Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,40

feel any better. I can’t remember a damn thing.”

“It doesn’t make me feel better,” I say honestly.

“You’re an asshole.”

I sling my knife around before sliding it into my back pocket. “So I’ve heard.” Heat lightning flashes across the sky. The small clouds rolling in might bring rain, but I doubt it. We don’t get much of that around here.

Walking away, my boots slide against the desert floor, kicking rocks and broken beer bottles.

“I’m fine; thanks for asking,” Moretti yells behind me.

My hand grabs the rail of the porch, and I turn to look over my shoulder. “I didn’t ask,” I state, not understanding why people are so damn sensitive about themselves. The steps creak as I pound up them. I stare at the door, wondering what I’m going to do when I enter. I don’t have much time to think about it because the door swings open, and a crying Sarah appears.

Now this is where I become sensitive. Leaving her will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, behind leaving Daphne. Sarah’s hair is up on top of her head, wrapped up in one of those messy buns. A few pieces of blonde frame her face, and her brown eyes are dipped in honey right now because of those tears. The tip of her nose is pink, and her bottom lip is swollen from where she chews on it while she cries.

“Tongue! Where have you been? You left. You can’t leave like that again. Please, you can’t leave.”

“Sarah…” Maizey’s sweet, high-pitched voice comes from beside Sarah. Maizey wraps her arms around Sarah’s leg, then presses her cheek against Sarah’s thigh. “Hi, Tongue. How are you?”

“I’m okay,” I say, squatting to meet her big brown eyes. “You’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”

“I’m a big girl,” she says proudly.

“Yeah, you are. You’ll be wielding your knife in no time,” I tell her.

She grins, her front tooth missing as her eyes widen. She starts to bounce with excitement. “Really? Can you make it for me?”

“That’s up to Sarah,” I say, standing to my full height.

“Maybe when you’re a little older.” Sarah sniffles, rubbing her cheeks on her shoulders. She opens the door wider, and I make my way in. There aren’t any cut-sluts here right now. Ever since Candy and Jasmine died, they’ve been too scared to come around. I’m alright with it. I think cut-sluts are a damn drain.

Well, there is Becks. She hasn’t been around in a while because she’s off at some massage retreat. I miss her. She’s good at really getting in the muscle and working out the knots. I hope she’s back before Christmas. I’m making her a knife.

There isn’t anyone here as I walk through the living room. The TV is off. The dogs are on the couches. Yeti is snuggled up next to Lady. Tyrant is on his back, balls out, and Chaos has his nose buried in Tyrant’s ass. Whatever floats their boats. I don’t think I’d like the smell of ass.

Well, maybe if it was Daphne’s ass…

I hear voices coming from the kitchen and keep my feet light, so I don’t make a sound. I give Sarah one last look as she sits on the couch with Maizey. I stop in the hallway and step into one of the corners, so I can listen in like I always do. I take my knife out again and rub my fingers against the silver. My eyes land on the kitchen table where most of the guys are. They all seem to be looking at something, but from here, I can’t tell what they are looking at.

“What are we going to do?” Poodle asks, flipping another page.

“Aye, my god, Reaper, this is horrible.” Skirt leans back in his chair, and he has his daughter strapped to his chest. “My God, how does he function?”

I bend my head forward to listen to them, curious at who they’re talking about.

“If this was his life, it’s no wonder he can’t read or write. We have to help him, Reaper.” Tool tosses a book on the table and reaches to his left and grabs another.

“His drawings are in amazing detail. I had no idea he was so talented,” Patrick states, hissing when he flips to a certain page.

It takes me a few moments to catch on when I realize the books they are looking at and the person they are talking about is me. I watch as they stare at my life’s horrors, judging