Page 235 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“Do I need to call Stormy to get you two to stop acting like idiots?” Koyn asks, directing his question at Copper and Nees. “She’s all but begged me to let her hold Church one day.”

Payne groans, shaking his head and burying his face in his palms. “That shit would go to her head.”

“Your ol’ lady like to boss you around in bed?” Bizzy asks Copper. “Do you call her Mommy?”

Copper flings an ink pen at Bizzy, nailing him right between the eyes. He grumbles, rubbing at the spot, and shoots Copper a death glare.

“Where’s your buddy, man?” Filter asks, nodding at Katana. “Usually you two are joined at the hip.”

Nees smothers a laugh and fiddles with his pocketknife to keep from giving away my secret. I can feel heat flooding my cheeks, making them turn bright red.

Katana gives Filter a shrug and doesn’t betray his best friend by looking at me. It’s clear he knows where Dragon holed up last night, but he’s not letting on.

“Seriously,” Bizzy says, elbowing me. “Who was she? Do I know her? Was it Erin? I bet it was Erin.”

“It wasn’t Erin,” Bermuda snaps, showing a rare flash of anger. “Don’t be an asshole, Biz.”

Pressing on, Bizzy whistles and waggles his brows. “What about Calla?”

“Dude,” I hiss. “My twin? Are you fucking insane?”

Bizzy cackles. “I knew it was Erin. Gibson, you owe me twenty bucks.”

Bermuda snags Halo’s pack of cigarettes and launches it at Bizzy, who barely dodges it.

“Man, I don’t know,” Gibson mutters under his breath. “Something’s not adding up.”

A formidable presence fills the doorway, sending the temperature in the room skyrocketing. Against my better judgment, I dart my eyes to find Dragon walking into the room. He’s still wearing the sweats from before and is shirtless.

Fuck. Me.

“Dude, you got laid too?” Bizzy demands, throwing his hands up in the air. “Unbelievable. I swear I’m never going to get my dick wet. All this working out and shit was a waste.”

Dragon stalks over to Bizzy’s chair and grabs the back of it, rolling him away from the table. “Move.”

“What? No. I was here first, dickhead,” Bizzy throws back.

“You’re in my seat,” Dragon growls.

“Since fucking when?”

“Since today, dumbass. Move before I send you through the fucking window.”

“Prez,” Bizzy whines. “Seriously?”

My face flames hotter and I can’t look at Koyn. He’s watching the entire situation unfold with intense scrutiny. The man is smart and I know he’s already putting it together.

Dragon makes good on his threat, shoving Bizzy so hard his chair slams against the window and a crack forms from the impact and splinters like a web.

“Bermuda,” Koyn grumbles.

“Already texting them,” Bermuda mutters back.

We’ve broken more windows at the clubhouse than humanly possible. Someone is always throwing something or someone through glass, which is why Bermuda has the window repair company on speed dial.

Dragon saunters over to an empty chair and drags it past everyone into Bizzy’s vacated spot. He sits in his seat, swiveling so he can stare at my profile. I’m going to kill him.

“Holy shit,” Filter mutters. “Is this fucking for real?”

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