Page 36 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“No,” I growl, biting my fingers into her jaw. “You fucking can’t. When you’re here, you will fuck no one. If you want to fuck again one day, I suggest you tell me who the hell your dad is so I can send you on your goddamn way, brat.”

I release her jaw to grab her shorts, pulling them up her ass crack. I smack her ass cheek hard, reveling in the surprised wail that escapes her. Her thighs clench around my waist.

“Keep talking,” I warn. “I’ll whip your ass all night if I have to.”

Her bottom lip wobbles and tears pool in her brown eyes. I’m thrust back to the night when Blaire stared at me with teary eyes silently pleading for me to save her from the bad man. Just like this. Except Hadley needs saving from herself. Once again, I pull her to my chest and stroke my fingers through her hair.

“You ready to behave?” I ask, my palm sliding down her back to gently pat her exposed ass.

“I guess.”

It’s the best answer I could have hoped for.

“Good girl. Now go have fun. With Stormy. No one else. Stay away from those men.”

I knock back another shot, the world in front of me blurring. Ever since I had to take the belt to Hadley’s ass, my mind has been on my wife and daughter. Fuck, I miss them. Having Hadley around makes my heart yearn to have my little girl back. It’s majorly screwing with my head.

Bizzy started a huge ass bonfire and everyone that’s left is sitting around it getting shitfaced. The women have gone home with their children, leaving us Royal Bastards with a few stragglers, including Randy. Stormy is in Filter’s lap, straddling him, and dry fucking him for all to see. My eyes, though, are on Hadley.

After our come to Jesus meeting, she changed into a pair of sweats. She sits curled up in the chair, a blanket wrapped around her, staring into the fire. Bermuda sits close enough that his foot taps against her chair in a steady way that seems as though he’s rocking her. Dragon has lost his fire and animatedly tells a story about this orgy he was a part of when he was at church camp. There’s so much wrong with his story, I don’t even intervene. Just let him tell us some wild shit that’ll have us sent right to hell along with him.

“Prez,” Gibson says, passing me another shot.

I suck this one down and lick my lips. Hadley’s stare locks on me. When she yawns, a sense of fatherly duty washes over me.

She needs to get to bed.

I rise unsteadily on my feet and stumble. Stormy cries out when Filter grabs her hips, sitting her back in her own chair. He stands and stalks over to me. I try to shake him off, but he’s not having any of it.

“What’re we doing, man?” he asks, his voice low.

“My little girl needs to go to bed.”

His fingers bite into my bicep. “Koyn, man, that’s not her.”

I yank my arm from his grip, anger surging through me. “The fuck she ain’t.”

“That’s Hadley,” he says in a calm tone.

Hadley.

Not Blaire.

“She’s mine,” I argue, heat flaring inside me.

“Not your daughter, though.”

“I still want her in bed,” I snap.

“As long as it’s not yours, I can help with that.”

“The fuck you say?” I snarl, shoving his chest. “Did you just accuse me of some pervert shit with my little girl?” I shove him again, the liquor fueling me on. “I’m not some sick child predator, Ryan.”

Filter flinches at his real name.

“Koyn, dude, calm down.” He reaches for me and I swing at him.

Crack.

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