Page 277 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“We’ll be there. The two of us. You let Mitch go and we’ll stay.” Dragon cracks his neck and fire gleams in his green eyes. “Vengeance is coming.”

Night Giant makes a salacious lip-smacking sound. “Oh, I’m counting on it. I love the pretty way your lips part when you orgasm—”

His words are silenced when Dragon throws the phone so hard at the window, it shatters through the glass on its way out.

Dragon holds his hand out to me. “Let’s go kill this piece of shit.”

I take his hand. “Fucking finally.”

Dragon

The building seems smaller than I remember. When I was just a kid, it seemed like this massive being that had swallowed me whole. For so long, I rotted away in the belly of the beast, slowly being devoured piece by piece by the parasite who had his fangs in me.

Night Giant.

Leo or Vaughn or whatever other fucking alias he has. No matter what his real name is, he’ll always be Night Giant to me. The one who tried to take away my life, my body, and my soul.

“We don’t have to do this,” Cove says from beside me. “We can get Copper to call in his contacts. They can take him out and get to your brother.”

For as simple as that sounds, I know it’s anything but. Night Giant hasn’t remained off the grid for so long by being stupid. He’s smart and calculating. Detailed and efficient. It’s not a surprise to me that he’s an accountant.

“It’ll take too long,” I mumble, unable to tear my gaze from the rusting, metal monstrosity before us. “Who knows what he’ll do to Mitch. I don’t want to find out.”

Cove shudders, no doubt imagining the worst. Night Giant destroyed me and I’ll be damned if I let him do the same thing to my little brother.

“Fine,” Cove concedes, “but the second he gives him up, we’ll do everything we can to take him out. The guys will be nearby and ready. It’ll be over quickly.”

Despite his sure words, the quaver in his voice gives him away. He’s nervous as hell that this is going to end badly. I’m pretty certain it will…for Night Giant. To see him bleed and hurt for everything he’s done to me will be invigorating and freeing. I need this. I need to kill him with my own two hands. Bury my monster for good.

“Let’s go,” I grunt out, lifting my chin toward the door. The same door I escaped from all those years ago.

Cove stays in step beside me, a strong presence despite his smaller frame. He’s in bitch boy mode, but this time his claws are aimed at someone other than me.

We step into the building, the creaking of the door on its hinges much louder than I remember. Everything is just as it was before. An eerie wave of confusion washes over me. Time seems to have rewound to the past. I don’t feel like Dragon. I feel like Chase, caught in that fucker’s web.

“This way,” I grit out, forcing my feet to move. I walk between stacked storage containers until I come to the place I called home for nearly two years. “Fuck.”

A heap of clothes sits on the soiled mattress—the same fucking mattress. I remember the blood stain in shape of an elephant. A chill shivers down my spine at the memory.

Cove walks over to the mattress and lifts a T-shirt. I recognize it as one I’d seen Mitch wear in one of his social media pictures. I stalked every single post of his and remember it all.

“Where is he?” Cove demands.

“Come on,” I grunt, waving for him to follow. “There was a place Night Giant took me sometimes.”

Cove’s fingers run down my spine and his palm spreads out over my lower back. “Breathe, Dragon.”

I suck in a sharp breath, thankful for the cool oxygen filling my lungs. “I’m breathing. Still alive, BP. Can’t get rid of me yet.”

He smirks at me. “Don’t plan on ever getting rid of you, asshole.”

If I weren’t in my own personal hell, I’d capture his sharp jaw in my brutal grip and claim him with a fiery kiss. But with Night Giant lurking with my little brother, I can’t afford not to stay focused.

We walk down a series of corridors made by a careful arrangement of stacked shipping containers that go all the way to the incredibly high ceiling of the monolithic building. As we reach a dead end, forcing us to go left or right, I hold a finger to my lips, craning my ear to listen.

Breathing.

The heavy kind of breathing when someone is terrified.

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