Shift (The Disciples' Daughters #2) by Drew Elyse Read Free Book Online Page A

Emmy away, but he didn’t understand why, and I couldn’t explain that to him.
    With a great sigh, he came to me and pulled me into his arms.
    “You’re here now. We’ll take care of you both,” he said.
    He was right; we were here now.
    How was I going to leave all this behind again?

It hadn’t been dark long when I pulled up to the farmhouse. I’d meant to keep riding, but it was fucking pointless. Being on the road was doing nothing to clear my head the way it usually did. Every thought was at that damn house, imagining the girl who had torn herself from my life almost five years ago jamming herself back in like a knife into an open wound.
    I was so preoccupied, I nearly bit it on a curve I hadn’t noticed coming up. I took it too fast and nearly became a bad paint job on the side of a minivan in the other lane. That was about the time I realized I was in no fucking frame of mind to be on my bike.
    My plan had been to just go to the clubhouse and crash there, but I scrapped that. It didn’t matter if I hid out at the clubhouse for the foreseeable future; I was going to see her at some point. God only knew how long she was going to be around. Avoidance wasn’t a long-term plan. I was counting on the anger I already had boiling over when I saw her. Maybe then I could move the fuck on.
    Yeah, I was going to be the eternal damn optimist.
    The walk to the front door required a whole lot of one-foot-in-front-of-the-other encouragement. It made me want to offer my left hand for a smoke. I’d cut the cigarettes out after I lost my uncle. The nicotine addiction wasn’t what killed Gunner, but they found the lung cancer in the hospital when he died. If it hadn’t been the accident, it would have been the cancer before too long. Talk about a come to Jesus moment. Even if he’d avoided the drunk asshole behind the wheel of his cage, he would still be gone now. I threw my last pack in the hospital trash and went cold turkey. Never picked up another smoke. I thought I’d totally kicked the cravings too until that moment.
    I beelined right for the kitchen to grab something of the liquid variety to take the edge off. As long as none of the assholes in the house drank it, I had a bottle of Lagavulin ready to do the job.
    As I got close, I heard Roadrunner’s voice. When I turned the corner, I could make out what he was saying.
    “—didn’t even have a bed, for fuck’s sake. Just slept on the fucking couch for Christ knows how long.”
    Stone stood beside him looking tense, which said a lot for that somber fucker.
    “What’s up?” I asked, already locating the scotch I was looking for in the cabinet.
    “Ash is here,” Pres replied as I grabbed the bottle.
    Before anyone could take that topic anywhere, I said, “Right. I’m out.”
    I took barely two steps before Roadrunner spoke to my back. “You have to deal with this shit eventually.”
    The truth in that statement—a truth I did not need illuminated since it had been fucking dogging me since Stone told me she was coming back here—pissed me off.
    “I wanted to deal with this shit,” I reminded him. “I wanted to deal with it over four fucking years ago.”
    “Sketch,” Stone called as I continued my retreat.
    “What?” I was seriously fucking done with this shit.
    “Church. Tomorrow. Gotta have a sit down about the situation with those fuckin’ threats.”
    Right. Good. As long as he wasn’t going to start—
    “And watch yourself with that girl,” he continued. “I know you’re pissed, brother, but I don’t get the impression shit’s been easy for her.”
    What hadn’t been easy for her?
    The concern came bubbling up first, but I pushed it back. Maybe shit hadn’t been a cakewalk for her, maybe she’d had to work hard to get by, but it didn’t matter. That was her fucking choice. She could have stayed. I’d have done anything to make her stay. She could’ve been here with me the whole fucking time and not one thing would have had to