Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(139)

He backed out just as I saw Jagger coming out of the Compound.

Hound took a hand from the grip and gave him a flick, Jag gave one back and I blew my son a kiss.

Jag shook his head and threw his leg over his bike.

He looked good on it.

Then again, the amount of pussy that I’d overheard Dutch telling Hound his little brother was nailing, I knew that did not go unnoticed by the biker groupies and probably beyond.

I put this out of my thoughts, happily settled into the knowledge Hound would give me a girl and I wouldn’t have to deal with any more of that kind of thing as Hound started us through the forecourt.

We both waved again (well, I waved, Hound did another wrist flick), this time at Big Petey on his Harley trike riding in.

Pete gave us a big smile and a thumbs up as he passed.

I held on tighter to Hound, thinking how good it was to be home.

And we rode out of the forecourt of Ride, off Chaos, the wind in our hair, the Denver sun on our faces, to go look at houses.



Hound could not get over the wallpaper.

I discovered that I was not about to have a house without an awesome master suite.

So it would be the next week when we found what we were looking for.

Hound paid for it in cash and refused to even discuss me putting a penny into it.

I got that need so I kept my mouth shut.

During prime rib for Jag’s birthday, we discussed the house my boys had grown up in and I found I was right.

They were attached to me, to Hound, they had the pieces of their father that meant everything to them, so they were good to let go of the house.

The boys lost their trust funds from their grandfather.

So when we sold my place, I divided the proceeds of the home their father gave them and added that to the money they were already going to get from their father and me when it was time to start to get serious about building their lives.

We did a short sale. We were in by the beginning of May.

Hound, Dutch and Jag bitched about having to move furniture again (though the boys kinda got over it when they found out they were inheriting Hound’s new furniture, all but the bed, which we put in the guest room).

But with all the brothers and their old ladies helping (plus Tad and Bev), we were in in no time.



A week later, I stood with my head on Hound’s chest, our arms around each other’s waists, holding Dutch’s hand with my free one while Jag had his arm thrown around his big brother’s shoulders after we got Jean’s mezuzah back from the scribe who checked it was still kosher.

We stood this way while Jean’s rabbi said a prayer over it as he tacked it up at the entryway to our living room.

When he was done, we shared a glass of wine with the rabbi and his wife (well, I did, Hound and the boys drank beer) and Hound and them shared memories of Jean.

And even though we’d been in the house for a week, since Jean was now there with us, it felt like we were finally home.



Hound

When his phone rang, Keely made a move against him as Hound lifted his head to look across to her nightstand.

It was twenty-four after three in the morning.

“Fuck,” he muttered, twisting to grab his phone from his nightstand.

“Who is it?” Keely asked sleepily.

He did not like seeing Tack’s name on his screen at three twenty-four in the morning.

“Just a second, Keekee,” he murmured, took the call and put the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

“All brothers to the Compound. Now.”

Fuck.

“Be there in ten,” Hound said, and Tack made no reply.

He disconnected.

Hound turned to Keely. “Got Chaos business, babe.”

She held on to him even as she looked over her shoulder at the alarm clock.

She turned back to him.

“It’s very early,” she whispered.

Chew had not contacted them to have a meet, parlay or not. Valenzuela had not reappeared. Turnbull was keeping her shit off Chaos, and according to Knight, dealing with her stable appropriately.

Therefore there was nothing to share with Keely about the shit they were in, because for all intents and purposes, that shit had disappeared.

Even if there was something to share, after they discovered the bones were gone, he wouldn’t have told her.

And Keely being who she was, how she was, she wouldn’t have expected it.

Not a one of the men thought it was done.

And now Hound knew it wasn’t.

“I gotta go,” he replied.

“Right,” she said, pushed into him and up so she could brush her lips to his.

Then she let him go.

He got dressed, went back to the bed for another touch of lips from his woman then moved out of their room, down the hall, out the door off the kitchen to his bike parked next to Keely’s ride. He hit the garage door opener, pulled out, hit the remote he had that he shoved in his back pocket and he rode the five-minute ride to Chaos.

He could have walked it, their new house was that close. That was Keely’s deal. He didn’t care where they lived, just as long as it was theirs (and had a fire pit).

She wanted him close to his family.

Her family.

So they were.

By the time he hit Ride’s forecourt, he saw Tack, Hop, Shy, and Hawk Delgado’s Camaro turned in after Hound, following him into the space.