Page 18 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“You find Putnam?”Koyngrowls.

“Fucker got away. Everyone else is dead, though.”

“Goddammit!” Koyn roars, his fury rattling me to my bones.

Everyone? Hammer? Bouncer? Molly? Juicy?

Oh God.

I stop my struggling when I realize the man speaking to Koyn is wearing an FBI jacket. Am I safe? Did they save me?

“Cover this shit up, Copper. Ride back to Animal’s club with Filter. I’m getting her the hell out of here.”

Cover it up?

Copper—the fucking dirty Fed—nods, his features somber. “Fine, but you’retakingher? Why, Koyn?”

Koyn practically snarls and he grips my naked thighs hard like I might run away. “You know fucking why.”

Koyn

Blaire. Blaire. Blaire.

When I looked into the girl’s deep brown eyes—the color of how Ellie used to drink her coffee—my mind cracked. Right down the fucking middle. Blood covered her face. She was half naked. And her makeup was running from her tears.

That motherfucker was going to rape her.

Just like his father did my daughter.

Just. Like. Blaire.

I had plans for Putnam’s son. Dark, twisted, nefarious plans. Plans that involved strapping Putnam to a chair so he could watch as I shaved off every inch of his son’s flesh with a dull pocketknife.

But the moment I saw the girl, I wasn’t Koyn.

I was Dad.

Husband.

Protector.

The threat stood between me and Blaire. It had to be eliminated.

She’s not Blaire, though.

I buried my baby girl ten years ago beside her mother in a small cemetery in Pearland, Texas, beneath a willow tree.

“Please let me go,” the girl begs. “Please.”

“It’s not safe,” I practically hiss.

I walk back into the bar area and it’s a fucking bloodbath. We need to just torch the place. When Dragon’s eyes widen, I realize the girl’s still naked.

Fuck.

I jerk her off my shoulder and put her on her feet.

“Don’t move.” My harsh order makes her tremble, but she nods, her bottom lip wobbling. I yank off my cut and toss it on a table so I can pull off my long-sleeved black Henley. “You’re going to put this on.”

---