Page 223 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“Stay the fuck away from me,” I snap, shoving my phone into my pocket.

“Or what?” Dragon taunts. “You send your boyfriend after me?”

The crazed glint in his eyes indicates he’d love that a little too much.

“Go to hell.”

“Been there, Baby Prospect. Remember? We were there together.”

Dragon

The bitchier he gets, the more alive I feel. Like his attitude problem is an injection in my vein—hot, electric, intoxicating. I want to get drunk off his anger and taste the rudeness on his tongue.

“We need information,” Katana says, his voice cutting through my addicted haze.

I step closer to Cove until I’m towering over him and he has to tilt his head back to see me. Grabbing hold of his jaw in my grip, I forcefully turn his head to the side so I have access to his ear. He sucks in a sharp gasp when my lips brush over the shell of his ear.

“I’m coming for you tonight.” I nip at his earlobe. “Be ready.”

He squirms out of my hold and I let him go. My dick is hard as fuck in my jeans. It’s such a confusing sensation—to be turned on and not feel ashamed by it. Instead, it’s invigorating. I crave more of his touch and scent and taste.

His face is bright red and he won’t meet my gaze. I rake my stare over his body, noting the state of his cock as well. Hard. Aching. Desperate for release.

The feeling is mutual, Baby Prospect.

Satisfied by his response, I saunter over to where Katana waits, eyes narrowed on me. I’m behaving erratically—well, erratic for me—so I know he’s worried. But, for the first time in a long time, I feel somewhat normal. Human.

“Cut him loose,” I tell Katana.

Max Corsetti stiffens. I’m sure he’s planning his escape. The fucker isn’t going anywhere. It’s just more fun when they try to run away.

As soon as his bindings and gag are removed, Max darts a quick look to the door. Cove stands in front of it, arms crossed over his chest, looking impressively formidable. I’m fascinated by the fact that Cove is smaller than me but doesn’t cower like most people do. It’s like…he wants to fight with the dragon.

“Time to talk,” I say, pulling out my Chris Reeve Green Beret combat knife from its sheath on my belt. I squat beside the filthy mattress. “That is, while you still have a tongue.”

Max’s eyes widen in comical horror. He has no idea all the clever ways I can prolong his torture. I once peeled all the skin off a man’s feet when we needed information. He howled the worst when I carved around his ankle bones. Fucker passed out by the time I made it up past his knees. Max must sense the violence thrumming through me because he scrambles backward as though his escape is something attainable.

He’s never leaving this property. His bones will turn to ash in the slaughterhouse firepit long after I’ve stolen every last scream he has in him.

“Reno.” I grin viciously at him. “You heard of Loki and his crew?”

He pales and shakes his head. “N-No, man. You got the wrong guy.”

Katana lets out an amused snort. “Right.”

“No, Corsetti, we have the right man. If you can even call yourself that. Soon, you’ll be pissing your panties like a little bitch with nightmares.” I swipe the smile off my face, replacing it with something far more sinister. “Spoiler alert:I’mthe nightmare.”

Max rises to his feet, still backing away from me. He won’t get far. Three against one. His odds are impossible.

“W-What do y-you want from me? Is this about Truly?”

I don’t know who the fuck Truly is, so I shrug. “This is about you fucking over Loki and his brothers. We both know you know exactly what you did.”

“You want money? I have it. Lots of it.” Max’s gaze drifts to the door again. “Whatever you want.”

“K, do I give a fuck about money?”

“Nope,” Katana says. “You do like your boat, though.”

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