by K. L. Savage
“Tongue, no,” I whisper, but I know it’s too late.
That frat boy has popped his last collar.
Indefinitely.
“Is that right?” Tongue grips the man who spilled his beer all over us and his friend by the neck. People who are walking by us don’t even blink an eye. They are drunk and not paying any mind to what we are doing. “Let’s take a little trip, boys.” Tongue pushes them into the black alley. “You’re stupid, aren’t you?”
“We were just on our way by. We won’t bother you again,” the innocent one says, whispering something out of the side of his mouth to his friend.
I’m not sure what gets into me, but I flank Tongue’s other side, wanting to be there for him. We reek of beer.
Frat boy pushes his friend, who falls in a pile of trash that is sitting in the corner. Who knows how long it’s been there? The ground underneath the black garbage bag is wet. “Fuck that. He’s just some weirdo with a hot piece of ass. Does he share, baby? I promise, you’ve never—” his eyes go wide when Tongue shoves his knife in the middle of the guys throat.
I inch closer, gasping when I see him choke on his own blood, gasping for air.
“Holy shit,” the friend of his says, cowering in the corner. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”
“You fucked with the wrong freak,” Tongue lowers his voice and twists the knife in the frat boy’s throat, then gives it an extra shove until a slight crunch has the knife exiting out of the back of the head. “Apologize to my wife.” Tongue pulls the young guy forward and he coughs blood. It drips down his chin. “I said apologize or I’ll kill your friend here too.” Tongue licks the blood off the guys chin, and I know I should be disturbed, but I’m not.
All I want Tongue to do is kiss me now.
“You taste like fucking bitch,” Tongue says.
The smell of piss fills the air and the guy hanging on Tongue’s blade slides his vacant eyes to me. “I’m—” he wheezes, spitting out another mouthful of blood. “—Sorry.”
“Sorry won’t save you.” The words slip out of my mouth at the same time Tongue pulls the knife free of the man’s neck. He falls to his knees, and Tongue opens the man’s mouth, pulls out his tongue, digs the knife in the back of his throat, and cuts. “Now you won’t be able to disrespect women from the dead.”
My crazy man tucks the bloody tongue in his cut pocket, and I lift a brow in question. “My swamp kitties.”
“You have kittens?” I ask with excitement. “Oh, can we get one?”
“Anything my Comet wants, she gets,” Tongue says simply, then stares at the man in the corner sitting on the trashcan, crying his eyes out.
“Please,” the guy begs. His jeans are wet with garbage juice and pee. Snot is running down his lips, and his eyes are swollen from sobbing. “Please, don’t kill me. I don’t think you’re a freak. My friend was an asshole. I’m not like that.”
“I don’t believe you. Birds of a feather and such…” Tongue spins the ten-inch blade around, but it’s a different one. I haven’t seen this knife before. The blade is black, and the handle is ivory. There is something carved into the side, but I can’t tell.
“No, I swear, I swear, I don’t share the same thoughts. I won’t tell a soul what happened. I…”
“I wouldn’t care if you did,” Tongue says, taking a step closer.
I follow him, stepping in a pool of blood. An idea flashes in my mind, but it’s crazy. I can’t, but I want to ask Tongue to step in it as I kneel to suck his cock.
“Tell my wife she is beautiful,” Tongue orders, sliding the obsidian metal across the man’s cheek, cutting the flesh open. “Tell her!” he roars, and the anger in his voice has a gush of heat pooling in my panties.
“You’re very pretty,” the man trembles, licking the snot off his lips. He turns his watery gaze to Tongue and whimpers. “Please. I’ll do anything. I’m a senior in college. I have a fiancé. I’m not a bad guy. I’m not.”
Tongue drags his knife down the man’s throat. “Every guy is a bad guy.”
“I’m not. The worst thing I’ve ever done is litter. I swear, please,” he sobs, squeezing his face in agony as he begs for his life.
I can see what Tongue likes about it. There is so much adrenaline when it comes to taking a life.
We’re in the shadows. Night has fallen. The only lights that shine are the ones of the Vegas strip. I can hear low hums of conversation at the start of the alley, but I can no longer see the crowd of people walking.
We can do whatever we want, and no one will know.
“I don’t know if I believe you,” Tongue taps the tip of the knife against his tooth. “I think you’re just saying that, so you don’t end up like your buddy.”
The guy widens his eyes and shakes his head. “No, no, no, I’m not. She’s very beautiful. If I weren’t engaged and she was single, I’d ask her out.”
“You’d ask out the woman meant for me? No one else is allowed to have her.”
“Of course not,” the man nods in agreement. “If you didn’t exist, that’s all I’m saying, and if my fiancé didn’t exist. Different worlds.”
“What do you think, Comet? Let him go?” Tongue onyx orbs land on me waiting to see if I can make the decision. I feel like I have to do this.
“Yeah, let him go, my Comet,” I say sweetly, swaying the hem of my dress. “We can have fun with this one,” I point to the frat boy who is still bleeding out fresh rivers of blood.
I can’t tell if Tongue is disappointed in me or not. His facial expressions give nothing away. He blows me a kiss and stares at the guy again. “You heard her. She’s in charge. You’re free to go.”
“Really?” the guy’s wet cheeks shine in the light of the moon.
“Really,” I say with reassurance, sliding my hand over Tongue’s shoulder.
The man doesn’t say anything else. He pushes to his feet and leans against the brick wall, then inches his way around us. I can hear the material of his shirt being pricked by the stone as he drags himself across it. “Thank you,” he says. “Thank you so much.” He gives his friend a sorrowful stare and then throws up when he sees all the blood.
He stumbles in a zig-zag pattern, slamming against the right side of the wall. “Ouch, you okay?” I ask him and he doesn’t give me an answer. His eyes are on the exit.
“Hey, kid,” Tongue flips the knife in the air and catches it. “You know what I hate?” And with a flick of his wrist, the blade slices through the air and lands with a sickening thud in the middle of the guys forehead.
My hand grips the swell of Tongue’s ass, more turned on than ever because Tongue knew I didn’t want the guy to escape.
The guy lifts his hands and touches the ivory handle, then yanks it out. He tries to come at us, but he is only a second away from death. He trips, slamming into Tongue. Tongue croons gently at the dying college student and rips the knife out of his hand.
“I hate liars,” Tongue whispers in the victim’s ear, then with the gentlest push, the sharp tool effortlessly pierces the throat. “You’re in Vegas without your fiancé with frat boy over here. That tells me you’re up to no good. No good man travels without the love of his life. I’d never go anywhere without my Comet,” Tongue explains to him and eases the shiv out of his throat. He gags like his friend, spews blood into Tongue’s face. “Mmm,” Tongue licks his lips and chuckles, dipping his hand into the man’s mouth.
There’s no fight in the stranger. He doesn’t make a sound.
Even if he wanted to, he can’t now, not with his Tongue in my Comet’s hands. He opens up his cut pocket to tuck it alongside the other one, but I stop him. “Can I?” I hold out my hands, wondering what it’s like to hold one.
“You sure? These go to the swamp kitties, Comet. I’m not going to be mad if you don’t want to. It’s an acquired taste.”
“Please.”
“Another time, Daphne. I don’t want you to ruin your dress. It’s pretty on you.” He tucks my hair behind m
y ear. “I like that color on you, it brings out the creamy tone of your skin, Comet.”
I glance down and blush, swaying my dress from side to side.
“Come on, let’s go get married.” Blood drips from his cut pocket, dripping down his jeans. It reminds me of the box he held when I first saw him. He wasn’t lying when he said it was dripping blood.
Holy Moly.
He’s a maniac.
And I’m in love with him.
“Let’s go get married.” Our bloody hands lock together, and he slips the knife into another pocket where it can be seen. We walk out of the alley, and I wait for someone to notice the mess on us, everyone is laughing, drinking, and ignoring us.
We pass the Bellagio, and the fountain is putting on a show with different colored lights flashing. Tourists are stopped, pointing at the tall sprays of water. We pass a sad-looking Elvis who is overweight, and the wig is crooked, but people are paying him for pictures anyway. There’s a man painted silver, standing stock still.
I think it’s a man.
I don’t know. He’s really convincing. I lean forward as we walk by, and his eyes follow me. I jump, holding my hand to my chest and laugh, then wave as Tongue pulls me behind him. I’m thirsty, and my skin is sticky with sweat from the humidity in the air. When we stop in front of the hotel, I’m surprised when I notice the Circus Circus Casino, but the name is gone, blank, and everything is under construction.
“Maximo is rebuilding this piece of shit. The inside is classy. Perfect to marry you in. Then, we can get a room, maybe after we visit the underground fighting ring. Shit! Your ring. I haven’t gotten you one.”
“It’s okay. I don’t need one. I just want to be with you.”
“No, no! You need a ring. Fuck.”
“Tongue? That you? You crazy son-of-a-bitch!”
I dip behind Tongue’s back to hide behind his massive back and peer around his shoulder.
“Maximo. The man I wanted to see.”
“Really? That’s interesting. What can I do your for? You want to get in on some fighting action? God, you’d make me a lot of money.”
“Can I cut out tongues?”
“You can do whatever the fuck you want. You do that for me, anything is yours.”
I tighten my hand around Tongue’s and push up my glasses with my fingers. Maximo leans to the left and eyes me, smiling.
“Well, look at you, Tongue. I had no idea a man of your caliber was interested in women.”
“You never asked. Don’t look at her or I’ll fucking kill you.”
“How can I not look at her? She’s cute, a little geeky, which I’m surprised because you’re big and scary,” Maximo laughs, pulling out a long cigar from his pocket. He rubs it under his nose, sniffing it, which reminds me of how Tongue smells books.
“Mine,” Tongue snarls at him and pushes me behind his back more to completely block me from Maximo.
Maximo rolls his eyes, and he snaps his fingers in the air. Immediately, a guy the size of Tongue lights a match and places it on the end of the cigar. Maximo puffs until the orange glow is constant. “Don’t be a caveman. I’m not interested in your librarian. What do you want? Why is a lone Ruthless King on my property? Is this about my brother?”
“No. I’m here because we are getting married. Can we do it here? Penthouse Suite, the works. I need a ring too. I’ll pay any price.”
“You fight three fighters, and it’s all yours.”
“I’ll kill them,” Tongue states. “I don’t fight to wound, Maximo.”
“I know. That’s what I love about you.” Maximo brushes off the lapels of his expensive suit. The lapels are black but the suit itself is blue. He’s a good-looking man. Tan skin, pretty hair that’s combed back in waves. He points the cigar at Tongue’s hair. “You aren’t getting near anything expensive with that hair. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“It isn’t that bad.”
I chuckle when I hear the pout in Tongue’s voice. He isn’t the kind of guy to pout.
“It’s bad. You did it, didn’t you? I swear to god, a guy cuts for a living but can’t cut his own damn hair. How does that make sense?”
“You want those fights or not?” Tongue marches forward, and I yelp when I’m jerked forward unexpectedly.
“Hey!” Maximo snaps his fingers. “I’m serious. You aren’t going in there with that haircut. I’m building a business here. I can’t allow just anyone in. You have fucking blood on your shoes. You aren’t tracking that in. Jesus, did you kill on your stroll over. I’m going to call Reaper and tell him his psycho fled the building.”
“Don’t,” Tongue warns, the hint of the playful side of him gone. “Don’t call him.”
Maximo tilts his head up to meet Tongue’s eyes, grinning like a scum who just figured out something he could use for himself. Knowledge is power and the only way to get ahead in life is to use it for your advantage. Maximo knows this. “Oh, what did the favorite do?” Maximo tsks, his teeth glimmering white in the flashing casino lights.
I push my hands under Tongue’s shirt and rub his back when he tenses.
“Five fights and your secret is my own.” Maximo blows out stinky smoke and lays a hand on his heart. “What do you say, Tongue? Want to make a deal with the devil?”
Tongue whips out his knife and presses it against Maximo’s chest. The goons surrounding Maximo whip out their guns, and I move from behind Tongue and stand in front of him, ready to take all the bullets.
“Oh, why don’t you look at that,” Maximo pushes the knife away, more interested in me. “You found someone who is crazy enough to take a bullet for you. Isn’t that sweet. I had no idea psychos could love.”
“We love harder,” I spit at him. “And you’re nothing like the Devil I know.”
The Devil I know is the one you wish you didn’t.
I want to fuck her right here, right now.
I can’t believe she stepped in front of two men with guns to protect me.
Me.
I never knew I was worth it, but she’s shown me I’m worth it to her.
“Well, let me show you the way to hell, beautiful,” Maximo spreads out his arm to the front doors of the casino, showing us the way inside.
Please.
Slot machines and blackjack tables are a far cry from being burned alive.
“Take a left. Do not go in there looking like a serial killer. I do not need customers fleeing because they see you,” Maximo informs me, walking ahead of us.
The lights inside strobe with every pull of a handle from a slot machine. People are shouting as they win and groan as they lose. Suckers. I’d never give my money to Maximo. The chances of winning are slim to none when it comes to casinos, but when it comes to killing?
I always win.
“Here,” Maximo opens the door to a private hallway, and when Daphne is tucked safely at my side, the echoing sound of a lock sliding into place bounces off the empty hallway. The noise of the casino fades away, and the only noise is the thud of our footsteps as we follow Maximo. “I want the cut off, shirt off, and you can have your knife in the ring. Anyone who volunteers can fight you.”
“Why does his shirt need to be off?” Daphne’s jealousy has my erection pressing against my zipper. I need to have her soon.
“Because he is a big, bad biker with tattoos, beautiful. Sex sells, and I want to make money.”
Daphne’s fingers push her glasses up the bridge of her nose, narrowing her eyes at Maximo in discontent. I love this side of her.
“I don’t like you,” Daphne tells Maximo, the temporary boss of the Moretti mafia, while his brother heals.
“Such a shame because I really like you,” Maximo purrs, opening a black door with a gold handle.
“Watch it, Maximo. I just killed two men for less,” I warn him, feeling the itch to kill him. I can’t do that, or I’ll declare war and right now, I have enough to worry about right now, like if I have a home to go to. And I need to find the ma
n threatening Daphne. If someone takes her from me, they don’t want to see what I’ll turn into.
There will be no saving me or anyone in my way. No one understands how my mind works except Daphne.
When I say she is mine, I don’t mean it in a sweet way. I mean it in the worst way possible. The kind that scares people. The kind of way her friends would be worried about her because I’m so possessive of her. I’m beyond obsessed.
“Just getting you worked up for the fight. I’ll get my stylist to fix that mess. Be ready in twenty minutes,” Maximo says.
“Don’t bother. I can fix it,” Daphne enters the room and I follow.
“A woman that takes charge—”
Daphne slams the door in Maximo’s face, silencing him from talking. “That guy gets on my nerves.”
I shrug off my cut and one of the tongues slips out and falls to the floor with a sickening slap. “You do know he is the head of the mafia here in Vegas, right?”
“So?” she scoffs. “Doesn’t mean I have to like him.” She bends down to pick up the tongue, but I stop her by placing my boot on top of it. “It’s okay, I got it,” she says, blinking those sapphire eyes at me.
Testing her, I lift my leg off the tongue and watch in fascination as she slips her hand under it. “Wow,” she says, staring in awed interest. “It’s heavier than I thought it would be.” She leans down and sniffs it. “Uh, this guy had bad breath.” She pinches the tip and hands it back to me and I can’t help but chuckle.
“You’re perfect,” I state simply, staring at her in fascination. How did I get so lucky? I lift my cut off the chair and tuck the tongue inside the pocket. I’ll need to clean this cut. There’s a ton of blood on it.
“I just want to be everything you want me to be,” she whispers, forgetting she has blood on her hands as she pushes her glasses up her nose again.
I shrug off my shirt and invade her space. I grip the back of her neck with my hand and bring my head down, teasing her with the promise of a kiss. “You’re already everything I could ever want, Daphne. Don’t force yourself to be someone you aren’t for me. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and that is never going to change.” I press a kiss to her lips and one taste has me losing the shredded thread of my control. I deepen the kiss pushing my tongue forcefully between her lips and licking the roof of her mouth. I want to devour her. I want to crawl underneath her skin and become one with the better half of who I am.
