do was insert it.”
It isn’t long before my body feels numb. I hadn’t realized how much pain I was in until now. I can’t imagine how people with burns all over their body feel. It makes my heart go out to Moretti, even if he did turn his back on us and kidnap his brother.
“Can you hold me?” I ask him, not wanting him to go too far. I know I sound needy, but I just need to feel him surround me right now.
He strokes my cheek with his knuckles. “Like I could ever say no. I’m going to shower. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” I slur a bit from the pain meds kicking in.
The mattress dips from the loss of his weight. He takes off his pants on his way to the bathroom and saliva pools in my mouth with I see that bubbled butt.
I want to bite it.
Grrr.
I giggle to myself.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Thinking ‘bout that booty.” I hold out my hands and pretend to grab.
He chuckles, but somehow doesn’t manage to smile. “You’re cute when you’re high.”
“You’re cute,” I retort. “Take that.” I lift my nose in the air, proud of my witty comeback.
There it is.
That once-in-a-lifetime smile.
I could die happily right now knowing it’s the last thing I ever see.
The hiss of the shower lulls me into a light sleep. I’m in the veil between awake and asleep, and it is the kind of fog that’s wildly addicting. There are no thoughts, no fears, no panic, there’s nothing because the only thing that matters is sleep. Nothing. Else.
I don’t know how long I lie in the in-between, but the bed dips again and Tongue is there. His scent has my eyes opening, and his arm across my waist has me falling into a fog of safety instead. His skin is pink from the hot water and his wet hair tickles my shoulder as he puts his chin in the crook.
“Knock, knock.”
Tongue is up and out of bed with a knife in his hand in a matter of two seconds. The door opens and Tongue throws the blade through the air, barely missing the man’s head. It lands with a hard thump in the wall and Mercy ducks out of the way.
“Oh, it’s you.” Tongue sounds less than thrilled.
He snags the knife from the wall and when he turns around, I focus on the sweatpants he is wearing. They are gray, hanging low on his hips, and leave nothing to the imagination.
“It’s just me,” Mercy says. “I heard what happened, Daphne. Are you okay?”
“I’m great,” I say, scratching the tip of my nose. “How are you?”
“Um, well, I have a lot to tell you.”
“I want to know what you’re doing here,” Tongue interrupts him. He grabs the whetstone for his blade and wastes no time grinding the metal against stone.
“Reaper said I could find you here when I knocked on the clubhouse door. I came with those answers after doing some research. I figured you’d want to know, Daphne.” Mercy takes a step forward, then stops. His hand is bandaged from the other day, but he seems to be doing fine.
“Well, you could have knocked on our door.”
“I did, you didn’t answer, and I got worried,” Mercy says.
“Why? You don’t even know me,” I say, lifting my good arm in the air to make a point. “I just remind you of my mom. How did you know her?”
“May I?” Mercy asks Tongue as he eyes the spot at the edge of mattress to take a seat.
Tongue nods. “Any fasts movements and I’ll kill you.”
“No doubt about that,” Mercy says.
The bed dips again, but Mercy weighs less so the motion isn’t so significant. “What do you want to know first?” he asks me.
Even through my high goggles, I can tell he hasn’t slept. His beard isn’t combed, and his hair isn’t styled. His eyes are tinged red, like he has been crying. “Did you love my mom?” I ask.
He smiles as if he is remembering her fondly. “She was my first love. Look.” He digs into his back pocket, pulls out a black wallet, unfolds it, and slides out a square picture. “That’s us. She was eighteen and I was twenty. I was about to go join the Navy, an idea she loved and hated. We had been friends for years, but it was only that summer we realized our friendship was more than that. It was love.”
I’m careful with the photograph as I hold it. The edges