Lethal Read online Cassandra Robbins (The Disciples #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Disciples Series by Cassandra Robbins
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Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
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“She’s pregnant. I’ve emailed you names of a couple of incredible ob-gyns. I’m at the hospital. I have to go.”

“Thanks, Hilary.”

“Your old man would be over the moon to be a grandfather. Congratulations.”

“Too bad us McCormick men can’t seem to live to be older than fifty, huh?” I say and hang up. Hilary got with my old man when… shit I don’t even think she was seventeen. He put her through school and even paid for her to become a surgeon. She always held out hope that he would one day do what he promised her and leave my mom. She’s a good doctor and has stitched me and my boys up more times than I care to admit. I pay her a shit ton of money and she does what my dad spent a fortune on getting her trained to do. Other than that, I get sick of her thinking because she fucked my old man for years she’s like a second mom and shit. I have my mom, and she’s not perfect, but I think she is. So I tend to only use Hilary when absolutely needed. Today I wanted a female, since I needed Eve to feel comfortable.

The doorbell rings and I toss my cigarette in an ashtray, making a mental note to order some more outdoor furniture. The grass and view are peaceful. Eve will like it.

I pay for the pizza and wings and seriously consider bringing in the bottle of whiskey I was drinking from. Instead I stand outside my own bedroom door hands full of food, wondering how best to deal with my life.

“Fuck it.” I throw open the door. She sits on the edge of the bed. She’s changed from the dress to gray jeans with holes in the knees and a tight white T-shirt that says Groovy across her tits. And she’s frantically typing on her phone. Other than her fingers gliding over the phone like a pianist, she seems calm, which of course puts me on alert. I look around.

“I need furniture,” I say.

I have no choice but to put the pizza on my bed—it’s either that or the floor. She crosses her legs and gives me her back.

What the fuck? A half an hour ago she was weeping and now she acts like I’m beneath her, not even acknowledging me. My neck clenches and I roll it hearing it crack.

“Eat,” I demand. She still types, but this time she looks at me. Her eyes are puffy but her cheeks are pink and her lips are dark red. She’s so beautiful for a moment I hope we have a girl: a little girl who looks like her mommy.

“I’m assuming I can get a second opinion?” She snaps and stands. My eyes dip to her chest—her tits are nothing short of amazing.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be seeing the best tomorrow morning.” I flip open up the box of pizza. The aroma of sausage and pepperoni permeates the room.

“You need to eat.” I pull out a piece of gooey pizza. She stares at me then turns and looks out the window.

“Eve, it wasn’t an invitation. You will eat.” Chewing the spicy sausage and pepperoni, I use my pants as a napkin. She stares at me as if I’m the disappointment in her life, which I should not care about. Instead I swallow my mouthful and say, “Fine. Don’t eat. I guess I can call—”

“Stop.” She holds her hands over her ears. “I can’t handle you torturing me about my father. Or that I trapped you,” she screams in my face, her voice trembling as she holds back the tears that want to spill down her flushed cheeks. Jesus Christ, she’s like a fierce little lion cub and my dick instantly gets hard.

“Eve.” I rub my chest almost as if I’m trying to block my heart from her. “I need you to be honest. It’s done. You won, Angel. I’m going to support you and your father forever, okay?”

She stares at me then bites her bottom lip as she looks at the ceiling. “You honestly think I wanted to trap you?” The accusation in her eyes makes me lose it.

“I don’t give a fuck,” I yell. “Christ, it was bound to happen sometime.” Her face pales and it’s like I can’t help hurting her since for some reason her lack of joy, or not doing what I want, makes me angry. I shrug. “I’m sure this one won’t be my last accident.”

She looks like I’ve slapped her, and I guess I have. That was a shit thing to say since I don’t want anyone but her. Jesus, I have no control around her.

I need to get away from her. She stands tall, her shoulders back, but the pain my words inflicted makes me want to grab her and kiss away all our demons.


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