Not by choice.
Another one of Night Giant’s fucked-up games.
“What?” I demand, hating how my gaze travels down the column of his throat, admiring the detailed inked dragon on his neck.
“Nothing, Baby Prospect.”
I roll my eyes and storm off, but Dragon is lightning quick. Always faster. Always stronger. Always in my fucking air, breathing. He leans across the bar, snatching my wrist. His larger hand completely encircles my entire arm, the strength in his grip making my bones ache.
“Let go of me,” I snap, meeting his fiery stare with a hate-filled one of my own. “Now.”
“Not until you tell me what’s your problem today.”
Today?
He’s my problem. Every damn day.
“Go to hell,” I grit out.
His eyes narrow and then he holds out his hand. Katana sets my phone in his waiting palm. God, I hate them both.
“Looks like your boyfriend broke up with you.” Dragon pouts out his bottom lip, making fun of me. “Poor little boy.”
I try to yank my arm back, but he’s stronger, his grip only tightening. “He wasn’t my boyfriend. I just sucked his dick from time to time.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw before he releases me. He sets the phone down on the bar top and slides it my way. “Looks like you’re in for a dry spell.”
This. Fucking. Guy.
I sneer at him. “Or maybe I could make you suck it. Since you’re so damn good at it.”
“The fuck you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Cove,” Nees says from nearby. “Walk away.”
I know I’m poking the bear. Or the dragon in this case. But I’m so over him. Meeting Dragon’s stare, I make a crude gesture of jacking off.
That’s when I see it.
The second before he attacks, just like in that cage that night.
His face seems to shutter completely as someone else takes over. The real monster lurking inside him. Because I’ve seen it before, though, I’m already seconds ahead of him. I take off past the bar and through the living room, leaping over the sofa on my trip to the door. His heavy footfalls behind me have my heart ratcheting in my chest. A dragon chasing a fucking kitten. I have claws now. I’m not afraid to use them.
Flinging open the door, I barely make it outside before slamming into a solid chest. Before I can land on my ass, the scent of cigarette smoke and leather invades my nostrils. The air of authority ripples around me as two strong hands grip my shoulders, keeping me upright. Dragon, in all his burning heat, sears into me from behind, but he doesn’t touch me.
“Prez,” I grunt out, withering under Koyn’s hard glare.
“What the hell’s going on between you two?” Koyn demands, his lit cigarette between his lips bouncing as he speaks. His dark eyes dart between me and Dragon behind me. “Hmm?”
“Playing chase.” My words are a low blow, throwing out a play on Dragon’s real name, Chase, but fuck him. I’m so tired of his shit.
Dragon growls. Yes, growls. Like a fucking lunatic, madman wild animal.
“You know what my dad used to do back in the day when Copper and I would be at each other’s throats?” Koyn asks, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Spank you?” Dragon offers, sending more fury rushing through me like a flood of liquid fire.
Koyn chuckles, dark and kind of evil. “He wasn’t that kind of daddy. No, he locked our asses in the shed or the garage or the damn barn. Made us clean up or haul equipment or whatever the hell else needed doing. No rules or supervision. Just me and my brother left to sort it out. We usually ended up with a black eye each, but by the end of it, we got that shit out of our system and moved on.”
The thought of being trapped again with Dragon makes my stomach roil in disgust. No, thank you.
“My grandma used to just separate us and put us in a time-out,” I grind out, unable to meet Koyn’s penetrating stare.
“Yeah?” Koyn says. “Well, I ain’t your fuckin’ grandma. Get your shit together or I’ll have you both cleaning the slaughterhouse from top to bottom after we have our way with Corsetti.”
He releases me, shouldering past me.
“Corsetti?” Dragon demands, following him back into the clubhouse. “Loki’s problem?”
I let out a heavy sigh and go in as well. Koyn doesn’t come out to the clubhouse unless we’re having Church or he has business to talk about. Apparently, Loki, the prez of the Reno, Nevada, RBMC chapter, has dumped his shit into our lap.
“Loki’s problem is our problem,” Koyn barks back, making his way over to the bar and sitting down. “Anthony Corsetti’s son, Max, took off and headed out east.”
Knowing where my duty lies, I stalk over to the bar to grab him a bottle of Jameson and a glass. Once I pour him a couple of fingers’ worth, I set the bottle beside his glass and cross my arms over my chest. Dragon sits back down beside Katana. Nees is perched next to him, an eyebrow raised at me as if to silently ask me if I’m okay.