Tongue (RUTHLESS KINGS MC™ (A RUTHLESS UNDERWORLD NOVEL) Book 8)

by K. L. Savage

  “No.” She sighs as if she’s thinking of a daydream. “Everything was perfect.”

  I walk over to her and pull the blanket down her body. Bruises are everywhere, and there are two shallow wounds on either thigh. Fuck, she looks beautiful dressed up in my marks, but if she’s in pain, if it’s too much, I need to know. Being gentle is a touch I’ve never known, but I do want to learn how to do it. She’ll need to be patient with me. “Are you sure?” I ask her, tilting her chin up to meet my stare. “I’m willing to learn how to be different.”

  “I don’t want you to be different, Tongue. I want you. This morning was more than I could have ever imagine, and seeing you in the sunlight during the day, I’m happy. I’m happy you aren’t a dream.”

  “If I was, I’d find a way to escape your mind and be real for you.” I mean it. I don’t believe anything could ever keep me away from her, not even something like fantasy and reality.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here, and now that I see that horrible haircut, we need to fix it before we get married. Unless, you don’t want to, which I get; last night was so intense that I know—” I shove a finger over her mouth to silence her.

  She’s cute when she babbles. Her tongue doesn’t stop. Usually I find it annoying, when someone talks so much, but not Daphne. I want to listen to her speak forever.

  “I’m not the kind of man who jokes, not intentionally anyway. People laugh at things I say or do, but I never play. I’m marrying you.”

  “You realize how crazy that is, right? People aren’t going to be happy.”

  “It’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck about people, and if they piss me off, I’ll just—”

  “Kill them,” she finishes my sentence for me, and I grin.

  I take her chin in my hand and press a kiss to her lips. “You’re learning quick, Comet.”

  “Why do you call me that?” She blinks up at me, curiosity singeing the blue irises.

  “Sarah read to me one night, about comets and how rare they are. I’ve never seen one, but then I saw you through the window of the bookstore, and I knew for sure comets existed.”

  “You know what a comet is, right?” she questions, a frown of concern between her brows.

  “Yeah, I know. Some comets burn for hundreds of years, and that’s how I felt when I met you; like I could burn for you for the rest of time.”

  “That would make you my comet.” Her fingers dance up my chest and tap my chin.

  “We can be each other’s comets.”

  She has no idea how true it is.

  “I like the sound of that.” She wraps her arms around my waist, and another piece of me falls, shattering onto the floor. The old me is being replaced by someone new.

  New-ish. She’s teaching me how to love; she isn’t taking away the bloodthirsty killer.

  “So where are we getting married?”

  “Elvis,” I state. Vegas is the easiest place to get married in. I don’t care where or who marries us as long as it is legal, and she has my last name.

  “You’re funny.” She giggles.

  “I’m not kidding.” Why do people think I joke all the time? I don’t understand.

  “Oh… Oh! You’re serious. Okay, can we make sure the impersonator is a good Elvis? I don’t care about cheesy, but a bad Elvis is disrespectful to the true king.”

  “Anything my Comet wants, she gets.”

  She slides on her pants, and a black envelope falls out of the pocket. I bend over to pick it up, and the matte material feels good under my fingers. Daphne tries to take it away from me, but I open it and pull out the card, keeping it higher than she can reach.

  I try to read the simple sentence, but I can’t. “This is from him?” I ball up the card and throw it onto the ground. I’m seething. My breathing is quick and the urge to cut, to kill, is strong.

  “It says, ‘I’m always watching you.’ I’ll make sure to teach you how to read and write. You don’t ever have to worry about that again. Not as long as you have me.’”

  I’m not mad that she caught me struggling. She doesn’t seem to care about my hindrances. She wants to help me with them. She isn’t trying to figure out why I can’t; she just

  gets it.

  I bend down to pick up the card and unfold it. The crinkles ruin the gold letters, and I stare at the sentence to see what it looks like. I can see why she thinks it is from me.

  This has to be The Groundskeeper. He didn’t kill me on Halloween, so he’s pissed off and trying to make sure he does, indefinitely.

  That man has been nothing but a pain in the ass since he set his sights on the Ruthless Kings.

  I’m going to chop him up into little fucking bits and feed him to my swamp kitties. I’ll personally drive him to NOLA and feed his body parts to the gators.

  My phone rings, and I crumble the card up again, then shove it in my mouth and chew it. I’ll be damn if this bastard gets the upper hand on me. Again. The card crunches, and the paper becomes soft. I swallow it. Letting his warning note settle in the pit of my belly, feeding the beast inside me, fueling my blood to kill.

  I snatch my phone off the dresser and slide the green button to the left to answer. “Hello?” I grunt.

  “Tongue?” Sarah’s voice whispers sleepily through the phone.

  I lose my balance and fall to the bed. “Sarah.” I hold my hand over my heart. My soul is so relieved that it hurts. “You’re okay.” My voice breaks when the emotion chokes my throat. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” I begin to rock back and forth, and Daphne crawls onto the bed behind me, wrapping her arms around my chest to comfort me.

  I never knew touch could feel so good and make me feel so complete, but with every stroke of her hands along my shoulders, every glide of her lips along my neck, her hard nipples teasing the curve of my spine, I realize being in the light isn’t a bad thing.

  It’s darkness that has swallowed me whole, and now I’m making the climb to get out. Her sun feels good shining against my face, and I know if I keep climbing, eventually she’ll engulf me.

  I’ve already lost myself in Daphne, but it’s the good kind of lost. I want to wander around and learn new things about her. I want to go on a journey and hope life can show me how good it’s really supposed to be.

  “It’s okay. I don’t blame you.” Sarah’s voice is hoarse, and I can hear the pain I’ve caused.

  “You should blame me.”

  “Reaper doesn’t know I’m calling,” she admits, keeping her voice quiet. “I love you, okay? Don’t come back yet. Let me wear Reaper down. He’s pretty pissed.” She grunts, and I hear someone mutter something in the background. It isn’t Reaper, but I’m sure they are warning her to hurry up, so she doesn’t get caught talking to me.

  “I love you too. I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself.” The image of the knife piercing her stomach is something I’ll never be able to forget.

  “Nonsense. You have to,” she slurs with sleep. “Forgiveness is the only way to achieve happiness, Tongue.”

  “Okay, come on,” Doc’s voice interrupts our

  conversation, and the static on the other end deafens me. “Tongue, she’s fine. We can’t be caught talking to you. Reaper has forbidden it. Stay safe, man.”

  I’ve always been the outsider. I’ve always liked isolation.

  But it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like I don’t have a home, and the dial tone reminds me of how alone I am.

  Daphne skims her hands down my arms reminds me that while I don’t have my usual family, I have her.

  I have no one to talk about my newfound happiness with. Everyone has turned their backs on me, and rightfully so.

  “What do you need?” she asks the right question, one that has me thinking about my darkest desires. She’s scratching the itch inside me. Her fingers trace along every burn, and I shut my eyes, relishing in the touch I’ve never had.

  I need to cut a tongue out, but I don’t know where to go for that. I don’t know
where The Groundskeeper is. I don’t know how to go about finding him. There isn’t an abundance of a threat like there was with the attack on the club. I got to cut so many tongues out. It was such a good day. My swamp kitties were well-fed because of that.

  My phone rings again, and I almost throw it across the room, but the wizard emoji pops up, and my brows shoot to my forehead. It’s Seer.

  I ignore it. I’m not in the mood for anything out of this world right now.

  “You aren’t going to get that?” Daphne asks.

  “No. I’m too tired to care what he has to say.” The phone stops ringing only for it to start chiming again. I sigh, seeing the wizard emoji once more. I ignore it. NOLA is probably expecting me to come there. I bet Reaper called them. I’m wondering if my patch is about to get ripped off, or I’m about to get traded. Damn it, that would really fucking suck.

  The phone falls silent, and it lights up again, ringing. Annoyed, I answer it and snap, “What?”

  “Nice of you to finally answer.”

  “Been busy, Seer.”

  “So I’ve seen.”

  Great. He probably knows everything about me now. How the hell do secrets get out in the open so damn quick? “What do you want?”

  “I saw a note this morning while having coffee.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I clutch the phone so tight that the cheap plastic cracks from the force. “And?” I push when he doesn’t fucking say anything. “What the hell did it say?”

  “The roses are red. Did they find their way to you? You didn’t stay away from him. Your lips will turn blue.” Seer recites the note from memory.

  My heart stutters, and I reach up to lay my hand on top of Daphne’s. “Did you see anything else?”

  “An old building, brick, falling apart. He wrote it in blood. Listen, I got to go. I saw what will happen. I’m sorry. I was going to stay away from you Ruthless Kings, Mon Amie, but I can’t deny a vision when I see one. Sarah will be okay. I’ve seen that too. Everything will be fine, Wayne. You’ll see. I can tell you’re on the fence about coming here, so your indecision doesn’t let me know if I’ll see you or not. If I see anything else, you’ll be the first I’ll call.” The dial tone has me wishing he didn’t hang up. He knew my name. No one knows my name besides Daphne.

  “Who was that?” Daphne asks, rubbing her hands down my chest, petting me to calm the beast.

  “Seer. A member of the Ruthless Kings down in NOLA. He has visions sometimes. He warned me about a note he saw about you over his morning fucking coffee.”

  Her hands stop rubbing my shoulders, and I immediately miss it. I don’t know what’s happened to me, but the man I am with her? The man who suddenly loves touch, the man who wants to please her, the man who wants to focus on something other than vengeance? I like this man.

  I know I have my issues, alright? I’m far from fucking perfect. Happiness used to be something wished for, something that happens to people, who aren’t me. The emotion was earned, sought out, and bought most of the time because it sure as hell isn’t what makes the world go ‘round.

  Being with Daphne makes me realize it isn’t about happiness but finding the person you want to search for happiness with. I can have that with her. Everyone blinks at me when they realize how fucked up I am, but Daphne doesn’t. She embraces it. My crazy Comet wants to experience it with me.

  Would she want to torture someone with me? How far would she go to know what it’s like to be with me for a day? Would she get her hands bloody? Would she want to fuck in a pool of someone else’s blood?

  See, I think about those things. My deepest, darkest desires, my secrets.

  In the middle of my soul’s séance, the universe answered, and she gave me Daphne.

  “What do you want to do?” Daphne moves off the bed and stands in front of me. My eyes lock on her breasts, small with a slight curve. “I’m not strong enough to fight him, Tongue. I’m … I fell down the damn steps when I saw the…” She gags and holds her stomach.

  I chuckle. She’s cute.

  “Tongues freak you out, huh?” I tease, then wink. She blushes and bites her lip. “After what happened last night, I didn’t think it would bother you.”

  She scoffs, then points at me. “Cut me some slack. I’ve never seen one before. Out of a mouth, that is.”

  “You don’t like it?” Dread swirls in the pits of my stomach.

  “I … I don’t know,” she says, perplexed. “I mean, seeing it was shocking, and it scared me, but if I ever came across the person who did it…”

  I lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees, “Yes?”

  “I’d want to scare them the way they scared me.” Her blue eyes meet mine swirling with newfound obscurity, and another chamber locked in my soul opens for her, swinging wide open like a door. That’s all I need to know.

  “Get dressed, Comet.” I stand, and my cock points at her, hard and aching for her wet cunt to wrap around me.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t think I forgot binding you to me. It’s happening. Today. Now. I’m not waiting for another moment.”

  “I don’t even know your last name,” she sasses, throwing her hands on her hips.

  “Hendrix. You’ll be Daphne Hendrix,” I moan and reach down to squeeze my cock. “That sounds so fucking sexy.” I bet I could come if I chanted her new name.

  “Middle name?” she asks, her voice husky with arousal.

  “Don’t have one.”

  “Birthday?”

  “Don’t know,” I say, gliding my hands up the curves of her hips. “You?”

  “Ellen. June 6th. You really don’t know your birthday?”

  “I know I’m probably too old for you, but I don’t give a fuck about that. Favorite color?”

  “Purple.” She straddles my lap and rocks her wet cunt against me. “You?”

  “Blood.” I tilt my head back when she kisses along my neck and slides her pussy down on me, and then she jumps off, leaving my cock wet and shining with her juices. I snap my eyes open and watch her giggle as she slips on her panties. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I thought we were going to go get married. But first, you need to feed me. We missed breakfast and lunch. We can’t do either of those things if we get distracted—again.”

  “I like distractions,” I growl, “but you’re right. The next time I take you, it will be as my wife. And then we will go to NOLA, away from here to keep you safe.” I bend down and grab the black jeans off the floor and slip them on. I’m careful tucking my cock in so the zipper doesn’t catch. Bending over, the knife glimmers one last time before I pick it up and turn around, showing her the blood on the blade.

  I show her our combined fluids that have dried along the knife and lick it, flattening my tongue along the body. God, we taste good. It’s better than whiskey after a long day. She shrugs a simple summer dress over her shoulders and grabs a green cardigan. I love how different we are. She’s all bright and shiny while I’m dark and stormy. She saunters up to me and wraps her hand around mine, pulling the knife to her face.

  Holding my breath, I wait to see if she’s about to do what I think she’s about to do. Her pretty pink tongue laps across the metal, tinting her taste buds a beautiful shade of aphrodisiac red.

  We aren’t ever going to leave this room, which is a problem, because I need her to be bound to me. I want her to get an ol’ lady tattoo, right over her heart.

  It isn’t only her body that’s the Property of Tongue—it’s her soul too.

  I’ll get one, but instead, I’ll have her carve her name into my skin, and it will be the only scar that has ever mattered.

  She smirks at me, then grabs a pill bottle off the nightstand to put in her purse. I don’t

  want her to take medication. I want her to be herself. Her mind isn’t broken. It’s beautiful, and I want to see every nook and cranny of it.

  In her despair, in her confusion, I’ll be there.
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  And I’ll be everything she needs.

  Even if it means letting go of my own insanity.

  “So where are we going?” I ask Tongue, holding his hand as we walk down the Vegas strip after eating an early dinner.

  “I know a guy,” he states, stopping in front of a club.

  “Here?”

  “No. The club owns this.” He stares at it from across the street longingly. It takes a strong man to admit he’s afraid to go home.

  The windows are blacked out and the sign is neon green flashing “Kings’ Club.” There’s a crown hanging off the K, and I can hear a beautiful voice pouring out the door singing Janice Joplin.

  “You want to go inside?”

  “Can’t. When Reaper says I’m not allowed at the clubhouse, he means here too.” Tongue rubs the spot over his heart, looking confused at the pain he feels. “Come on, let’s go,” he takes my hand and drags me down the sidewalk without a parting glance at the club.

  I look over my shoulder at the line that is spilling out the door and anger blooms in my veins. I hate how they are treating Tongue. He deserves better.

  Sure, he stabbed Sarah, but I bet that isn’t the worst thing that has happened in the club.

  “We need to get you a ring before we go see Maximo.”

  “Maximo?” That name reminds me of a guy that shoots people for a living.

  “He runs a casino. His brother, Matteo Moretti, is at the clubhouse because he was in an explosion and fell into a coma. He just woke up but can’t remember anything. So his brother, Maximo, took over the family business.”

  “We are going to a casino?”

  “There’s a chapel in every casino here,” he says with a maniacal smirk. “Maximo will marry us and then there is a fighting rink under the casino. If you’re into that sort of thing…”

  I can tell he wants me to be.

  I giggle, jumping and wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his muscular neck. Damn it, I could fuck him right here in the middle of everything and everyone just so they can be envious of me.

  “Nice haircut, freak.” A frat boy with his collar popped throws a drink on us, and Tongue sets me in the alleyway we are near.