Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,29
stop it.” She giggles to someone.
I grin. She’s always been the life of the party. “Traveling sounds like it’s going well.” While Aunt Tina lives here in Vegas, she isn’t here half the year. She’s always traveling. Years ago, her daughter died a few hours after she was born, and Aunt Tina has never been the same. She doesn’t like to stay in one place. She’s always on the move. I think when she stands still long enough, she remembers holding her daughter for the first and only time.
I don’t blame her for not wanting to be here. If that had happened to me, I’m sure I’d be moving all over the country too, flirting with men I don’t know, and drinking yummy fruity drinks. She can afford it too. Apparently, the hospital was negligent and caused her baby to die. She was born a healthy, crying baby, but that’s all I know. Details of her past are not something Aunt Tina discusses with me.
Aunt Tina sued the holy moly out of that hospital and got millions. It’s part of the reason why I can work at a bookstore and afford this apartment. She makes sure I’m okay. She doesn’t want me to live my life working; she wants me to truly live, but I’m only twenty-five. I have no idea how to live like she wants me to, so I work. I like working. I barely ever have to dip into the funds she left me. I’m thinking of going back to school too, and the little egg she left will help with that.
I have plenty of time to figure it out. If life keeps going the way it’s going, I’m going to be an old cat lady by the time I’m thirty.
And I’m allergic.
“It’s fun. I miss you. I think I might come home for a few weeks. I’d love to see you.”
“Really? I miss you too. I want to talk to you about … someone I met.”
“Oh my god!” she squeals, and then she grunts. “No, you get away. Fucking asshole.” I hear a splash, and then she mutters, “What a waste of good tequila.” The phone rustles, and the noise in the background fades. “Is it about a boy?”
I roll my eyes when I hear her smile. “It’s about a man; thank you very much,” I say, finally climbing up the steps. I unfold the piece of paper and think about Tongue and the way he makes me feel.
It’s hard to explain, but it’s that feeling you get when you’re standing at the edge of a really high cliff, looking down at the lake or ocean, contemplating if you should jump. It’s safe. All your friends have done it, but it’s your turn. You’re excited, scared, nervous, and nearly shaking because even though there is water at the bottom, the cliff is still high.
He’s the butterflies in my stomach and the water beneath me, but he won’t let me jump into him.
And I’m bound to the cliff with the feeling gnawing at my stomach. It’s torture.
He’s torture.
And I like it.
It’s a weird, sick, foreplay, and it kind of turns me on.
This is why I can’t do normal.
Tongue’s weirdness calls to mine.
“Oh, what’s he like? What’s he do? I bet he’s a sexy mechanic or something, isn’t he?”
Or something.
“We just met. We’re taking things slow. Super slow. No, sloth slow. In fact, Aunt Tina, I don’t even know his real name, and we haven’t had a conversation that is longer than one minute.”
“Oh, life is too short for slow. Go fast, sweetie. Fast is fun.”
“Your fast is too fast, Aunt Tina,” I chuckle, placing my shoulder against my phone to hold it so I can open my apartment door.
Only to find it already open.
“Aunt Tina, I’ll call you back,” I say slowly.
“What? No! Tell me about this guy—” But the phone goes dead when it hits the floor with a hard thud, and then cracks spider across the screen. Bending down, I pick it up off the floor and swipe across the screen to get to my keypad to dial 911.
I drop the receipt on the floor to get my hand free when I notice writing on it. It isn’t an old receipt. It’s a piece of paper.
I open the last fold and gag when I see what it says:
Roses are red,
Dead lips are blue,
Stay away from him,
Or next it will be you.
I hold a hand over my mouth, stifling a sob, and dial 911.