Page 47 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“Fuck off.”

“Sorry. Can’t help you there. I’m on babysitting duty until otherwise noted.”

“You listened to us?” I accused. “You are a pervert.”

“No,” he growls. “Jacking off while listening would have been perverted. I just listened. My dick was soft and safe inside my jeans. Happy?”

“No, you’re still sick.”

“You’re not in fucking high school or Disneyland, PG. You’re at Koyn’s compound. Everything we do is sick in some form. It’s fucking rich coming from you. Acting like you’re some prissy bitch. Like you weren’t sleeping with the enemy’s son.”

“Why is Magna the enemy?”

He shrugs. “Not my story to tell.”

“Useless bastard.”

“Useless to you because I don’t want your teenage cunt. But not useless to Prez.”

“Want a fucking cookie? I’ll have Bermuda put it on the shopping list.”

“Did your daddy ever wash that mouth out with soap? You’re mouthy as shit, PG.”

I scowl at him and shove him before stalking back toward the house. He’s soundless, but I feel his oppressive presence behind me.

“If I tell you who I am, you’ll just let me walk out of here?” I ask over my shoulder.

He laughs. “You’re not walking anywhere. Prez will deliver you himself.”

The thought of leaving and going back home makes me shudder. Nope. I quite like my freedom, even if it means being held in a swanky Man Mansion surrounded by trees. There are worse prisons—like under Magna’s nose.

“Get lost, loser.”

“Nice try,” he says with a sigh, stopping his stalking after me the moment I reach the back patio. “I’ll be around, little girl. Always watching. Remember that.”

Fucking prick.

Koyn

“Two of Magna’s guys got out.”

I lift my gaze from my computer to frown at Copper. “How do you know?”

“I pulled the report after the fire to make sure nothing incriminating was left behind. The notes showed a picture of the row of bikes out front, but a few were missing from the formation. After pulling the tags on them all, I found that Junior’s was there. Putnam was off the grid, so his bike must have been under an alias and one of the ones missing.”

“How many others?”

“Two.”

“So he’s got two of his men.” I scrub my palm over my face and sigh. “They haven’t popped up anywhere. You’ve called all the local chapters?”

“And checked out the local police databases. They ghosted out of there.”

“Putnam may have disappeared once before, but he won’t do it again. Not like that. This time he’s running from me, not the law. He’s too arrogant to stay hidden for long.”

Copper and Halo nod.

“Where’s Bermuda?” I ask, scanning my light group of men today.

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