Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(121)

“I’m fine, it’s good. I mean, it took a bit to get there because that was, well … not fun.”

I figured, getting kidnapped and watching two men get murdered, that was the understatement of the year.

Before I could mention that, she carried on, only mumbling, “But, um …” before weirdly her eyes darted to High and back to me like she was nervous.

I put this down to High approaching with our filled wineglasses (though I still didn’t get the nervous part). He set them in front of us and then pulled out the chair at the head of the table, next to Millie, down from me, where I used to sit but now where Hound sat.

He sprawled out like he paid the mortgage.

I nearly laughed.

Seriously.

Chaos.

It was then I noticed the look on his face, and I wasn’t feeling like laughing anymore.

It was my eyes that were darting between High and Millie then.

She was nervous.

And he was vigilant.

Disturbingly so.

“What’s going on?” I asked slowly.

“Okay, uh … I just …” Millie stammered, looked to High, to me, to High, and I felt my body start to string tight.

Before I could ask again what was going on, High asked his own question.

“You okay?”

“I already answered that, and I was, until you two showed and my reunion with Millie got weird,” I answered.

“Jag’s ridin’ Black’s bike,” he announced.

I relaxed.

They were worried about my state of mind now that my son had my dead husband’s bike.

That I could handle.

“Logan!” Millie snapped.

“What?” he asked her.

“You could have led into it,” she told him.

“Like you were doin’?” he fired back.

“I was getting there,” she returned.

“When, next week?” he asked, but it was a sweet tease.

She moved in her chair in a way I knew was her kicking him under the table.

He didn’t mind, and I knew that when I saw him grin at her.

And I sat there watching them, my tension gone, tickled freaking pink that they had this back again.

“You guys, I’m fine,” I cut in on a smile and got both their attention. “It was just time. Time to let go. I had my little ceremony with Black and then gave Dutch his cut, Jag his bike, and …”

I trailed off because High had been watching me while listening to me but his attention turned to the back door.

My attention was turned from him when Millie asked, “Ceremony?”

“It was kinda …” How to explain it? The way Hound put it came to me. “All I had left of him that didn’t have a permanent place in my heart. And the boys are both earning their patch. Since they are, I know now that they would get the significance of getting those things of their father’s. So the time was right, I held a little ceremony and then gave my boys their father.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Millie replied. “But, Keely, honey, that couldn’t have been easy.”

“I took a long time saying my good-byes, babe,” I told her gently. “Really, I’m o—”

I was interrupted by the back door being opened.

In a flash, my entire body was tight as a bow, so I felt it in every inch as I twisted in my seat and watched Hound walk in.

I hadn’t heard him pull in at the back, but High had.

And since he pulled in at the back, he wouldn’t have seen High and Millie’s ride at the front.

Maybe it was time to get my hearing tested.

Damn.

Hound saw High first, then Millie, then me.

He stopped dead for just a beat before he stepped fully in and swung the door closed behind him.

He said nothing.

I said nothing.

High and Millie said nothing.

The air in the room was thick.

I knew that at least High knew that Hound looked after me all these years.

I also knew that High probably knew that in all that looking after, he’d never just let himself in the back door.

Furthermore, we couldn’t lie.

He was coming out to the Club soon, maybe even tomorrow. He couldn’t lie to High and Millie now and then tomorrow tell all the boys he was with me, we were living together, moving to a new house together, eventually getting married and building onto our family … together.

Shit!

What did I do?

“Brother,” Hound grunted.

“Brother,” High growled.

Hound moved in and I held my breath.

“Millie,” he greeted.

“Hey, uh … Hound,” she said hesitantly, definitely not knowing what was going on but also definitely feeling the vibe.

Hound shrugged off his cut, and I now felt every inch of skin tingling with adrenaline-fueled panic as he made it to me, tossed his cut to rest along the back of my chair like he normally did every time he came home and took it off.

Then he bent down to touch his mouth briefly to mine.

The air in the room became stifling.

He lifted away but an inch.

“Hey, babe,” he murmured.

I stared into his eyes.

They were determined.

This was his home.

This was where me made me breakfast and I made him dinner. Where we went to bed together and woke up together. Where we fucked and where we cuddled and where we hung out with beers in front of the TV.