Page 72 of Outlaws of Tulsa

The hot shower seems so far away. I want to crawl over to it, but I’m too tired. Sick to my stomach. Broken in the mind. Depression eats me from the inside out. No matter what food they bring me, I turn my nose up to all of it.

I just want to die.

A hot tear leaks from my eye, but I don’t have the energy to swipe it away.

Click.

No.

Magna was just here.

Right?

Or was that yesterday? Hours ago? Minutes ago?

My mind spins as I try to remember.

“Is it still a fairy tale if the dragon comes for the princess instead of a prince?” a cold, evil voice growls, making my hairs stand on end.

“Dragon?”

Fingertips slide up my bare spine. A shiver trembles through me. His hand strokes my hair before gripping me hard and pulling the roots. I stifle a cry.

“Seems you got yourself nice and punished,” Dragon observes. “Daddy took away all your shiny toys.”

“Koyn,” I croak out. “Please.”

“Don’t worry,” he croons in a deceptively calm and soothing voice. “I’ll take you right to him.” He wraps the sheet around me and scoops me up with surprising gentleness. “Let me out,” he barks out through the door.

Someone opens it and Dragon steps through.

“What the fuck?” Payne growls. “She’s a mess.”

“Most princesses are when they’re in their tower,” Dragon explains like he knows me. “To their loyal subjects, they’re perfect. We know better, though. PG is far from perfect.”

I squint against the harsh light and burrow my face into his shoulder. I don’t care what sort of cruel shit he spouts so long as he takes me to Koyn. Away from Magna. Away from my father. Safe.

We descend the stairs quickly and Dragon stops outside of my father’s office. For a brief moment, a whine crawls up my throat as I fear he’s going to hand me back over to my dad. Instead, he makes a clucking of his tongue.

The tapping sounds I’d heard when I first arrived go silent. I crack open my eyes and peek over at the men in the room.

Not Daddy.

Thank God.

Koyn sits in Daddy’s chair like he owns it, fucking around on his computer while Bermuda stands behind him. I’m used to Koyn’s hard stares, but I’m not used to Bermuda’s indifference. He always smiles for me or looks as though he feels sorry for me.

Not this.

Not such cold emptiness.

Something’s wrong.

I start to wriggle in Dragon’s hold, but he’s too strong. He grips me tighter. Koyn barks out a bunch of quick, harsh commands that I’m too delirious to try and interpret. All I know is it has Dragon hurrying me out of my house and into the freezing January air. He carries me over to Copper’s truck. Copper hops out of the front seat and walks around to the rear passenger side door. He opens it and Dragon deposits me on the seat.

“Stay,” Dragon warns before closing the door.

I pull the sheet tighter around me and dart my eyes out the window. Sleet hits the windshield. Glancing around, I see several vehicles I don’t recognize. They didn’t bring their bikes here.

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