Page 33 of Outlaws of Tulsa

Easy makes meuneasy.

My hackles rise and I search out the threats. What’s hiding behind the false sense of security? Dragon sits in a lawn chair, kicked back and talking to the guy named Katana. They’re both sharpening knives. Definitely the threat in this homey scene.

A little girl with brown pigtails runs over to Dragon and bounces into his lap. He grins at her, dropping his knife into the grass to tickle her.

He may look like an adoring uncle, but I’m not fooled.

Stormy prances over to Filter, who emerges from the garage, grease smeared on his bare chest. I rake my gaze down the golden god’s body, appreciating the view for a moment, before looking for him.

Prez.

Koyn the boyfriend murdering bastard.

As I search through the growing crowd of people, I take note of the property. Trees surroundthe compound. The house is massive and so is the garage beside it. The back patio is covered and filled with chairs. I walk to the edge of the house and peek around the corner. A giant pool fills the space and to my surprise there are kids already diving in. It must be heated.

What kind of Twilight Zone am I in?

Man Mansion. Giggling kids. Heated pools. Fucking brisket.

The shindigs we had with the Roaring River MCs were wild and insane and filthy. This reminds me too much of a time when I lived at home and was part of a real family. The urge to escape intensifies.

I need a plan.

One that doesn’t involve blatantly sneaking off. Because I’m not stupid. I see the cameras. I notice the way Dragon’s smile is for the little girl, but his green eyes are locked on mine. It doesn’t get past me that Filter watches me like a hawk even as he gropes Stormy’s ass. These guys aren’t your usual run-of-the-mill bikers. They’re smarter and more calculating. Vicious monsters who choose to hide behind smiles and money.

I’m not fooled.

I gaze at the woods, wishing it were that easy. It’s then I see someone. Hidden in the shadows. It’s the one they call Payne.

“What the fuck?” I mutter. What a creep! How long has he been standing there watching me?

I beam at him and give him my middle finger.I see you, asshole.Problem is, they all see me. My plan has to be smarter.More detailed. Intricate. I need to warm these people up, earn their trust, and then skip the fuck out of town when they least expect it.

For tonight, I’ll drink, maybe dance a little, and eat more of that fluffy fruity nonsense.

Koyn

Isnap my laptop closed and pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. For hours I’ve stared at this screen hunting for Putnam. I’m tired as fuck but tonight is the Q. I need to get out there and make an appearance.

With a grumble, I leave my office and saunter through the empty house toward the back where the party will be in full swing. It’s dark out and Gibson is already entertaining the masses with his own rendition of Bad Company’s “Shooting Star” on his favorite Gibson that he named Bocephus—a replica of Hank Williams Jr.’s all-maple guitar from the ’70s. His deep, raspy voice has a Southern twang but with just enough of a rock and roll growl to be cool. He’s got his own little fan club—all female.

We’re all used to Stormy’s flirty ass shaking her tits and singing along. What we’re not used to isher.

I stop dead in my tracks.

Anger swells up inside me, hot and violent.

Fucking Hadley.

She’s wearing a pair of Stormy’s pink booty shorts that barely cover her ass. Her fucking cheeks are hanging out like it’s not goddamn November. The black Pantera sweatshirt she wears hangs off her shoulder and from this vantage point, it reveals nothing but bare skin. I don’t see a bra strap and for some reason that sets me off.

“What the fuck is going on?” I snarl, stalking over to her.

She swivels around as I approach, her fingers pushing up her hair as she works her hips perfectly in tune with the music. Her eyes are glassy—a telltale sign someone’s been allowing her young ass to drink. The bitch winks at me and then turns her back to me, continuing her seductive dance.

Bermuda eye-fucks her as he sips on his beer and mutters words to his brother beside him. Bizzy looks seconds from nutting his pants. Filter and Copper seem amused. Katana is disinterested. Payne’s probably watching from the shadows. Fucking Nees is dancing like the little bitch he is. Hell, even Halo’s eyes are glued to her teenage ass.

And Dragon…

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