“Night Giant is in Arkansas,” Dragon bites out, his words so vicious, I flinch. “Having the time of his fucking life.”
“He’s hiding out in a janky-ass trailer,” Koyn spits back. “Not exactly the Ritz Carlton.”
“But he’s alive…” Dragon’s entire body thrums with violent energy. I have the urge to put my hand on his thigh to calm him down. Instead, I fist it in my lap. “Alive and breathing. Two things he doesn’t deserve.”
“I understand what you want—”
Koyn’s words are cut off when Dragon slams a fist down on the conference table with enough force coffee splashes out of Payne’s steaming mug, causing him to curse in annoyance. Koyn arches a brow and crosses his arms over his massive chest. He nods at Dragon, waiting for him to continue.
“His time is up, Prez. I’m going to kill him.”
Koyn studies Dragon for a long beat before letting out a defeated sigh. “Fine. But you’re not doing this alone. We’ll figure out a plan and do it together. Understood?”
Dragon huffs but doesn’t argue.
“Right,” Koyn continues. “Now that we have psycho torture checked off on our daily agenda, let’s move the fuck along.”
Dragon
Now that Prez has moved on to other matters of club business and Bermuda babbles about finances, I refocus my attention back on Cove. The bruises all over his neck visible for all to see make my blood run hot in my veins, unable to focus on anything else.
With the morning sun streaming in, dancing across the massive mahogany conference table, and ending on Cove’s soft profile, he is angelic. Something pure and innocent and untouched. Except he’s not. I defiled him the entire night, not allowing either of us to sleep more than a couple hours at most.
He belongs to the devil now.
My chair creaks as I lean forward, needing to be closer to him so I can smell him. I can feel curious eyes on me, but I don’t give a fuck.
“Can you not?” Cove hisses, shooting me a go to hell look that could melt glaciers.
“What?”
He rolls his eyes at my feigned innocence. Grabbing hold of the arm of his chair, I drag him closer. The scowl he wears deepens, but the pinkening of his cheeks gives him away.
“Is this going to be a problem?” Koyn demands.
“No,” Cove clips out. “I can leave.”
I grab his bicep before he can stand, squeezing to let him know he’s not going anywhere. “No problem here, Prez.”
The muscle along Cove’s jaw ticks furiously. I want to lick it. Lick him. Suck every sweet part of him into my mouth.
“As entertaining as this is,” Filter grunts, “some of us missed breakfast. Can we wrap this shit up so I can fucking eat?”
“And some of us are going to lose our breakfast…”
It might be a joke, but I’ve had enough of Bizzy’s shit this morning. I jerk away from Cove and am on my feet stalking toward Bizzy’s sloppy ass, wishing I had my knives and not my two fists, within the next second. Grabbing him by his thick neck, I drag him out of his chair—which is no easy feat since he’s a fat fuck—and snarl in his face.
“Are you a homophobic redneck piece of shit?” I ask, my tone low and deadly.
“W-What? Fuck. No, Dragon. No, man. It was a j-joke.” His eyes dart back and forth, pleading for me to understand.
“Let him go,” Koyn barks.
I squeeze my palm around his throat, watching his eyes bug out and his flesh turn purple. Unlike how Cove gets that orgasmic look on his pretty face, Bizzy looks like a pimple about to burst.
Katana materializes beside me. His sudden presence has me releasing Bizzy and glancing over at him. He smirks, amused that Bizzy got put in his place, but still there to keep me from doing something stupid like killing Bizzy in front of everyone.
“Apologize,” I say to Bizzy, my eyes not leaving Katana. My best friend grounds me. I’m tethered to reality when he’s near, not floating into the fucked-up abyss.
“Eh, sorry?” Bizzy blurts out.
Breaking eye contact with Katana, I pounce on Bizzy again, my forehead pressing to his as I stare him down, letting him feel the vibration of my fury rippling through me like electricity.
“Do better.” I don’t blink or move away. “I said do better.”
“Fuck. I, uh, I’m sorry for disrespecting you, man.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think about me, Bizzy,” I spit out, spraying his overgrown beard. “Him.”
The room goes silent aside from Bizzy’s heavy breathing.
“BP, deal with your problem,” Koyn snaps. “Now.”
Cove curses and I feel him approach from behind. The hairs on my arms stand on end as he nears. He touches my lower bare back, his fingers softly brushing over the skin. I flutter my eyes closed, relishing in the way it feels.
“Say it,” I whisper to Bizzy.