Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,34

wasn’t him because Tongue doesn’t know how to do those things. I believe him.”

The room falls silent, and all eyes are on me.

“Sarah…”

“I’m sorry, Tongue. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t let them think you did it. I know you didn’t. I had to defend you. I know you wouldn’t hurt Daphne. You’ve changed since meeting her. I’ve seen it. You have to be honest.”

“You promised,” I say, broken as I stare at the person who is supposed to be my best friend.

“I know. I know, but now, your name is in the clear—” She reaches for my hand, but I pull away, glaring at her like I don’t even know her.

“His name isn’t clear yet. A few cops know about him. They will come sniffing around,” Badge says. “I can take care of it, though. Going to NOLA wouldn’t be such a bad idea until this all blows over, Tongue.”

Doc is on the floor, examining Tank’s wound. I want to roll my eyes. It isn’t even that bad. A few stitches and he will be as good as new.

“I’m not leaving Daphne, but I’m wondering if I should leave you,” I say the words to all of them and step on the note the killer left Daphne. “For all we know it’s the Groundskeeper, and the first person you think of is me. I might be… I might be…” I stutter again, the scars across my tongue throbbing like they always do when I think I’m about to experience pain. “I’m the monster to you all. I can’t be with people like that again.”

“Tongue, we can talk about this—”

I don’t give Reaper the chance to finish his sentence. I leave all of them behind, Sarah included. I hop on my bike, not bothering to put on my helmet, and I peel out of the parking lot. My comets must be aligned tonight because the gate is open, and I pull back on the throttle to get the fuck out of here.

They have a point. Going to NOLA would be the smart thing to do. I’d leave Daphne behind, and she’d be safe. I’d be with guys who are more like me, and I’d probably feel more accepted. Maybe the killer leaving tongues in Daphne’s home will follow me since I seem to be the issue.

I’ll leave.

I’ll see Daphne one last time. I’ll say goodbye to the woman I couldn’t keep safe because I decided to go home instead of watching her. The only woman who has ever managed to let the man rise from under the blood-soaked killer will be a memory.

After time passes, I’ll wonder if my crazy made her up in my mind, a figment of my imagination. It would make sense dreaming up someone I couldn’t have because I hallucinated them. Actually, that’s probably what happened because what woman in her right mind would touch herself to a monster hiding in the shadows of her home?

Even villains know love, but I’m no villain, am I?

I’m worse.

Maybe me and the Groundskeeper are more alike than I like to think.

He should lay me down six feet under again because that’s right where I belong.

The closer to hell I am, the better off the world will be. The flames will eventually stop burning my soul, and darkness will be there. That’s what’s so great about shadows. They are always there to welcome me home.

I wake with a start, snapping my eyes open when I feel him.

It’s dark outside, and it only makes the shadows darker in the room since the lights aren’t on. I can hear the doctors outside, the roll of a gurney, and the beep of my heart rate monitor. The doctors wanted to keep me overnight for observation because of the concussion I received, smacking my head against the wall.

Of course, the maniac who left a tongue in my apartment didn’t hurt me; I had to go and hurt myself trying to get away.

Holy moly, speaking of my head—it really freaking hurts.

But knowing he’s here is making me feel better.

“You’re here,” I say to the left corner of the room.

He’s quiet, not confirming or denying his presence. He doesn’t have to. Tongue’s presence is enough to wake me up from a coma if I were in one.

Tears prickle my eyes when I think about what I saw in my apartment. I never want to go back there. My home, my sanctuary, it’s ruined. I won’t be able to look at it the same again. “Where were you?