Page 130 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“Eat your food. Shower. Do whatever the fuck you want except leave.” I shrug and start toward the door. “Just remember your place around here. If you want to be ungrateful for me saving your ass from certain death by the hands of my Royal Bastards brothers, then I’ll happily drop you back on their doorstep. I’m done, Stormy. So fucking done. There are no more free chances with me.”

Stormy

Five Months Later…

Ithought he was fucking with me.

Dying of boredom.

Yeah, right. I’m a captive of a Fed gone bad who’s affiliated with Oklahoma’s most ruthless motorcycle gang. Boredom wasn’t what I anticipated.

I expected Dragon to pounce on me in the middle of the night, his knife cutting me from my throat to my gut before I even knew what happened. I surely thought Koyn would put a bullet in my head by now. Or, at the very least, I expected Copper to go back on his word and fuck me against my will.

Instead, they’ve done nothing.

Copper is diligent about handcuffing me to the bed at night and when he leaves but allows me to roam while he’s here. He speaks the bare minimum to me and buries himself in his work. Sometimes, we end up watching a movie together, but it’s not like it was when I first got here. All interest in me has faded to nothing.

I’m a chore to him.

Annoying.

Something he’ll eventually grow bored of.

But it’s different for me. Because he’s the only person I ever see, I look forward to when he comes home. Not just because I want to be uncuffed so I can take a bathroom break. It’s becauseI crave the sound of his voice and his scent. I need to speak to him more than I need food or to use the toilet.

I hate what he’s turned me into.

This needy, desperate woman who wants her captor to hold her like she’s special to him.

My thoughts drift to Hadley. I basically have to drag information out of Copper when it comes to Hadley, but I always manage to get some answers. His news a few weeks ago shocked me to my core. They got married. Jared “Koyn” Koynakov married little Hadley “PG” Genworth. I knew Koyn had been married in the past, but I never expected him to marry again. Especially not a girl who’s nearly the same age his daughter would have been. I wanted to assume she’d married him under duress, but the picture Copper showed me told a different story. Hadley and Koyn’s kiss in front of the altar of a small church was a picture of perfection. Love and happiness captured in one kiss. A photograph pretty enough to be on a romance cover.

One day, maybe I’ll have that.

If I can ever go from captive handcuffed to a bed to normal human being.

Speaking of captors…

“When’s Daddy getting home, Hansel?”

The dog lifts his head from my thigh and whines. Gently, I stroke my fingers over his head. He must realize Copper’s not here yet because he sighs and lays his head back down. The bed shakes as Gretel joins us. She snuggles up close to the pillows, trying to push her brother away so I’ll pet her instead.

Had you told me I’d enjoy the companionship of two Dobermans six months ago, I would’ve laughed. I was terrified—still am—of dogs. Just not these dogs. They like me and I like them. I’ve caught Copper’s surprised expression a few times when he sees how taken they are with me. Being cuffed to the bed all day makes me feel vulnerable, but having the sibling pupsby my side keeps me calm because they’re the best protectors I could ask for.

A car door slams outside, making both dogs fly off the bed, barking with excitement. My own heart rate skips over itself, eager to see Copper. Most days, he uncuffs me and then disappears to work out. After he’s done his gym routine, he showers and then cooks for me. I wish, for once, he’d give me the time of day. Talk to me like he used to. Touch me, desire me, kiss me. Anything. His aloofness is driving me insane.

His deep voice rumbles through the house as he loves on his dogs. Soon, I hear them raising hell outside when he finally allows them their freedom. Like clockwork, he walks into my bedroom, his eyes anywhere but on me as he fishes his key out of his pocket.

“How was work?” I ask, hoping to get him to converse with me today.

“Work is work,” he grunts.

“Copper, I—”

“I’m going to work out. We can talk later.”

His masculine scent—pine and something uniquely him—engulfs me as he perches on the bed beside me. I drink in his handsome features. Fingertips brush against my wrist, making me shiver. My nipples harden and I can’t even deny my want for this man. I’m so fucked up.

Before he can escape, I grab his muscular, tattooed forearm. Now that it’s almost summer, he wears the sexiest fitted Polo shirts to work that show off every sculpted curve. I bet all the bitches at his work salivate over my man.

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