Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,33

coffee table.

“These events both happened when you were out for long periods of time. Tongue, I love you like a brother, but I can’t ignore the facts.”

“And what facts are those, Reaper?” I reach for my knife and tap the tip on the front of my teeth. “Tell me the facts.”

“I think you found a tongue you really like, and you’re working her up, getting her scared. I’ve seen you do unimaginable things to other people. I won’t let you hurt an innocent girl. No one else cuts tongues.”

“The man left a note too,” Badge says, printing out proof from the computer. “This was just logged in at evidence.”

“Who has she been around?” Reaper asks, shoving the note in my face. “Why are you doing this to her?”

I stab the paper with my knife, then slam it on to the coffee table, locking the damn picture of the note I can’t read in place. “She’s been around me and that guy she works with at the boo-bookstore.” No, I will not lose my composure now. I refuse to be weak. I refuse to be stupid. “I’ve been around her. I’ve been following her. The only crime I’ve committed is stalking, gently, but she knows I’m there.”

“Spoken like a true psychopath,” Mercy mumbles under his breath.

I grab a short three-inch blade that I keep tucked in my boot and let it fly, nicking him across his neck. “She does know I’m there. I don’t give a fuck what you say. I didn’t write this note. I didn’t leave a tongue in her apartment. I didn’t do this, Reaper. Why can’t you believe me?”

“Because of past behavior.”

“You don’t judge Tool every time he whips out his screwdriver. You didn’t judge Poodle for being a serial killer for a minute. You didn’t judge Boomer or Patrick for being a fucking drunk, but you blame me.”

“Reaper, he didn’t do it,” Sarah says. She runs across the room and wraps her arms around my waist.

“Sarah, don’t—”

“He didn’t do it!” she screams at him with tears in her eyes. “He couldn’t have written that note.”

“It’s okay, Sarah.”

“Tongue, it isn’t—”

I wrap my hand around my favorite knife and pull it from the coffee table. I need to be with Daphne, and I can’t do this arguing my case in front of my brothers, the people who were supposed to have my back. “It’s okay, Sarah.” I push her toward Reaper with a good amount of force, then snag Tank from the front door, and stab the knife into his shoulder, with the note clinging to his chest.

He screams, and it sounds so sweet. I bet his blood is sweeter, but this isn’t about my pleasure right now. This is about proving a point. “Is this what you’re expecting from me?”

“Tongue! What are you doing? Get away from him.” Braveheart tries to attack me, launching his leaner body against me, but one shove of my leg and he flies through the air, slamming against the couch.

“Is this better? Is this what you want from me?” I wrap my hand around Tank’s throat, and a sharp cackle escapes me. The darkness is closing in and man, I’ve missed it. “Nothing personal, Tank. I like you. I’m just proving a point.” I rip the knife out of his shoulder, and he falls to his knees. “Or maybe you expect this.” I grip Tank by the back of the nape and tilt his head back, laying the bloody metal against his jugular vein. “Are you expecting me to bathe in his blood? Do you want to know how much I want to?”

“Tongue—” Reaper inches forward, nervous for Tank who is currently nursing a shoulder wound. He’ll be fine.

“Ah, don’t…” I reach into his mouth and pull out his tongue next. “We all know what happens when I get to this beauty.” Tank whimpers. His eyes are wide with fear. I glance down, soaking up the terror like a sponge. He probably sees voids in my eyes, carelessness, and death.

I am all of those things.

But I’m only those things when I absolutely need to be.

I clean my blade against his tongue, letting him swallow his own blood. “Out of everyone in the world to not be on my side, I never thought it would be my brothers.”

“We can get you help.”

“He doesn’t need help!” Sarah screams and stands in front of me, pushing Tank away from me with all her strength. She takes his place. “He can’t read or write, Reaper. It