by K. L. Savage
And then everyone can go back to the way things are because redemption is a façade.
“Well, when am I allowed to see it?” Daphne bounces on her heels and has a giant smile on her face.
“What’s it that you tell me sometimes? Something about waiting makes good things worth it?” I say, trying to throw her words at her, but it fails.
She shakes her finger at me. “Someone is getting sassy.” She tugs the lapels of my cut and having her near almost makes me forget about Mercy staring at her. Almost. It’s one thing for strangers to look at Daphne, but a… friend? I guess that’s what he is, to the club at least. It’s crossing the line. I won’t have him lusting after her.
Killing someone for betrayal leaves a sweet taste in my mouth. I’m not afraid to kill Mercy. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I’ll need to keep a close eye on him. Daphne was uncomfortable too.
“Stop it,” Daphne says, wrapping her arms around my waist and tilting her head back. “You’re thinking too hard. Stop it or I’ll have to take you down so I can unwrap this gift myself.”
“Take me down where?” I kiss along her jaw. “The floor? In front of everyone? I won’t like them seeing you come on my cock, Comet.”
“Tongue.” She tilts her head back more and lets me have my way with her throat. So soft, so creamy, so slender. I can see the blue tint under her skin from the delicate vein. Daphne read to me once that the jugular veins, when severed, can drain blood from the human body in 5 to 15 seconds.
How beautiful is that?
It’s important for people to protect themselves, or something as sharp as a knife could end their life with one quick swipe.
I press a kiss to the nearly exposed vein, vowing to protect it from such evils.
Like me.
Those feelings bubble in my chest again. I feel exposed.
Nothing scares me, but that does. Because it means someone can see my weakness and use it against me.
“Okay, I’ve tortured you long enough. Just… keep an open mind okay? I’ve never made anything for anyone before.”
“It’s big,” she rasps, her cheeks painted a brilliant shade of pink, and the tint turns darker when she realizes how her words sound. “That too.” She grinds herself down on my leg against my shaft.
I glance up to see a few guys watching us, but they hurry back to their tasks when I narrow my eyes at them. One grabs the wheelbarrow and the other starts cleaning up the sheets of broken drywall. “Not here, Comet.” I kiss her one last time before I’m pulling myself back, reluctantly dropping my arms at my sides. If we keep touching one another, I’m afraid we will say ‘fuck it’ and not care about everyone else around us. I’ll bend her over and fuck her on all fours while the contractors watch. Maybe then, they will stop looking at her.
“Then stop staring at me like that,” she says.
“Never. I’ll never stop staring you like this.” Trying to rein in some control, I take a full step away from her and land on a board, which rocks from the awkward placement of my foot. I have to put space between us or this damn gift will never get unwrapped.
“Okay,” I blow out a nervous breath and continue to cut around the packaging. It’s just a bunch of random cardboard pieces I put together. Daphne has a habit of sneaking home new shipments of books she orders for the store. Every single day, a new box shows up, and she insists she has to read every book before putting it up on the shelves. She’s horrible with breaking down boxes and putting them in the recycling bin. She gets too excited about the damn books.
After the different sized boxes accumulated against the wall of our bedroom, I decided they would be perfect to use to wrap her gift.
“Tongue, whatever it is. I’m going to love it.”
I nod absentmindedly as I run the tip of the knife through the black tape. It’s a big box, and heavy. It’s impressive Mercy got it in here all by himself. Probably showing off for Daphne.
Strike two.
And when strike three comes, I’m going to rip his tongue out of his mouth and let him watch while I feed it to Happy.
“You’re getting lost in your head again.”
“Am not,” I argue.
“Are too.”
“Am not.” My lips twitch to smile, but they don’t. Happiness is a learning process and the muscles in my face aren’t used to being used. When I smile, my cheeks hurt. I don’t want my cheeks to hurt, so I don’t grin.
Problem solved.
“I can do this all day.”
“I know. It’s fun.” I open the top of the box and lay it against the wall. The gift itself is wrapped in pictures of tongues I printed out. It isn’t hard to sit at a computer, type ‘tongue’ in the search box since it’s one of the few words I know how to spell, and then have Slingshot press ‘print’.
Daphne giggles, covering her mouth with her hands as she stares at the atrocity of the wrapping job. It’s hideous.
“Come on, come, open it.”
She flies toward the box and grabs the middle, crumbling the paper with her fist. She tosses it to the floor and then goes at it with both hands, tearing at it like it’s Christmas. Shredded paper tongues scatter across the floor.
Since the gift is so big, she starts working on the other side. She grins as she unwraps, making tongues snow around her feet. It takes a few minutes, but she finally takes the last scrap of paper off. Before her is a large wooden beam, nearly the size of her. It’s made of a redwood tree I imported from California.
Redwood roots are shallow on the ground, but they never stop growing toward the sky, and that’s how I feel about us.
My roots are shallow, but my love for her constantly grows.
“So,” I clear my throat. I’m nervous. I have never done anything like this before. Giving gifts is all too new for me. “You don’t have to use it. Don’t feel pressured or obligated to. I… I… I wanted to do something nice for you.” There I go, stuttering and sounding like an idiot because of how nervous I am. If she doesn’t like it, that’s okay. I can break it down and use it as firewood. We can have a big bonfire. My feelings won’t be hurt.
My feelings are few and far between, and the only ones I have are for Daphne.
She runs her hand down the beam, her fingers stroking the polished wood. “What is it?”
Before I lose my nerve, I grab each side of the heavy wood. Grunting from the amount of strength I have to use, I turn the damn thing around. When it’s turned, I lay it on its side against the ground so she can see it level, not up and down.
She gasps, her lips parting and her eyes watering.
“I… um. I kn-know th-that…” God, you fucking idiot, just speak. It’s Daphne. Everything will be okay.
“Deep breaths, Comet. It’s me and you,” she says. “No judgement. Take your time.”
I inhale, my chest rising all the way before releasing. “I-I know you were struggling with a name for the bookstore. I wanted to surprise you. I drew the image and was going to give you the paper but decided maybe…”
She finally tears her eyes away from the gift and looks at me.
“Maybe this could be your store sign.”
She clasps her hands to her mouth in a gasp.
I try to keep going. “So I or-ordered the wood and carved it in. Slingshot taught me to read ‘Once Upon a Time’ and spell the words. He was patient. He’s my friend. He helped make this.” Regardless of how silly I sound, the words ring true.
The front of the sign is a carved book. It’s open down the middle with a castle etched on the top left hand side of the open page. My way of telling her she’s my fairytale. The lines of the pages are there too, and in gold letters it reads, ‘Once Upon A Comet’, and then on the bottom right side of the page in burnt black letters says ‘BOOKSTORE’. It took a long time to make, but if she doesn’t want to hang it and use it as her sign, I’ll understand. I’m sure she has her own vision.
She rubs a hand down the gold letters, then caresses the book, outlin
ing every detail with her finger. Every inch of the sign has been sanded and smoothed, and then has a waterproof protectant on it, on top of the shiny finish. There’s no way she can get a splinter.
The wood is as smooth as a baby’s butt.
Not that I’d know. I’ve never seen a baby’s butt, but Dawn says it all the time when she changes Joey’s diaper.
“Tongue, this is… this is amazing. I love it so much. It’s perfect. I love you!” She throws her arms around me and cries loud tears that shake her entire body.
“But you’re crying. You’re unhappy.”
She pulls away and keeps her arms on my shoulders, tears freely running down her cheek but her mouth in a big smile. “These are good tears. Happy tears. I love you, Wayne Hendrix. You’re so thoughtful. This sign is everything I wanted. It’s a symbol of our story, where it all started and where it will go. Our fairytale. This is our book.”
I did something good. I made her happy. A crooked grin tilts my lips. “Our own book? I hope it’s a million pages long so I can hear you read it to me forever.”
“And I’d read every word a million times if it means making you happy.”
Happy.
Such a new concept. It makes me exposed.
But it isn’t so bad. Not with Daphne.
She’s the new chapter in my life after so many others came to a horrible end.
“Can we hang it now?” she asks eagerly.
“Sorry, we still have work to do outside. It will have to wait a few days,” one of the contractors says.
“I’ll make another, a smaller one, one that you can carry with you.” I think about a necklace and a charm. I bet I could go to a local jeweler.
“You’re too good to me, Tongue.”
Is she kidding? I’ll never be good enough. Not when it comes to Daphne.
“Oh my god, that’s so sweet,” Juliette praises the sign as I show her a picture of it.
“Let me see. Let me see.” Melissa snatches it from my hands and her lips part. “Aw, that’s so cute.”
“What are you guys looking at?” Mary asks as she and Joanna walk into the living room. We are all sprawled on the couch watching Dawson’s Creek reruns. The men are in Church, and sometimes that lasts a while. While the boys are away, the girls will play, and right now, we want the seventy-inch flat screen to ourselves.
Melissa turns the phone to show Mary and Joanna as they plop down on the couch, groaning at the same time, but they peek at the phone and squeal when they see what Tongue did for me. Everyone in this house is pregnant it seems. Mary isn’t too far along, but Joanna is around thirty weeks. Her belly is as round as a basketball, but from the back, you can’t tell she is pregnant. Sarah is the same way.
Dawn didn’t want another baby right away, but Skirt was chomping at the bit. He wanted an entire clubhouse full of kids. Sunnie and Patrick want to wait until they have a few more years of sobriety under their belts, which I respect them for. Completely.
“Oh my god, someone take this child,” Dawn says, wobbling into the room with her daughter latched on her breast and Aidan gripped on to her leg. She’s sliding him across the floor since he won’t get off. The poor woman looks like she’s about to pass out from exhaustion.
“Aidan, leave your mom alone!” Maizey shoves him and Aidan falls right on his ass. “You are such a brat.”
“Am not!” Aidan tosses at her, then shoves her shoulder.
Their fight reminds me of the little spat Tongue and I had yesterday.
“Are too! You’re a baby.”
“You’re a baby, Maizey!”
“I’m rubber and you’re glue whatever you say, bounces off me, and sticks you!” Maizey sasses. I have to hold back a snort, because she flips her dark hair over her shoulder and lays her hands on her hips in triumph.
Sarah trudges into the main room next, her face pale. She’s walking a bit slower and gripping her stomach.
She and I might be on different pages right now, but I don’t want to see her in pain. Her hair is up in a messy bun and it looks like she hasn’t slept in a week. “Maizey, Aidan, enough. I don’t want to hear your bickering today. Go play in your room.”
Even though they just got into a spat, the kids run down the hall laughing, screaming ‘you’re it!’ as they disappear into Maizey’s room.
“Sarah, are you okay?” I ask, pushing myself off the couch. Tyrant and Yeti lift their heads and watch me as I walk over to her. She leans against the bar that hasn’t been used since Patrick and Sunnie came back from rehab. “Sarah?” I lay a hand on her arm and the girls crowd around me.
Sunnie comes into the room next, a bowl of popcorn attached to her hip so we can marathon our show. We are all in need of some serious girl time. When she sees us, she sets the bowl on the bar top, then presses her hand against Sarah’s forehead. Sarah and Sunnie look similar in a lot of ways: blonde hair, small frame, but while Sarah has brown eyes, Sunnie’s are blue. Her hair is a bit whiter while Sarah’s is more of a dirty blonde. Sunnie has more color too, a natural golden hue to her skin.
“You’re warm, Sarah. How long have you been feeling like this?” Sunnie asks, brows drawn in concern.
“It’s nothing,” she waves the issue away.
“Honey, you don’t look so good. I think we need to interrupt Church,” Dawn says, hissing as the baby latches onto her nipple harder. “I’m breastfeeding a vampire, I swear.” Her face pinches in pain before Joey relaxes and stops sucking so hard.
“No, no. Reaper’s been worried enough as is. I don’t want him to worry. It’s just a bad case of morning sickness. I’ve been really looking forward to this girl time.”
I worry my bottom lip and Mary hands me my phone while we all think about what to do. I tuck it in my back pocket, then glance toward the closed Church doors. No one can hear a thing anymore, not since Reaper soundproofed it. The only way to get their attention is to ring the doorbell he installed. “I agree with Sunnie, Sarah. Are you in pain?” It’s another big black cloud that hangs over our heads. She’s a high-risk pregnancy, after Tongue stabbed her. It was an accident, but still, she wouldn’t be at such high risk if Tongue didn’t stab her.
My argument? Tongue wouldn’t have stabbed her if he hadn’t been in that position where the guys invaded his privacy, sending him into a whirlwind of bad memories and flashbacks.
She cups the bottom of her stomach and hunches over, a muted cry leaving her lips as another wave hits her.
“Oh my god, someone go get Reaper.”
“No! Not again,” she cries when she falls to her knees. Her hand won’t leave the small swell. “No, please, no.” Her broken sobs have tears pooling in my eyes. I fall to my knees, then rub small circles across her back to try and make her feel better. “I can’t do this again. Oh my god,” she screams, then flips to her back. She rests her head in my lap, and I swipe the hair off her damp face.
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” I tell her, then I lay my hand on top of hers, protecting her unborn baby with her. “We won’t allow it.”
“It hurts so much,” she wails, her big brown eyes bubbling with fat tears. “I’m losing her. I feel it. I’m losing her.” She clenches her eyes shut. Another roar of pain escapes her. A deep, agonizing, guttural, shattering sound has a tear escaping me. I hate this for her. She can’t lose this baby. Reaper and Sarah don’t deserve that kind of pain, and I know Tongue will never forgive himself if she does. He already wakes up in cold sweats at night when he dreams of stabbing her.
“A girl?” I try to take her mind off the pain. “How do you know?”
“I just feel it. I can’t have this happen, I can’t.”
Melissa and Sunnie bang on the Church doors, yelling for someone to answer.
“Ring the bell, remember? He soundproofed it last week,” I remind them. I have no idea what to say to Sarah. Nothing can take this fear from her. All I can do is be here.
Sarah digs her cheek into my leg and her arm curls up against
my thigh. Her nails dig in against my skin, right where the hem of my pajama shorts ends.
“It’s okay. Reaper will be here soon. Doc will take care of you,” I tell her, trying to soothe her the best I can. I pet her cheek to dry the tears, but they are coming too fast.
“What is it?” Badge snaps at the girls when he opens the door. He sure is an asshole on most days, but he’s there when it matters. His eyes widen when he sees Sarah on the floor. “Reaper! Doc! It’s Sarah.”
Melissa and Sunnie move out of the way just in time before the heavy boom, boom, boom, of boots stampedes toward us.
“Sarah, Doll! Fuck, what happened? What is it?” Reaper slides his arm under her and moves her from my lap to his. He sets his sights on her belly and his left palm swims over his child, his fingers curling over the bump. Sarah takes his fingers in hers. “No,” he chokes. “No, it isn’t the baby? Please, tell me it isn’t the baby.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh,” he blinks back tears. The badass President embraces his emotions, not giving a damn if any of us witnesses him break. “It’s okay, we will get through it. We always do.”
“Hey, Sarah,” Doc kneels beside her, just as Tongue watches from the Church doorway. His eyes are wide, and he is frozen in fear seeing Sarah on the ground like this. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” He rolls her to her side and checks out her rear, but not sexually. With a slow, timid motion, he places her on her back again.
“It hurts,” she whimpers. “So bad. I almost can’t breathe.”
“Well, you aren’t bleeding. I didn’t see any blood, which is a good thing, but I need to get you downstairs so I can do a full evaluation. I think it’s what we talked about before, remember? Your muscle in your abdomen didn’t get a chance to properly heal. It’s scarred and stretched thin. It’s weak. You’re growing, which is stretching that muscle. That’s the cause of the pain.”
“I’m not having a miscarriage?” she asks, hopefully.
“Really?” Reaper smiles and starts to laugh, but the laugh falls short when it morphs into a choked sob. “You’re sure?”