Dragon Royal Bastards MC (Tulsa, OK) - Page 9

Cove smacks my hand back, sending my knife clattering to the tile floor. “You started this, Dragon. I was getting information and you interrupted—”

“He was going to fuck you for it!” The rage inside of me doesn’t seem to simmer but instead boils over. “The guy is twice your size!”

Cove’s blue eyes are icy and cold as he glowers at me. I know he hates me, but I don’t give a fuck. He can get over it. His method of obtaining information was reckless and stupid.

“I can handle myself,” he spits out, sounding so much like Stormy I nearly laugh.

I grab his throat, spinning us so his back is against the cinderblock wall, my hips pinning him in place. “No. You can’t.”

Fear briefly ripples over his features before it’s once again chased away by anger. Since the fucker has been working out, he’s not quite the boy I once overpowered in a cage. No, there’s a little power thrumming through him.

“Let go of me, Dragon, or so help me…” He trails off, his words clipped and sharp.

“Or you’ll what?” When he doesn’t respond, I bring my mouth to his ear. “That’s right. You’ll do nothing because you can’t. You’re just a fucking kid.”

He tries to take a swing at me, but I’m quicker, grabbing both wrists and slamming them to the wall. His yelp—cowed and resigned—makes my dick twitch.

“Know what I think?” I chuckle as I drop my gaze to his parted lips. “I think you like being at my mercy.”

“Fuck. You.”

“You’d like that too.” I run my nose along his, reveling in the sharp hiss of air he sucks in. “Right?”

“Touch one hair on my head and I will murder you in your sleep.”

The disgust seeping into his words has me recoiling. It reminds me of the day I was introduced to Night Giant after I was taken. Back then, I’d been a sixteen-year-old kid filled with false bravado. I thought my strength from playing basketball and my big mouth would be enough to keep the monsters at bay.

Boy, was I wrong.

Night Giant only saw it as incentive to want to break me.

“I’m not like him,” I mutter to myself. “I’m not.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Our conversation is interrupted when someone bursts into the bathroom. I release Cove to pick my knife back up, swiveling to face the newest threat.

Nees.

“Katana is beating the shit out of some dude in the parking lot. Time to roll,” he barks out before rushing out of the bathroom.

I race after him, ready to give Katana backup, though I know he can handle his own shit. Sure enough, once outside, he’s kicking some guy in his ribs.

“Need help?” I ask, squatting down beside the groaning dude.

The guy whimpers and then pukes near my boots. I rise to my feet, planting my foot on his cheek to keep him from standing up.

Katana’s nearly black eyes flash with anger. “He was hitting on his girl.”

I follow Katana’s stare to a redhead with freckles and a black eye. She can’t be a day over eighteen.

“Go home to your mommy,” I tell the girl.

She doesn’t have to be told twice and scurries away. Katana cracks his neck, but his anger has faded. Usually it’s the other way around. He has to keep me in check. But there isn’t a hot button quicker on Katana than a man putting his hands on a woman.

“Anything on the guy inside?” Katana asks.

“Didn’t give him a chance to talk.”

The guy under my boot whines. I grind my foot into his cheek, causing him to howl.

Nees chuckles as he approaches. “Smells like piss. I think you made him piss his pants, Dragon.”

“What the fuck did I do?” I groan, sneering down at the man who indeed smells like piss. “I didn’t even have a chance to use my knife.”

“What now?” Cove demands, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling my way. “No one knows anything around here.”

Despite all his bitchiness and always mouthing, he still looks too pretty to be a part of this MC.

Like you once were?

I ignore that thought. Cove is nothing like me. Even before…everything…I was made of tough shit. Cove is just a weak kid.

“We go back inside, have another drink, and keep our dicks in our fucking pants, Baby Prospect.” I smirk at him. “You think you can do that?”

His response is a middle finger in my face.

Why are we still here?

The fuck if I know.

That’s right, idiot, it was your idea.

I scowl as I down the rest of my Jack. The bar has gotten busier as the night wears on, reminding me of why I wanted to stay. Bermuda had good intel about this place being on Max Corsetti’s path. I have a hunch that if we wait it out, we might come across something useful.

Against my own will, my eyes seek out Cove. His cheeks are pink from drinking too much and his blond hair is messy. Whenever Nees talks to him, he flashes him a bright smile before trying to hide it by biting on his lip. As much as I’ve been watching the people in this bar, I’ve equally had my eyes on Cove.

Tags: K. Webster Romance
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