Page 206 of Outlaws of Tulsa

Sure enough, Cove grins at the guy, a smile I’ve certainly never seen before, and gestures for the bathroom. Is he fucking kidding me right now? The larger guy stands up, slings a possessive arm over Cove’s shoulders, and guides him to the bathroom.

I slam my beer down with a hard clank that earns me several stares. Katana grips my elbow, leaning in, and hisses, “Don’t.”

Ignoring my best friend, I slide off the stool, storming into the bathroom after them. I find Cove sitting on the counter with the bearded fuckface standing between his parted thighs. Their mouths are all over each other—demanding and hungry.

I see fucking red.

Pouncing on the bearded guy, I grab him in a headlock, snarling at him. Cove bellows at me, his voice echoing off the cinderblock walls, but I ignore him. I tighten my grip around this guy’s fat neck, clinging on as he struggles to fight me off and gasp for air. The moment he loses consciousness, we hit the floor hard. I shove the big fucker off me and rise to my feet. I’m just unsheathing my knife when Cove gets in my face, grabbing me by the cut.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demands, his spittle hitting my face.

“It’s not playtime, Baby Prospect.” I bring the blade of my knife to his neck, pressing in just hard enough for him to feel how sharp it is but not break the skin. “Get the fuck off me.”

Cove smacks my hand back, sending my knife clattering to the tile floor. “You started this, Dragon. I was getting information and you interrupted—”

“He was going to fuck you for it!” The rage inside of me doesn’t seem to simmer but instead boils over. “The guy is twice your size!”

Cove’s blue eyes are icy and cold as he glowers at me. I know he hates me, but I don’t give a fuck. He can get over it. His method of obtaining information was reckless and stupid.

“I can handle myself,” he spits out, sounding so much like Stormy I nearly laugh.

I grab his throat, spinning us so his back is against the cinderblock wall, my hips pinning him in place. “No. You can’t.”

Fear briefly ripples over his features before it’s once again chased away by anger. Since the fucker has been working out, he’s not quite the boy I once overpowered in a cage. No, there’s a little power thrumming through him.

“Let go of me, Dragon, or so help me…” He trails off, his words clipped and sharp.

“Or you’ll what?” When he doesn’t respond, I bring my mouth to his ear. “That’s right. You’ll do nothing because you can’t. You’re just a fucking kid.”

He tries to take a swing at me, but I’m quicker, grabbing both wrists and slamming them to the wall. His yelp—cowed and resigned—makes my dick twitch.

“Know what I think?” I chuckle as I drop my gaze to his parted lips. “I think you like being at my mercy.”

“Fuck. You.”

“You’d like that too.” I run my nose along his, reveling in the sharp hiss of air he sucks in. “Right?”

“Touch one hair on my head and I will murder you in your sleep.”

The disgust seeping into his words has me recoiling. It reminds me of the day I was introduced to Night Giant after I was taken. Back then, I’d been a sixteen-year-old kid filled with false bravado. I thought my strength from playing basketball and my big mouth would be enough to keep the monsters at bay.

Boy, was I wrong.

Night Giant only saw it as incentive to want to break me.

“I’m not like him,” I mutter to myself. “I’m not.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Our conversation is interrupted when someone bursts into the bathroom. I release Cove to pick my knife back up, swiveling to face the newest threat.

Nees.

“Katana is beating the shit out of some dude in the parking lot. Time to roll,” he barks out before rushing out of the bathroom.

I race after him, ready to give Katana backup, though I know he can handle his own shit. Sure enough, once outside, he’s kicking some guy in his ribs.

“Need help?” I ask, squatting down beside the groaning dude.

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