TONGUE'S TARGET (RUTHLESS KINGS MC™ LAS VEGAS CHAPTER (A RUTHLESS UNDERWORLD NOVEL) Book 11)

by K. L. Savage

  A grumble of bikes passes by slowly, and one of the bikers stares directly into my soul. He has bright blue eyes. For some reason, their leather cuts look familiar. On them is emblazoned the words ‘Ruthless Kings, NOLA Chapter’. I try to think of where I recognize it from but can’t quite put my finger on it.

  I don’t know where I could have seen a Ruthless King before. I’m not exactly the biker type, but something about them feels familiar. The burn on my chest sends a stab of pain, like it’s trying to remind me of something.

  I think it was some freak accident. Daddy said when I was on the phone with him that I was on vacation. The trip must not have been very good because I don’t remember a thing.

  Daddy’s rusted green Chevy comes to view through the pick-up lane. The muffler is off, and the engine is loud, followed by the smell of gas fumes. The grill is hanging on by a piece of wire and the passenger side door doesn’t open from the outside. Daddy leans over from the driver’s side and opens it for me. He has a cigarette hanging in his mouth and a flash of anger in his eyes, but it’s gone the moment I notice it.

  Probably my mind playing tricks on me. Daddy says that happens a lot, which is why he sent me on vacation, to clear my head.

  “We need to go see your aunt. Get your ass in the truck and stop wasting my damn day.” He smells of booze again.

  “I thought you quit drinking.” I yank the seatbelt across my chest and buckle up.

  “Well, I fucking felt like starting again. That a problem?”

  “No, Daddy,” I whisper, a whirlwind of uneasiness settling in my stomach. My head hurts so bad and when I close my eyes, I see a face that eases the queasiness. He’s handsome. Chocolate hair and brown eyes, tattoos, but I don’t know how I know him.

  But I think I do?

  No. Maybe I’ve just seen him somewhere and latched on because I thought he was cute.

  “What happened to your knuckles?” I question, staring at the broken red skin that looks a few days old.

  “None of your business.” He flicks the cigarette ash into the small tray that came with the truck, where a dozen other orange butts are buried. The car is just like I remember it, with burn holes all over the leather seat. An open Big Gulp cup is in one of the cup holders that has chewing tobacco stuck to the sides. A tangle of bat bones is hanging from the rearview mirror. Daddy says it keeps the ghosts away.

  He grabs the black angled gear shift and pulls it down into drive and presses the gas. He turns the volume up on the radio, some classic rock station screaming about “Girls, Girls, Girls.” I know it’s code for not wanting to talk.

  As we pass the bikers who are pulled over on the side of the pick-up lane, my eyes lock with the one I saw a few minutes ago. His eyes are the clearest blue I’ve ever seen. He stares at me until I’m too far away to look at him.

  Daddy doesn’t stop like he should when he turns onto the road to see if traffic is clear. Car horns blare and the tires screech along the road as he straightens the wheel.

  The Mississippi River is to the right, and today it is murky and the water is high. The heat waves are ripping through the air, and I roll down the window to get some sort of breeze, since the air conditioning doesn’t work.

  “So, you go away for a few months and come back fat? What the fuck happened to you?”

  I glance down at my body and frown. I don’t think I look that different.

  “This is why you need to always be with me. Plus, your aunt came to see me and started bitching at me about your mother’s will. I need you here to help fight her with me. Me and you, the widow and the daughter, she won’t stand a chance.”

  I don’t like how that sounds.

  The familiar rumble is distant and when I glance in the side mirror, I see the motorcycles a few cars behind us. I wait for the fear, but there isn’t any there. I’m… relieved.

  Why?

  The side of my head is hurting again and the trees warp as the river’s waves get abnormally large. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me.

  Comet.

  A deep voice penetrates my inner thoughts, and I smile when I hear his voice. Who is it?

  “I swear to god, if you aren’t worth it,” Daddy mumbles under his breath as he tightens his hand on the wheel.

  I lean my forehead against the frame of the truck, letting hot air rush across my face. I’m trying to piece together where I’ve been or what I’ve done, but there’s a wall in my head that I can’t break down. Something is stopping me from thinking clearly.

  What does Daddy do to make me like this?

  “Get the fuck out. I’m going to go find a parking spot.”

  I open my eyes to see that we are in front of the hospital already. The bushes on either side of the automatic doors are bright green, and an alligator sticker on the side of the bench has my heart kicking up a notch.

  But why?

  “Hurry the fuck up, you idiot. Christ. No good, just like your—”

  I don’t hear what he has to say because I slam the door, not wanting to hear the hatred he spews. I don’t know how I’ve managed to live with him all these years.

  Something tells me I haven’t, but I don’t understand. I’m more confused than ever.

  I head inside the hospital and the burst of air conditioning drapes over my sweaty skin. I sigh in relief. Damn, that feels good.

  I pass a few people holding their stomach. One is puking in a barf bag and the other looks like he is thinking about puking. It’s a cruel, sick cycle. Literally.

  The nurse at the front desk is older, with dyed brown hair to cover the grays, and her lips are thin and wrinkled. She purses them as she talks on the phone. When she notices me through spider leg lashes, she holds the phone to her shoulder. “Sorry, sweetie. The man is just going on and on about how someone messed up his stitches. How can I help you?” Her southern accent takes away the edge gnawing at my stomach.

  “I’m looking for my aunt. Her name is Tina Douglas. She’s a patient here.”

  She types away on the keyboard and the jolly expression she had on her face is gone. “She’s in intensive care,” she says sadly. “It’s the East wing. Just follow this hallway and look for one of the doctors there to update you on her condition.”

  “Intensive… oh my god, what happened?” Aunt Tina is the closest person I have to a mother. She has to be okay.

  “We don’t know. She was found beaten up pretty good. Sorry, sweetie. I’ll keep her in my prayers.” She touches the golden cross she has around her neck, as if what she says is supposed to bring me comfort.

  I give her the best smile I can manage, which is barely there, with a tiny lift of my lips. I head down the hall like she says and follow the signs that lead me to intensive care. The floors wobble and I pause, holding out my hands to steady myself. It looks like lava.

  No one else seems to be concerned. I get a few odd looks from doctors passing me by.

  It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.

  Act natural. Your mind is playing tricks on you.

  I step through the lava and wait for the undeniable pain, but nothing happens. When I don’t feel the expected agony, the floor turns to normal again and I let out a deep breath.

  See? I’m fine.

  I get to the double doors with the words Intensive Care painted in red across them and step through. Now I have no idea where to go. Everyone is so busy. The doctors are rushing back and forth, and the nurses are helping the patients. I stand there, not knowing what to do, when an arm grabs mine and pulls me back out the doors.

  I’m shoved in a closet and a hand is over my mouth.

  Blue eyes.

  “Do not scream,” he whispers. His Cajun accent is slight, making him easy to understand. “My name is Seer. That name mean anything to you?”

  I shake my head.

  “I’m going to lift my hand from your mouth, and you need to promise me you aren’t going to scream. I’m not here to hurt yo
u, cher. I’m here to help.”

  As fast as I can, I nod.

  “Okay, that’s real good, cher. Real good.” He eases his hand off me and keeps it hovered, just in case he has to silence me again.

  “You’re from the airport.”

  “I am. A friend of mine asked if I could find you. Luckily, they have a guy that’s good at locating people. You, mon amie, were a good girl using a credit card.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Daphne, you don’t belong here. Don’t you feel that? You are meant to be somewhere else. Men from the Ruthless Kings Las Vegas chapter are coming for you. Do you know them?”

  I shake my head, but it does sound familiar.

  And… “It feels like I do.”

  “Oh, cherie. You bet you do,” he replies with a smile. His hand is back over my mouth when a doctor stops outside of the door to talk to a coworker.

  “I don’t know how she’s going to make it.”

  “Me either. She received one hell of a beating. Whoever did this is a monster.”

  I wonder if they are talking about my Aunt Tina.

  “You cannot trust your dad,” Seer tells me, his blue eyes oddly bright as he stares at me. “I think you know that. Here.” He points a finger to my heart. “And here.” He taps my head. “The human instinct is some of the most powerful forces out there, mon amie. You just need to listen to you.”

  “What’s happening to me?”

  “Your mind is lost, Daphne, but don’t worry. It’s going to be found. Keep an open mind. And your aunt’s abuser is closer to you than you think.”

  Riddles. I’m not good at riddles.

  “I’ll be keeping an eye on you while you’re here.”

  “Why?”

  “Mostly to keep my head on my body,” he chuckles. “That Tongue is no man to mess with, especially when it comes to you.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Oh, cher. That’s a story for another time, I’m afraid. Just keep yourself alive. Okay? I know you think you don’t remember right now, but that is not true. You remember everything.”

  “I remember nothing,” I hiss, unable to stop the pool of tears blurring my vision. “I know nothing.”

  His hand lands on my shoulder and he brings his lips to my ear, whispering, “Your dreams remember everything.”

  I close my eyes when his warm breath becomes too close. “But my dreams—” I snap my eyes open to find myself alone in the closest.

  “He was here,” I say to myself. “I’m not crazy. He was right here.” I find myself staring at the corner, the darkest part of the room, and wait.

  Wait for what, I don’t know.

  Something about the shadows calls me home.

  I just wish I knew where home was.

  I’m fucking furious.

  “You think you’re going to do what?” I snarl at Reaper as he speaks to me from the other side of the glass. I bang my fist against it. “You aren’t going anywhere without me.”

  “Tongue, you’re injured, and I think a few days here might help. We know where she is. Badge saw she bought a plane ticket to New Orleans. I’ve already called Pocus. They found her. Seer has already talked to her.”

  Bullseye and Reaper share a look. I hate that look. It tells me they know something else and they don’t want me to know. “What else?”

  Reaper rubs a hand over his day-old scruff and fogs up the glass as he sighs. I pound my fist against the glass again, right where Bullseye’s face is. I want to punch it. “Tell me!”

  “She doesn’t remember anything, Tongue. She’s in one of her episodes.”

  “Remember? Remember what?” I ask stupidly. By the expressions on their faces, it hits me like an anvil. I stumble backward from the hard hit of the weight.

  “Wayne? Hey! Wayne!” Porter calls out to me somewhere in the distance.

  “She can’t remember me? She doesn’t remember us?”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Reaper says sadly.

  She said she’d never forget.

  And now… what am I going to do? My chest heaves as sorrow fuels me.

  “We are going to go down to meet the NOLA chapter. We will be back, and she will come with us.”

  “You are going to let me go,” I say to him. “I need to see her. I need to remind her of us. She remembers. Maybe not right now, but she will.” She’ll see me in her dreams. She has to. I have to hold onto that. I have to… I gulp.

  I have to believe in that. I have to believe that our love is stronger than a memory. It’s a comet that stands the test of time and burns forever.

  “Tongue—”

  I charge to the glass window and slam my head against it. Blood drips from the crack spidering outward. I don’t even bother to wipe my face. “If you don’t, I swear, I will break this wall down and find her my fucking self.”

  “Mercy, Bullseye—”

  “She needs me!” a howl rips from the top of my lungs. “She doesn’t have a damn thing to do with Mercy. Her memories run deep with me. Me! She’s mine, Reaper. If this were Sarah, you would stop at nothing to save her. This is my ol’ lady. Don’t take this from me.”

  The last words make his face soften. “Okay,” he says.

  “Can I come, or is that asking too much?” Porter asks as he taps the glass.

  “It’s too much to ask. I don’t trust you.”

  “I don’t trust you either.”

  “You’re staying. You’re lucky I don’t kill you where you stand. You are only alive for Tongue. That’s it. Zain!” he calls for his uncle.

  “Don’t yell, I’m right here. Damn,” Zain huffs as he comes out of the room diagonal from me. “I heard everything.” He takes out the set of keys and slides one into the lock. “They only put you in here because they were afraid you’d hurt yourself.”

  “I already hurt myself,” I say, slipping out the door when he opens it and grab the bag of my stuff they packed and left by the door days ago.

  “Let’s go. I don’t want to waste any more time. Who knows what her father is doing to her? Who is coming?” I ask.

  “No one besides us. Poodle has Ellie’s ballet recital to go to, Joey is sick, so Skirt is staying, Doc doesn’t want to leave Joanna, Tool has his first college night at King’s Club, Patrick—”

  “I get it. It’s fine. Let’s go,” I say. “She isn’t going to remember on her own.” I’m so impatient. I want to get there already. Is she okay? Is she hurt? Is she happier without me?

  Reaper, Zain, and Bullseye walk away and head down the steps.

  “Hey, baby brother.”

  I look at Porter over my shoulder, wishing things could be different between us. I wish there was a possibility we could be brothers, but there isn’t and there never will be. “What?”

  “Be careful.”

  “Why do you care?”

  He lifts a shoulder and strokes the spine of the book he is reading. “I don’t know. I just know I do. Just don’t go getting yourself killed.”

  I give him a slight chin tilt. “You too,” I say languidly. I’m unsure about this new development, but it’s hard to ignore that we share the same mom. It’s hard to ignore he killed her too, but also, the hardest to ignore is the fact my mom didn’t love me at all.

  Porter is sick, thinking trying to kill me was in some way saving me.

  Sickness must run in the family because I know I’m not right in the head either. How we get past this, I don’t know. It’s too much to think about right now. I run down the steps, needing to get away from him and remind myself he is the Groundskeeper.

  A man that wanted to kill me and the only family I’ve known.

  I can’t forgive that.

  I’m not that good of a man. Hell, I’m not a good man at all.

  I stop in the bathroom to change and pull on my cut before I fly out the front door and see Reaper and Bullseye waiting near the truck.

  “Do not make me regret this,” Reaper warns. “Keep your h
ead when we are down there.”

  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” I tell him in earnest and hop in the backseat, then shut the door.

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” Reaper and Bullseye buckle their seatbelts at the same time. “Let’s get this trip over with and bring home Daphne.”

  “Can we bring Tool? Please?” Bullseye starts to laugh. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen him freak out over Seer.”

  “No. I need him here. Too many of our women are pregnant and need protection. I’m not leaving them alone when I have two of my best killers in the truck right now.” Reaper turns the engine of the Ford Raptor and its horses shake the truck. He stretches his arm across the back of the passenger seat and turns around. “Tongue, we need to have a serious talk before we go.”

  “Can it wait? I want… I need to get to Daphne.”

  “I know, but this needs to be said.” He turns his body, and the movement has his jeans rubbing against the leather. “I know things have been tense between us. I’ve been tiptoeing around you, and I’m sorry.”

  I stare out the window and stare at the cactus growing from the ground. I’m uncomfortable. The only heart to heart I want to have is with Daphne.

  “What happened to you, I should have talked to you about it instead of walking on eggshells. It was wrong of me to invade your privacy. I exposed you. That was wrong of me, and it was my failure as President. I apologize.”

  I feel exposed now.

  I rub my chest. The anxiety is almost physical, in the way it applies pressure.

  “I didn’t enjoy burning Daphne, but I was fucking proud of her for doing that for you. I want her for you, Tongue. She’s strong. And I am proud of you.”

  I’ve never heard someone besides Daphne tell me they are proud of me. It’s a strange feeling. I almost… like it?

  “I know you’ve been having a hard time lately trusting us. And I get it. I would too, in your position. But I want you to know you always have a place here with us. No matter what, you’re family, Tongue.”

  He stares at me, and I can tell he really means it.

  “Can we go now?” This is too… uncomfortable. I want to cut the tongue out of her father’s throat. She’s mine.