Skirt (Ruthless Kings MC #5) - K.L. Savage Page 0,30
my reality sweet at last.
“Dawn,” he repeats my name, and I love how it sounds with his accent. Skirt lays his forehead against mine, and my breath catches from his lips being so close. The blood doesn’t even bother me. “Lips, we need to talk about Aidan.”
Hope springs to my chest, and I pull away, but I keep my hand on his pec and feel the wild heartbeat beneath my palm. “You found him!” I say with glee, but when disappointment fills his eyes, the creases between his eyes furrowing, dread falls into the pit of my stomach. I yank my hand away, missing Skirt’s heat when my hand turns cold. “Please, tell me you found him, Skirt. Please,” I beg as tears fill my eyes. My hands cup my mouth the longer he stays quiet.
His silence speaks volumes, and it’s deafening.
“No!” I scream at the top of my lungs and double over. “No, please,” I sob so hard I gag. I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. The world tilts, and nothing makes sense. Aidan has to be with Cohen. He has to be. I don’t know where else my boy could be. Every ounce of strength I’ve had to fight to survive Cohen drains from my body, and my knees give out from under me.
“I got ye, Lips.” Skirt catches me, wrapping me in the safety of his arms, the strength he uses to fight.
I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. I don’t care. My heart is breaking. No one knows how this feels. It’s like my heart is being ripped out of my chest and stomped on. My hands dig into Skirt’s arms, and I lay my cheek on his chest, inhaling the musky scent of his skin. It’s oddly relaxing, but it isn’t enough to stop the onslaught of tears.
“You can’t find him,” I mumble with moist lips against his chest, the salty liquid from my tears spilling onto my tongue.
“No, they can’t find Cohen either,” he replies, rubbing his hand down the spine of my back. His chin settles on top of my head as I cry. We’re standing there, in the middle of the doorway, a dozen eyes on us, and he doesn’t care. He lets me hash out the pain.
I untangle myself out of his arms and step away from him. I look over his shoulder to see Reaper staring at me, pity in his eyes, and I cock my head at him, then point my finger. “I thought you said you’d find my son. You didn’t. All of you are the same!” I shout. “Just more men making promises you can’t keep. I’ll find him myself. I’ll find my son. He’s probably not even at the top of your priority list. You probably need to go find some drugs or whatever the fuck an MC does; maybe just sit around and get your cocks sucked,” I spit and shove a finger into Skirt’s chest.
“No man has ever held up a promise to me.” I take another step away and bolt to the front door. I have no idea where I’m going, but my path will lead me somewhere. Aidan needs me. I have to think about Cohen, the steps he takes, the places he goes. I have to think like a lying, conniving snake.
It’s the only way I’ll ever be able to find Aidan.
As I open the door and let the sun in, a pair of arms wrap around me, stopping me from leaving. I see the familiar devil on the top of the hand, and I know it’s Skirt. I kick and scream, punch and shout, “Let me go! Let me fucking go!” I wiggle, putting as much force as I can into my body, bowing my back, but Skirt’s hold is too tight.
“Ye aren’t going anywhere all pissed off. Ye won’t get anything done that way.” His mouth is against my ear, and he whispers, “Calm down, Lips. I swear, I’ll find ye son if that’s the last thing I ever do on this earth, but ye got to give me a chance.”
My body sags against him, the fight once again draining me from as I fall limp in his arms. Suddenly, I’m swung in the air, and Skirt holds my head against his chest, blocking my eyes from everyone staring at me as I silently weep into his chest. I feel like such a burden. My soul is heavy. Without Aidan, I don’t think I’ll ever