I should stop. I can feel that this is going to a place that should not be explored tonight.
I should close my eyes, lean my head back, and let the warm water soothe us. Heal us.
I should, but I don’t because my head is already spinning with the dirty truths that need to be said.
“What’s wrong with family friendly?”
She sighs again and caresses my chest. “Nothing, if you have kids and a dog.” She smiles. Her big brown eyes have mascara smudged under them giving her an exotic doll appearance.
“And?” It’s not friendly. I’m not friendly. If anything I’m ready to shake her until she says what I need to hear.
She sits up and turns. “We don’t have kids or a dog,” she snips back. My body is tight as I slowly rise, causing her to slide back and stare at me.
“Edge?” Her voice sounds a little shaky.
“We don’t have anything yet.” I step out and grab a towel as she reaches for the soap. Her eyes narrow.
“I work. You’re gone a lot, so as much as I would love a dog, it’s not really fair. You have to hire a dog walke—”
“Kids. Dolly, what about kids? Not a fucking dog.” I rub the snowy white towel on my face then toss it away as I watch her hands stop rolling the soap around.
She looks over at me. Our eyes connect and I see everything but still need to hear it.
“Are you serious?” She cocks her head. “That has to be some sad attempt at a joke.”
I lean my hands on both sides of the tub. “No joke. I’m not saying I want to knock you up now. What I am saying is we’re thirty-one years old. It’s time to get shit right.”
She blinks at me, then laughs, and I reach for my heart. Dolly does these quirky things when she gets nervous. But today, her laughter is like a bullet straight to my heart.
She stops as she sees my face then nails the coffin shut. “You’re a criminal. Part of a club that does things no child needs to grow up with. And for you to even suggest it… with the way we grew up.” She stands, her hands flying around to grab a towel to cover herself up. Her lips are swollen red from all my love, all the passion I gave her tonight.
I put my heart in her hands and now she’s ripped it out.
I turn, not trusting myself to say anything. Some things this painful need to be kept inside. I don’t need her anymore.
I don’t need her self-loathing to poison me—and her—anymore. We’re worlds apart. I pull on my slacks as she screams, “Where are you going? Always leaving, never staying. That’s you, Edge. You don’t even like kids.” She tears out of the bathroom as I pull on my shoes.
“It’s over,” I say. All color drains from her face, and I walk out the door.
DOLLY
Thirty-one years old
He did not walk out that door, did he? “You motherfucker,” I scream at the empty suite. My hands are shaking, and my legs wobble making it hard to stand. My clit is still throbbing and my ass is tingling and that piece of shit says we’re done? I look around and see his black bag in the corner.
“I don’t think so, Edge Daniels. Not this time. You will not break me and walk away.” Tossing my towel aside, I unzip it. Why am I covering up? I’m the only one here.
“Me, me, me,” I chant. My tears start to fall, and as I kneel, his addictive cinnamon smell fills my senses. Covering my face with my hands, my whole body shakes as the tears I try to hold back heave out of me.
“Why? Because you know we shouldn’t have kids?” I scream into the empty darkness of the room, with nothing but the blinking lights of Vegas to keep me company. That and the small click of the air conditioner turning on. Dropping my hands, I have trouble seeing, my eyes are so filled with tears. But if I search long enough, I will find it. He never goes anywhere without it.
Pushing aside his black clothes, I feel around at the bottom. It has to be here. He wouldn’t keep it in his suit, would he?
Spinning around, I see his black suit jacket by the door. He’d barely brought us through it before his fucking cock was fucking me against the wall. I crawl over. Standing seems too much energy considering the state I’m in.
Grabbing the suit jacket, I lean back and go through the inside of his pockets. Sure enough, it’s there.
His knife.
It gleams, almost sparkles as I open it up. The lights that are so happy and inviting outside almost bounce off the tip.
I promised him no more knives. But he promised me forever and now he’s said we’re over. I feel no guilt.
This time, I do stand, almost like the power of the knife has given me the energy to do what needs to be done.
“I’m done crying for you, Edge Daniels.” I pick up his jeans and fucking start stabbing them. Sitting up, I grab a T-shirt and slice it in half. One after another, I stab and slice until the sweat rolls down my neck and stomach. Grasping for the end table, I use it to help me up and reach for the light.
“How did he do this to me?” I stare at my hands. They’re beet red and swollen. I open one and close it, the ache so bad it’s almost as if I’ve been using a punching bag.
“I need alcohol.” I rub under my eyes to stop the tears from falling and turn to the large bar. Champagne sits in the silver bucket of ice.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I trip over his clothes wondering where I left his stupid knife—a knife he never uses because he prefers his fucking guns. “Just like my father,” I mumble as I make my way to the bar.
And then I start laughing. It’s official: I’m full-on going to snap.
He’s finally done it.
Or maybe I’ve finally done it. Let’s be honest—it’s the sparkling gold bottle of Cristal that did it. It sits waiting, almost calling for me to notice it.
Slowly I pick it up, turning it so that I can read the name. Louis Roederer Cristal Brut. I hold it up so that I can admire the pretty gold bottle.
“She’s so fucking stupid, I bet she doesn’t even realize she spelled her name wrong.”
Not that I know for sure that Crystal isn’t her real name, but it makes me feel better to think she’s stupid and tried to name herself after an expensive bottle of champagne but spelled it wrong.
“Because she’s biker trash!” I scream and throw the bottle at the wall. It explodes. Fizzes and shatters all over. Hundreds of tiny gold shards of glass roll toward me like an ocean of champagne. I don’t move yet watch to see if it will make its way to my red toenails. It doesn’t, though. It stops feet away, the fizzing sound my only company.
I need food, but I seem to be frozen, locked into this space. My phone vibrates, and I snap out of it. Running to the couch, I grab it out of my bag.
“Hello.”
“Congratulations! You have been one of the lucky few who has…” A fucking robocall? And I’m so crazy I answered it thinking it’s him. I hang up. Not even considering what I’m doing, I start calling him. Of course, I hear his suit jacket ringing.
Covering my mouth, I try to steady my heart. This is all a crazy misunderstanding brought on from lack of food and way too much alcohol.
I pull my knees up to my chest and rock back and forth wondering what all this means.
“I’m fucked.” I exhale. He might truly not get over this.
“He’ll come back and we’ll work it out.” My eyes fill with tears. I’m reduced to whispering to myself like an old mad witch.
I need to get help. I need to talk to him, but he left me.
My eyes are so blurry it’s hard to see as I push on Doug’s number and sniff back my runny nose enough to talk.
“Not even you can fuck up your wedding night.” Doug’s sleepy voice fills my heart and I start to cry.
“Baby Doll. Not right now. I’m not doing this with you. Whatever happened, you need to make it right with Edge.”
“But…” I stop because—is that a male voice in the background?
“Are you not alone?” I whisper. Holy shit it is. I can hear a muffled male voice saying, “
Roll over.”
“Oh my God. Is that Robert?” I choke it out.
“Go to sleep,” Doug says. “You’re drunk. I’ll be by in the morning.” And then he’s gone. My Doug has hung up on me and I didn’t even get to tell him what happened.
I lie down on the silky couch and watch the door. I should get up to go to bed. But I need to be here when he comes back. He has to eventually—he needs his clothes.
I’ll simply wait and watch the door.
Something’s vibrating under my arm and it won’t stop. “Stop,” I growl, then sit up, trying to steady myself as the room spins a little.
“Shit.” I stand up and look for my phone. It was under my arm, so it has to be somewhere. I slide my hand in between the cushions, and there it is.
“Hello… Edge?” I don’t even care that I sound desperate and out of breath.
“Um no. Eve.” And then silence. “Are you okay?”
I almost feel guilty. I know she loves me, but she also loves Edge. Telling her we couldn’t make it through one night of marriage might make her sad.
“I… I said something that I didn’t think was bad and yet he did.” Sitting back down, I shiver, only then noticing I’m naked and it’s a bright sunny day. The sky is blue, the clouds are white, and yet I feel like I’m eighty instead of thirty-one.
“Oh no, Dolly. Why? Listen, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“I told him I don’t want kids. I told him it’s because of how fucked up our childhoods were because we were raised in the club. And that he’s a criminal.” I literally just vomited a little in my mouth after saying that sober.
Silence. “Eve? Are you still there?”
She clears her throat. “Why would you say that? Jesus, why Dolly? And by the way, I have two kids,” she snaps.
“I’m a horrible person. Sorry.” My voice cracks as I look around for some water.
“Listen. You need to eat shit. On an exciting note”—her voice gets all happy—“I have news. I’ve been calling both you and Doug for an hour.” I stand and grab a water that I’m sure they charge seven dollars a bottle for, but I desperately need it.
“I need to find him. I have to do something.” I start to guzzle the most delicious-tasting water ever. Throwing the bottle on the floor, I take in the disastrous state of our room. With a groan, I notice the broken Cristal bottle.
“Shit.” I rub my forehead as my eyes dart to his clothes. Or what’s left of them.
“Dolly.” I jump and almost drop the phone.
“Sorry, I’m here.” I sink down at the bottom of the bed.
“I said Charlie had her baby.” Her voice bubbles with excitement.
“Wait, what?”
“Yes. Early this morning, her water broke. They had to do a C-section, but she’s doing amazing.”
“Holy shit.” My head is reeling. “What kind of baby?”
“What? Hold on.” I hear her ordering two Grande Pikes.
“I’m back. What do you mean what kind of baby? The human kind,” she snaps at me, then says thank you to who I assume is the Starbucks barista.
“Get over here and pull yourself together. And for God’s sake, don’t say anything… crazy.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
Before I can ask what hospital, she’s gone. My eyes can’t help but stray back over to his shredded, stabbed clothes.
“What have I done? Even my best friend thinks I’m insane.” My mind doesn’t want to go to the place I’ve blocked out.
“Where the fuck is he?” And where did he spend the night?
My phone vibrates and I look down, knowing it won’t be from him. Something changed last night. I couldn’t grasp it in my intoxicated state. But my truths seemed to do something to him.
I can’t accept him. And I guess he feels the same. We’ve moved miles apart when we used to be the closest. Even with all the pain and shit we’ve had to go through, I always felt that we were still Edge and Dolly.
“I don’t know how to get him back,” I whisper. My whole body sags with exhaustion, as if I have the weight of the world on me.
I’ve been in love with him my whole life and now… well, now I’m reduced to wondering where he slept and that I’ve shredded his clothes.
Looking down at my phone, it’s a text from Eve.
Eve: Here’s the address to the hospital. Edge and Axel just walked in.
EDGE
Thirty-one years old
I have no idea what time it is. Fucking Vegas. Time doesn’t matter here. I know it’s been hours since I left her. I know this because my heart still burns even with the massive amount of cocaine and alcohol I’ve consumed.
I left her. We’re over. I need to move on because this kind of pain, well, I can’t live with this kind of pain. My mind spins to David for a moment and all the tragedies he went through. I was always sympathetic, always tried to be there for him. But having this kind of pain with Dolly has to be nothing like losing a child. I don’t know if I would have the strength to go on.
“Hey Marty.” I motion to the bartender. Marty looks over from the end of the bar and nods.
The man is amazing. He’s got to be in his seventies, smokes two packs a day. I’ve never seen him without an alcoholic beverage in his hand. Fucking fantastic.
“You two ready for another?” He smiles at me, his weathered skin looking the same as it did years ago. Marty is an old friend of my dad’s. He owns a dive bar in downtown Vegas. It’s been a Disciples hangout from the day he opened it forty years ago. The snap of the pool table and laughter make me focus on him.
“Yeah.” I turn to the blonde who has decided to try to get me to fuck her. It’s dark in here, so I can’t see what she looks like, but a wet hole is a wet hole.
I lean forward to gage her age, but again, with the smoke and bad lighting, even the ugliest can be beautiful. Doesn’t matter. My cock’s not digging her. It seems to have betrayed me tonight.
She leans in close to whisper something. It’s loud as fuck in here, so I motion that I can’t hear. She yells, “I live down the street if you need a place to crash,” causing three Disciples to turn and look at us, including Axel who raises a dark brow and turns back to the stripper who’s rubbing her tits on him.
I grin at them. It’s pathetic that I sit here in my dress slacks, black dress shoes that I got married in, and my cut.
Christ, all I wanna do is pass out. Maybe then I’ll stop hearing her words and seeing her face. I inhale and close my eyes. After I left her in the suite, I came here knowing that I would find Axel. I need him right now since I can’t be trusted to make good decisions.
“Can I have one?” The blonde’s words make me open my eyes. Considering my cigarette has burned out, I wonder if I might have fallen asleep for a moment.
I nod yes. Glancing around me, it’s clear the place has thinned out, and I can now see that it looks the same. Walls covered in pictures of Harleys and old-time bikers. Bar signs that blink with dead lights. The old jukebox still filled with heavy metal eighties crap.
Marty decided long ago he’d rather pay the fines than own a bar where you can’t drink and smoke. I fucking love Vegas.
I look over her shoulder at Axel, wondering if we have any more cocaine.
“I need to take a piss,” I mumble to the blonde.
“Can I help?” she purrs and smiles. Her teeth are yellow.
“No.” I pull myself off the barstool and stumble a little toward Axel. “Tell me we’re not out.”
He looks over at me, and then like the dick he is, he turns and says, “No more.” Like he’s my father or some kind of big brother, he dismisses me and jerks the dark-haired stripper’s head back to kiss her.
“Asshole,” I say as I stumble back to my barstool.
“Hey, I thought you had to drain your weasel?” The blonde moves in closer and giggles.
“What? Whatever,” I say, looking up at Marty as he sets down two more shots of Wild Tur
key.
“You okay?” His old eyes show concern as they dart from me to her. For a second, I almost beg him to help me… save me from myself. Instead, I take the shot, not even looking at the blonde.
“I couldn’t be better. I have…” It dawns on my fucked-up brain that I have forgotten the blonde’s name again.
“What’s your name again, baby?” It feels like I swallowed a shot of acid instead of Wild Turkey. It burns my tongue.
“Barbie.” She laughs like I’m so hilarious. If anything, she should be insulted. “That’s the fourth time I’ve told you, silly.”
I almost grab her hair and tell her it doesn’t matter how many times she tells me. I’ll never hear anything but one name for as long as I live. Because I. Don’t. Care.
“Hey,” Axel yells at me. He must see I’m getting ready to go off and now decides to step in. Whatever. I feel like fucking punching him. I’ll lay him out because if I don’t…
“You need to go back to the hotel.” His stupid pretty boy face swims before me as I start to laugh.
“Fuck you, Axel,” I snarl into my beer. It’s got to be almost closing time, but I remember I’m in Vegas—is there even a closing time? The music is still going and the lights aren’t on, so I guess I should have another round, take the fucking blonde up on her offer, and fuck her.
I’ll do the one thing that will finally be the ruin of us.
Why the fuck not? Fuck another slut. Do what she thinks I do every single day.
It’s sad, almost tragic—I could fuck a hundred women and they would mean nothing. In her mind though, it means everything. In her mind that would be it.
She’s never gotten over the Crystal thing and I was a fucking kid. I wanted to give her everything, literally everything, and she won’t even try. Can’t even see what she’s throwing away.
All she can do is keep ripping my heart out. Why did she even marry me? She doesn’t want anything that I want. She’s like a chameleon—always changing to make the person she’s around like her.
All but me. I see her. And she reaches in and takes my very soul and rips it out.
Repent (The Disciples Book 3) Page 23
