Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,31
whisper. I keep my secret to myself, hoping I didn’t sign my death warrant by trusting a man I hardly know.
I shouldn’t have spoken to her, but I couldn’t help it. She looked so pretty. So mine. I got tired of being so far away. I wanted to be close for once. Just one time. When our fingers grazed, fuck, I could live off the feeling it gave me for the rest of my life.
How can I stay away from her when I think she was born for me?
She’s mine.
She’s coded into the DNA in my blood; she’s a part of who I am.
Daphne doesn’t hold the missing piece of me. She is the missing piece.
I crave her.
I’m dying to be whole because being half a man is killing me.
Reaper wanted me to talk to Mercy last night, but on the way out of my room, I turned right down the hall, pretending I needed to go the bathroom, and hightailed it out the door. I hopped on my hog and snuck into her apartment to watch her sleep.
It’s my favorite thing to do. I love watching her chest rise and fall. I even sat on the bed, and she turned against me. It’s like she could feel me there and needed to be close to me. When she left for work, I had to follow. I wasn’t ready to be away from her for the day, but I had to come face the heat at the clubhouse.
Reaper is going to be pissed at me for leaving like I did. After I get my punishment, I plan on going back to watching Daphne. She’s consumed my mind. She’s an obsession that grows by the day. I can’t even remember the last time I thought about a knife.
The bike grumbles beneath me, and I stroke the tongue whipping out of its mouth. I close my eyes and remember what it’s like to cut, to hear people scream, to feel their blood. I miss it. I miss my swamp kitties. I miss my knives.
Maybe it’s time I let Daphne go. She deserves more than me anyway. She loves books for fuck’s sake, and I can’t even read.
How pathetic is that? What am I thinking?
The front door opens, and Reaper is standing there with his arms crossed, a look on his face that can only mean I’m in deep fucking shit.
Whatever.
I’m not afraid of pain. I’ve had worse. Anything Reaper does to me won’t compare to what I’ve already been through. I swing my leg over my hog and shut it off. I open my saddlebags and grab the books Daphne touched at the bookstore. I plan on taking all of them one day; every single one that has been lucky enough to touch her fingertips are going to be in a bookcase that I’ll make her.
I climb the steps to the clubhouse, and Reaper doesn’t move from the middle of the doorway. “Please tell me you weren’t with Daphne, Tongue. Tell me you were doing what you love to do, and you mailed tongues to the fucking gators in NOLA.”
“Is he back?” Mercy bellows from the inside of the house. “He needs to get in here now.”
“What the fuck is going on, Reaper?”
He yanks me inside by the cut and slams the door.
“What did you do, Tongue?” Badge asks me as he types on his computer, frantic.
“What are you talking about? I haven’t done a thing,” I say slowly, sitting on the couch in front of the club as they surround me. I don’t like this. I reach into my pocket and grab my knife, rubbing my fingers up and down the sharp blade. It calms me, but it doesn’t change that I’m being backed into a corner.
Reaper points the remote at the TV and turns the sound on.
“This is Marsha Collins with LV Local News reporting what seems to be a disturbing stalker in our area. Earlier this evening, a young woman entered her apartment to find blood on the walls of her home, along with a tongue nailed to the window. That’s right, a tongue. As of right now, there are no witnesses. The young lady who lives in this apartment building is at the hospital seeking medical treatment after falling down the steps. Anyone with any information regarding this matter, please contact the Vegas Police Department. I promise to keep you informed as more information is made available. This is Marsha Collins with LV Local News; stay ahead and