Page 207 of Outlaws of Tulsa

The guy whimpers and then pukes near my boots. I rise to my feet, planting my foot on his cheek to keep him from standing up.

Katana’s nearly black eyes flash with anger. “He was hitting on his girl.”

I follow Katana’s stare to a redhead with freckles and a black eye. She can’t be a day over eighteen.

“Go home to your mommy,” I tell the girl.

She doesn’t have to be told twice and scurries away. Katana cracks his neck, but his anger has faded. Usually it’s the other way around. He has to keep me in check. But there isn’t a hot button quicker on Katana than a man putting his hands on a woman.

“Anything on the guy inside?” Katana asks.

“Didn’t give him a chance to talk.”

The guy under my boot whines. I grind my foot into his cheek, causing him to howl.

Nees chuckles as he approaches. “Smells like piss. I think you made him piss his pants, Dragon.”

“What the fuck did I do?” I groan, sneering down at the man who indeed smells like piss. “I didn’t even have a chance to use my knife.”

“What now?” Cove demands, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling my way. “No one knows anything around here.”

Despite all his bitchiness and always mouthing, he still looks too pretty to be a part of this MC.

Like you once were?

I ignore that thought. Cove is nothing like me. Even before…everything…I was made of tough shit. Cove is just a weak kid.

“We go back inside, have another drink, and keep our dicks in our fucking pants, Baby Prospect.” I smirk at him. “You think you can do that?”

His response is a middle finger in my face.

Why are we still here?

The fuck if I know.

That’s right, idiot, it was your idea.

I scowl as I down the rest of my Jack. The bar has gotten busier as the night wears on, reminding me of why I wanted to stay. Bermuda had good intel about this place being on Max Corsetti’s path. I have a hunch that if we wait it out, we might come across something useful.

Against my own will, my eyes seek out Cove. His cheeks are pink from drinking too much and his blond hair is messy. Whenever Nees talks to him, he flashes him a bright smile before trying to hide it by biting on his lip. As much as I’ve been watching the people in this bar, I’ve equally had my eyes on Cove.

How can I not notice him?

Everyone notices him.

Because he’s fucking pretty. Or good-looking. Sexy. Whatever. He’s got Stormy’s sex appeal, but he doesn’t even realize it.

Not that I’m looking or remotely interested.

Night Giant made sure I’d never be into sex ever again. Not normally anyway. Yes, I have urges, but they’re all too fucked up. The only time I can get off is by my own hand after one of my nightmares where I can still feel that fucker’s hands on me.

It’s disgusting.

I’m interested, however, in the way my body burns whenever I look at Cove. The fire shoots its way straight down my spine and through the length of my cock, filling it with blood and making my black jeans tighten.

Back in high school, I called myself bisexual. Mostly, I just liked to fuck around about as much as I liked basketball. It didn’t matter about the sex of the person so long as they were hot or had a nice mouth. All that changed when I ended up with Night Giant. I no longer craved being with someone intimately and began to hate it. Not that I had a choice. When it came to him, he took what he wanted or forced me to obey his every command. He knew my body better than I did.

My dick softens at the thought of being back there. With him. Alone. Naked. Fucking terrified. In pain. I curl my hand into a fist, desperate to end that psychopath once and for all. Flipping my phone over on the bar top, I swipe it open and check my texts. Nothing new from Bermuda. He’s been keeping tabs on Night Giant, who’s been hiding out in a run-down trailer in Arkansas. It’s been fucking forever since we escaped that abandoned hotel. As much as I want to swoop in and slit that asshole’s throat, Koyn won’t let me.

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