Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,82

says with too much cheer. All of us turn our heads to the happy-go-hungry guy, and the smell of tacos has my stomach grumbling. He jumps down the steps and hands a bag to Sarah. “I got your favorite. I know how much you like the little taquitos with that spicy dip. And Tongue, I got you the macho box of carnitas with extra cilantro.” He points a finger at me and shakes it. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how much cilantro you used. Anyway, I got you ten of them. Thought we could share, like we did on Halloween.” He lifts his arm above his head and scratches his shoulder. “I—uh—I’m sorry.”

I sigh, close my eyes, and roll them so no one can see. I have a feeling every single member is going to apologize to me for what they saw in my journals. It is exactly what I wanted to avoid.

“About Daphne,” Slingshot hurries to explain his apology. “I’m sorry about Daphne. I know how much you like her.”

“Love her.”

“What?” he asks, coming around the side of the bed. Badge and Doc share a look. I know that shared glance. They think I’m crazy because not much time has passed since I met her. A guy like me loving a girl like Daphne, isn’t good, is it?

“I love her,” I correct Slingshot, sounding out each word slowly so they understand me. “Shocker, isn’t it? That a monster like me is so capable of feeling something other than the urge to kill.”

Doc opens his mouth to say something, but he is interrupted by the basement door opening again. Slingshot sits the bag of tacos on the nightstand, then plops down in the recliner beside me. He laces his fingers over his stomach as a stampede of boots clobber down the steps. Reaper, Bullseye, Tool, Knives, and Skirt appear. Skirt has a bruise on the side of his face and a blue bruise decorates his throat from when I nearly choked him to death.

“Skirt—” I begin to start my apology, but he holds up his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I know. I’m sorry Maximo set us up like that.”

“Yeah, he’s officially on my shit list.”

“About time,” Moretti says from the bed all the way at the end. Shit, I didn’t even know he was there.

“You don’t even know anything about him,” Reaper replies to Moretti.

“So. I still don’t like him.”

“I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now.” Reaper grips the end of the bed and his cheek jumps as he tightens his jaw. He rubs a hand over his mouth, walks between the beds, and kisses Sarah on the forehead. “Hey, Doll.”

She hums as her eyes close, relishing in his touch. I should have relished in Daphne more.

“How are you feeling?” he asks her, rubbing his fingers over her cheek.

“Like brand new,” she jokes, which only has me feeling worse.

“Good.” I can tell he doesn’t believe her and that’s when he turns his sights on me.

And damn, they are full of damn fury.

“You up for talking, Tongue?” he asks, sitting on the edge of Sarah’s bed.

The crinkling of paper has everyone turning their head to Slingshot. He is digging into the taco bag, and when he feels a dozen eyes on him he pauses and glances up from peering at the tacos. “I’m hungry,” he says.

“No,” Reaper orders.

“Reaper, I haven’t had any today. I’ve been waiting on Tongue so we can share.”

Reaper rubs his temples and takes a deep breath. “I said no. I’m not dealing with your gassy ass today.”

Slingshot scoffs. “I…I…I took my pill.”

“Yeah, we all know that doesn’t matter,” Bullseye mumbles and Tool elbows him in the gut. “What? It isn’t like we aren’t all thinking it.”

“Okay, focus.” Reaper places his palms together in a steeple position, exhaling. “Please, for the love of all things vile, fucking focus. The lot of you. For five goddamn minutes!” he shouts, his composure breaking. He grabs the lamp and throws it, submerging us in darkness. “Damn it! Someone turn on the light,” he barks.

“Got it,” Tool says, then a few seconds later, we hear a thud. “Shit. Stupid goddamn wall.”

“Any day now, Tool.”

“Got it. I got it, Prez.” Tool flips on the light above and the sudden brightness has me turning my head and holding my hand over my eyes.

“Okay.” Reaper pinches the bridge of his nose and there are footsteps running across the floorboards above. Hearing it makes him smile because it’s the kids running