Page 71 of Outlaws of Tulsa

The rest of the guys think I’m some goddamn hero.

“She’s safer with us,” Bermuda agrees, nodding.

Dragon snorts, popping him in the back of the head hard enough to send his ball cap flying. “Not to rescue, dumbass.”

Copper’s jaw clenches and I can hear his teeth grinding together. “What are your plans exactly with PG?”

“Her name is Nicolette Hadley Genworth. Not PG. Not Pageant Girl. Not Hadley. Not sweetheart or angel. She is a tool,” I growl out. “A tool we’ll use to poke and cut and stab at Genworth until he’s been wrought of every single drop of who he is.”

Dragon’s green eyes glitter with violence—the only one of my men who doesn’t need to be told twice.

The rest need convincing.

“I watched Putnam rape my daughter. My little fucking girl.” My voice cracks. “She begged for me to save her. I was helpless.”

Halo frowns and Bermuda pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Everything I have ever done in this life is to get to this point. To seek justice on the ones who stole from me. Putnam and Genworth are the ones responsible. There will be casualties along the way.” I meet each of their stares with a hard one. “If you want out, rip your patch off now and go. I thought we were brothers.”

No one moves.

“We’re one-percenters. Fucking outlaws. We’re not the heroes in anyone’s goddamn stories. Understand?”

Everyone nods, even Copper.

“This is justice and it will be served.”

More nods.

“We’re going to get her and I’m going to tell you how.”

I’m met with no more resistance. As it should be.

We’re brothers.

Until the end.

Even if it’s a fucking terrible journey.

Hadley

Magna has come by three times this week. Each time, more brutal than the last. He doesn’t seem to care that I completely go blank while he uses my body. To any sane person, it’s rape, but to me, I’m not present for it. If I escape in my head, it didn’t happen.

Nope.

I didn’t have my dead boyfriend’s father inside me. Three times. Did not happen.

It’s funny how easily I can convince myself. In the darkness of my room, I can almost pretend I’m somewhere else. Somewhere warm and safe. Like Koyn’s bed. In his arms.

A happy sigh escapes me.

There are worse men out there than Koyn.

Like my father.

My father, who apparently didn’t think fucking his daughter was enough sin for this lifetime, negotiated my pussy to the highest bidder.

I shudder violently, ignoring the crusted cum still on my thighs. At least with good ol’ Daddy, he uses a condom. Magna is probably infecting me with God knows how many diseases.

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