Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,32

stay safe.”

I throw the knife across the room with a thunderous roar, and it lands next to Patrick’s head. He freezes, not moving a muscle, and stares at the knife.

“If I walk further into the room, am I going to die? Tell me now so I can go in the opposite direction,” he says, holding out his hand when Skirt tries to pass him.

I’m annoyed.

And when I’m annoyed, I tend to kill.

I grab my other knife and go to throw it, but Tool tackles me to the couch and yanks the blade from my hand.

“What did you do, Tongue?” Reaper asks so desperately; his voice is hoarse as if accusing me of this crime is hard for him.

I kick Tool off me and grab his wrist, twisting it to the left, and steal my fucking knife back. “You better watch who the fuck you’re messing with, Tool.” I bite the air, sneering in his face, and he takes a step away as my crazy starts to boil over.

I’ve been wondering where it went.

I need to get to Daphne. I have to make sure she’s okay. How the hell can I get out of here? She’s all alone in that hospital. She has to be afraid.

“Shite, who pissed off Tongue? Ye know better than to do that,” Skirt says just as a pregnant Joanna walks around him to come into the living room, but Doc runs to her, whispering in her ear. She glances at me, then shakes her head before disappearing into the other room. I bet all the ol’ ladies are in there.

I wish that’s where I was. I only ever feel accused when I’m with the guys, but when I’m with the women, they secure me in a blanket of nurturing that I’ve never had before.

“Tongue, what did you do?” Reaper repeats. “I won’t ask again.”

I get up slowly and eye all of them. Mercy and Badge are standing next to one another, and the way all of them are looking at me, they think I did this. They think I’m guilty. They didn’t ask me if I did it. None of them have any doubt on their faces.

Why is Mercy here anyway? Isn’t he some ‘has been’ FBI agent? This isn’t a federal issue. It’s a psycho on the loose.

“We need to know. The police are going to figure it out eventually. What do we need to do,” Reaper states, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Maybe we send him to NOLA? Just until the heat dies down,” Mercy offers, which is bold considering he isn’t even a King.

I lick the knife, letting the dangerous edge prick my tongue, and the metallic taste of blood flows across the taste buds I have left. I need release. The rage is at an all-time high as they talk about me as if I’m not here.

“You think I did this.” I don’t ask. I state. It’s obvious they think I’m capable of going off the edge like this.

“Tongue, who else did it? I don’t know another guy with the same M.O. as you,” Mercy says. “When I heard what happened over the police scanner, I came right over. There has been another case just like it across the lake.”

“You’ve been gone a lot.”

I laugh at Reaper and suck my tongue over my teeth, leaving them bloody for all of them to see.

I might be a crazy fucking bastard, but hurting Daphne is something I’d never do. On my dying breath, if someone told me they could save me if it meant inflicting pain on her, I’d gladly die.

“Wow,” I shake my head at my so-called “family,” and my fingers twitch, itching to cut one of their tongues out for the betrayal I feel. “You guys don’t know me at all. You think I’d hurt a woman? When have I ever wasted a tongue? And why would I hurt Daphne? I need to go check on her.” I slide my knife in my holster and try to walk out the door, but Tank stands in front of me. He’s the only one here as big as me, but he isn’t near as vicious.

“If you don’t get out of my way, I’ll slice your throat from right to left, Tank. No one will keep me from Daphne.” I turn my head and tilt my chin down, lifting my gaze through my lashes. “No one.”

“He’s right. He doesn’t waste the tongues he cuts out,” Slingshot says, lifting his feet and placing them on the