Page 14 of Outlaws of Tulsa

Most everyone’s in the garage, working on shit, when Copper and Halo strut in with their laptops. From the leather couch that sits in a corner, I nod at them to join me. Stormy is practically dry humping Filter from behind as he attempts to change the oil on his bike. Bizzy stares at her ass like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. I’m thankful to get a reprieve from this shit.

“Find anything?” I ask, blowing out smoke and stubbing my cigarette out in the ashtray on the table in front of me.

It’s cool this late afternoon because of the morning thunderstorm, so it feels nice sitting in the garage and listening to classic rock Payne has playing on the stereo. Copper and Halo drop down beside me on either side.

“Anything from Dragon?”

“Yeah,” Halo grunts. “He’s on his way. Had to fix his hair.”

Copper snorts. “Fucking pussy.”

The pussy in question saunters into the garage, grinning like a goddamn fool. He has his own laptop tucked under his arm. If he were walking down Rodeo Drive, they’d think he was modeling for a fucking biker clothing line. He doesn’t even look like a real biker. If I didn’t know what a crazy-ass psychopath he was, I’d think he was a goddamn poser too.

He pushes away the ashtray and sits down on the coffee table in front of me, his green eyes glittering with delight. “Hey, Prez.”

“Did you bathe in Axe aftershave before coming out here?” I complain. “You fucking reek, man.”

He smirks. “I smell lickable. Ask Stormy.”

“He does smell lickable,” she confirms from across the garage.

This earns her a swat to her ass by Filter.

“Whatever,” I grumble, eager to get this shit on with. “What did you three amigos find?”

“We can save the best for last,” Dragon says in a cryptic way that makes me want to shake out everything he knows right this second.

Copper launches into his findings before I get the chance. He pulls open his laptop and shows me a series of pictures. “There’s an open case on him in Texas. A string of murders. Teenage girls. Brutally beaten and raped. DNA matches Putnam. But once he took the kid and fell off the map, the case grew cold. There’s a warrant out for him, but nothing else in the database.”

And Ellie and Blaire’s murders aren’t even on that list, because at the time, we didn’t know who the fuck did this shit.

“Halo?”

“Putnam’s name pops up with my military contacts too. Brody says the border security was having a huge issue with a local El Paso MC gang around a decade ago, but then they all just vanished.” Halo taps on the screen. “BBBs.”

Copper clutches my shoulder. “We know you were responsible for the elimination of the BBBs in El Paso, so that’s not new, but what we didn’t know was what exactly they were doing over there. Halo said his guy Brody said they were smuggling in weapons from Mexico to sell to private contractors.”

“Private contractors?”

“Firms kind of like the one you owned,” Copper says. “Those private contractors had gigs with the NSA and were basically selling smuggled weapons back to the government at astronomical prices. All in the name of national defense.”

“Putnam was with the BBBs who’d been paid to run guns, but after what happened to your family, and then the subsequentslaying of their entire chapter, he ghosted out of there,” Halo tells me. “Poof.”

“I know your next thought is back on Putnam and where he went,” my brother says, “but I wanted more information on these private contractors. So I did some digging and found a handful we still need to check out. Putnam was obviously in with someone and I want to know who. It might lead us to where he’s at now.”

Dragon, who’d been quiet until this point, leans forward, grinning his boy band smile at me, a dark curl of hair falling over his brow. “While you dinosaurs were roaming the databases, I did a little social media stalking. Found this.” He shows me his laptop screen. “Putnam is old like you fuckers, so he doesn’t have any accounts, but his son…this has to be him.”

Junior “Milk” Putnam.

He pulls up a picture of some kid who has the same dirty blond hair and icy blue eyes I remember. The kid looks just like Putnam did back then. Those eyes. Gleaming with intent. I fist my hand, wanting to punch the fucking screen. Instead, I study his black leather cut.

Roaring River MC.

“Arkansas,” Dragon says. “I looked at some of his pictures and there are a bunch with him at a bar with some chick. She tags him in a lot of shit. The bar’s four hours from here outside of Little Rock.”

“You think Putnam’s there?” I growl.

“Roaring River MC doesn’t have any legitimate shit like the Royal Bastards MC, so there’s nothing official online for them, but I did message that girl. Juicy.” Dragon snorts. “She’s just a club slut. I told her I was looking for a badass chapter to patch into in the area. The bitch just blabbed all about their club. When Church is. When they fucking party. Who to come see…” His grin turns sinister. “I asked her if Milk was her boyfriend.She said they fuck around but she’s not married to him or anything and if I’m cute she might suck my dick.” He shrugs.

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