Page 249 of Outlaws of Tulsa

I leave Dragon to his mutilation of the corpse, turning my attention to Prez. His features are hard as he listens on the other line.

Pushing past Katana, I stand beside Koyn, frowning at him. While he listens to the person on the other end of the cheap burner phone, his fingers are flying over the screen of his own phone. The hairs on my neck stand up.

This isn’t good.

Bile creeps up my throat. Whatever he has to say, I know I’m not going to like it. I’ve never seen Koyn look so…furious? Disgusted? Distraught?

“No,” Koyn snarls into the burner phone. “Not just no, but fuck no.”

He ends the call, tossing the phone onto the couch. I gnaw on my bottom lip, waiting for him to spill the beans. His fingers spear into his dark hair and he tugs at the ends as he paces the small living room.

“What did he want?” I croak out.

Koyn’s glare lands on me. “To speak to Dragon.”

The sick, wet ripping sounds of flesh being torn apart halt almost instantly. A deafening silence falls over the entire trailer. Then, creaking footsteps thud our way until Dragon appears, blood splattered and green eyes glowing with rage.

“Who was it?” Dragon demands.

“I’ve got Bermuda trying to track the call.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Dragon whips his head my way. “Who was it?”

I frown. “Him.”

His jaw clenches. “Who, Baby Prospect?”

The phone rings again before we can answer. Both Dragon and Koyn dive for it at once. Though Koyn is bigger and terrifying, Dragon is fucking crazy. They scuffle, crashing intofurniture as they fight for the phone. Dragon elbows Koyn in the throat before snagging the phone and swiping it to answer.

He doesn’t speak, just breathes heavily, letting the other person on the line know he’s there. Whatever is said on the other line has Dragon swallowing hard. For a second, he looks like a scared little teenage boy, not the man he is.

We didn’t get the monster.

No, the monster, it seems has been two steps ahead of us all along.

Dragon

“Recognize my voice, Caught?”

I do. I fucking do.

The man I killed—who I thought was Night Giant—was nothing more than a lookalike. Not the real thing. A fraud.

“Hiding is a real bitch move,” I growl. “Where are you, big guy? I’m coming for you.”

His deep, mocking chuckle makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. “That’s no way to speak to your master, Caught.”

“You’re nothing but a target to me. Dead fucking meat just like your piece of shit stand-in.”

“So eager to take my place that brother of mine. The bikers you paid to watch me never noticed when we switched places right under their noses at the little grocery store. Ahh, my brother always was eager to please me. He’ll be missed.”

“Did you fuck him too?”

“Oh, Caught. If you were here right now, I’d punish you for your filthy mouth.”

“I’m coming for you, motherfucker.”

It isn’t until Cove takes my bloodied hand in his that I realize I’m trembling. Having his touch grounds me. Brings me focus. Swallowing down the fear Night Giant always seems to instill in me, I wait to hear what he wants.