other person, then he hangs up the phone. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he reaches up and rakes his fingers through his short hair.

  “Creepy fucker,” he grumbles, then his eyes land on me again.

  Sharper than daggers.

  Before I can ask who, he’s dropping his hand and telling me to, “Get in the truck.”

  Hesitating, I ask, “What’s going on?”

  “Too much heat,’ he answers and steps into me. Grabbing me by the hand, he uses it to tug me around the other side of the truck. “We need to head back to the house and lay low for a while.”

  I dig in my heels as he swings the passenger door open and resist his nudge to get inside. “Are we going to get busted?”

  He looks at me for a moment and then his mouth curves into a slow smirk. “Nah. Simon is just being paranoid.”

  He gives me another nudge and I decide I’ve wasted enough time. I’m not entirely sure I believe him about the us getting busted part, but standing around and asking questions isn’t going to prevent it.

  Once I climb into my seat, he makes sure I do up my seatbelt before shutting the door. Then he stomps around the front of the truck and slides into the driver’s seat.

  The drive back to the house is quiet and tense.

  Gabriel keeps shooting little glances at me and I feel his need for a commitment from me hanging like a sword over my head.

  I wish I could alleviate his worry. I wish I could alleviate this ball of tension growing inside me.

  But I can’t.

  I’m so torn up and confused, I don’t even know where to begin. I’m stuck in this awful mental place, trapped somewhere between an existential dilemma and a crisis of conscience.

  After our little heart to heart last night, I thought the worst was over. I thought we were on the same fucking page.

  The two of us against the world.

  I made the decision to trust him to protect me. To trust him not to hurt me.

  But he ruined that illusion, blew the fucker up when he blew up the restaurant.

  As bad as it is, part of me wishes I never witnessed it. Wishes that he did it without me around. Because now I’m back to square fucking one.

  Things I could overlook, that I could forgive, like mowing down those gathered for my wedding in the church, are weighing heavily on me now.

  Was I simply letting them go because all those men wronged me? Because I didn’t actually see him kill anybody? Or did I do it because it was simply in my best interest?

  Fuck… I don’t even know….

  I don’t even know what I believe in anymore.

  Turning my gaze to the window, I look out but I’m not really seeing anything. It’s bright and sunny, but everything is gray. As gray as a fucking graveyard. Before today, the last time I visited a graveyard was to pay respects to my mother.

  Fuck… my mother.

  That hole her loss left inside me throbs and aches. More than anything I wish she was alive. I’d give anything to talk to her, to touch her, to smell her, even if it was only for a few seconds.

  She would know what to do. What decision I should make so I can live with myself after this.

  Despite being married to my father, she was gifted with seeing the world in black and white. Seeing right from wrong.

  My father and her used to joke about her being my father’s angel on his shoulder.

  She kept my father in line, kept him human… up until the feud with the Italians.

  The car begins to slow down, and it takes me a moment to realize we’re pulling into the garage.

  Great. We’re here and I still haven’t figured anything out yet.

  Gabriel inches the truck forward before throwing it in park and shutting off the engine. He hits a button and the garage door rolls down behind us.

  I don’t even have to look over to know his attention is riveted on me. I can feel it bearing down on me, the pressure of it nearly crushing me into my seat.

  Afraid I might crack, I undo my seatbelt and grab the door handle. I push my door open and hop out before Gabriel can stop me.

  A second after my feet hit the ground, I hear his door pop open.

  “Meghan…” he says, his voice deep with a hint of warning.

  Rushing up to the door that leads inside the house, I say over my shoulder, “I’m not trying to run. I just need some space, Gabriel… some time to think...”

  I take the two steps leading up to the door in one step and grab the handle.

  My fingers twist, and nothing happens.

  Of course the damn thing is locked and I don’t have a key.

  It’s the fucking story of my life.

  Groaning, I lean my forehead against the door, fighting the urge to bang my head against it.

  It seems no matter how hard I try to be in control of my own destiny, the universe itself will step in to stop me.

  I’m fucking cursed to be at the mercy of men.

  Gabriel’s door slams shut behind me and I jump in surprise, rattled by the loud noise. Heart pounding in my throat, slowly I spi
n around to face him.

  All it takes is one look to know he’s not going to give me the space I’m asking for.

  Stalking forward, he moves with the sinister grace of a natural born predator that knows he’s at the top of the food chain. Unlike most of the big men I’ve come across during my short life, there’s no clumsiness or overcompensation in his movements.

  No, he’s a man that’s completely comfortable in his skin. He probably even relishes the advantage it gives him.

  “Gabriel, please…” I can’t help but plead one last time. “I just need a little time.”

  Eyes nearly white-hot with heat, they land on my face and I shrink back.

  “There’s no time, Meghan,” he says with a finality that causes my heart to instantly drop to my stomach. “I’ve already wasted ten years of my life. I won’t waste another second because your fear is holding you back.”

  He steps up to me and for once we’re nearly eye to eye.

  “I’m not afraid,” I bluff, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

  “Don’t lie to me, beautiful,” he growls and reaches out, grabbing me roughly and pulling me close. His knuckles brush tenderly down my cheek. “It’s not a good look on you.”

  He wants the truth? Fuck it. I won’t lie.

  Fighting my body’s need to give into a shiver, I tell him exactly what I told him last night, but seriously mean it this time. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  In fact, I’m pretty sure I can’t.

  I watch his emotions blow across his eyes like storm clouds rolling in. Anger flashes like lightning across clouds of determination.

  Instinctively sensing the impending danger, I try to squirm my way out of his grip.

  “Fine,” he grits out between his teeth, his hold on me tightening. “I’ll do it for the both of us.”

  Before I can ask what the fuck he means by that, he’s picking me up off my feet and throwing me over his shoulder.

  “What the hell, Gabriel?” I huff out as my stomach meets his shoulder.

  “Stay still, I don’t want to drop you,” he growls and gives my butt a hard smack.

  I stiffen in surprise, the pain radiating through my cheeks.

  Did he really just spank me?