Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,81
but they are sandbags, heavy and full of grit.
“Daphne.”
His face comes to view after he flips on the lamp and even though he has pretty boy looks, his back is carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey. We all have our fucking demons, and some are worse than others. A disappointed and dreadful line appears on either side of his lips. “I’m sorry, we haven’t found her yet.”
The heartrate monitor beeps quicker as my worst nightmare takes hold of my body. I turn my head to the right so Doc can’t see the glassy mirage in my eyes, but then I see Sarah in the bed next to me. She’s awake, staring at me with a kind smile.
“Sarah.” Her name is broken on my tongue. A tear drips onto my cheek and this time, I understand my emotion. I’m thankful she’s okay, and I’m scared out of my mind that Daphne is not. “I’m so glad to see you alive.”
“Ah,” she waves her hand dismissively. “It’s going to take more than a knife wound in the stomach to bring me down.” Sarah chuckles, then lays her hand over her stomach from the pain.
“I thought you were my Uncle,” I admit. “The guys they found…”
“I know,” she cuts me off and reaches her hand across the space between us. With my good arm, I meet her hand with mine and hold onto it. She frowns, and her lip trembles as she begins to cry. “I don’t blame you. I’m so sorry, Tongue. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” She studies my chest, no doubt trying to see the burn scars under the tattoos.
“Stop saying that. You knew before everyone. It isn’t your fault.”
“I’m still sorry,” she says. “And I’m sorry about Daphne. Is she—”
“—She’s mine, Sarah. Mine. She’s everything. I need her. I need to find her.”
“We will find her. Reaper won’t let her be away from you.”
I hope not, but I know punishment is still in my future from Reaper for what I did to Sarah. I’ll never forgive myself. If Reaper decides for Daphne to be away from me, I’d have to leave the club because Daphne is what I need to survive.
Surviving used to be as easy as breathing, but now it isn’t so simple. There’s more to it than that. It’s emotion. The damn thing I used to want to ignore because it can blind you. It isn’t so bad though, fighting while blind because the heart leads you to what you need to do. I’ve been fighting all my life to breathe, but I haven’t been fighting all my life to live.
Daphne has taught me the difference.
“Tongue,” Doc says my name with a heavy burden as he sits down in the chair next to me. “We need to talk about your arm.”
“I don’t care about my arm.” I yank the needle from the top of my hand and then pull the wires off my chest. “I need to find Daphne, and I can’t do that from this damn room. It feels more like a graveyard than a hospital with all the traffic that’s been through here. Sorry, Doc.”
“No, I get it, but you can’t leave.”
“You aren’t going to stop me,” I reply, getting more pissed off by the minute.
“Nope,” Badge stops at the bottom of the steps and twirls handcuffs in the air. “But I can.”
“And I can make sure you can’t feel your entire body.” Doc moves too fast for me to notice and presses something sharp against my neck. “This sedative will knock you out for days, Tongue. Do not test me.”
Badge whistles as he struts over to my side of the bed and instead of cuffing my hands like a normal person, he slings the metal over the left ankle and traps me against the bed. “What? I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to go anywhere,” he defends himself as Doc and me both stare at him in discontent.
“I didn’t want him to feel trapped,” Doc explains, dropping the needle from my neck.
“Well, he brought it upon himself,” Badge states, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “You know we can’t trust him to stay.”
“I’m not a fucking dog,” I yank against the cuff attached to the bed, a brief, quick reminder that I’m more like a dog now than I ever have been before. I’m fucking chained. I might as well sleep outside in the fucking mud and be useless because that’s how I feel.