Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(55)

“And what way would that be, Boz?” Tack asked, his voice stone cold.

It was a good question for Boz. He was a soldier. He wasn’t a general. He wasn’t a strategist.

Without Tack saying it, it was said.

If you don’t have any ideas, shut the fuck up.

“I don’t know, I’m not a mastermind, Tack,” Boz threw back, not stone cold, pissed as shit. “Since you are, how ’bout you come up with a scheme to get us outta this fuckin’ mess, because seriously, brother, it’s gettin’ tired.”

“Boz,” Hound murmured, and felt Boz’s attention land heavy on him.

“And you. You’re supposed to get this in hand, man. What the fuck you been doin’ for the last fuckin’ four months? Only time I seen you pitch in, including on guard duty to the old ladies, is when you could get your jollies kickin’ Bounty ass.”

Slowly, Hound straightened from slouched at the bar and turned in his seat toward Boz.

“Dial it down, Boz,” he heard Hop warn, quiet and irate.

“Fuck that,” Boz returned. “We’re all steppin’ up and this guy hasn’t even taken patrol in fuckin’ months.” He said this jerking a thumb at Hound.

“He’s on his own mission,” Tack said.

“Well, he’s failin’,” Boz fired back.

Hound felt his neck start burning.

“Check yourself, brother,” Joker warned Boz, also quiet, also irate.

“It’s not only me who’s noticin’,” Boz bit back.

“You and the boys henpeckin’ over me, Boz?” Hound asked with casual curiosity.

“Fuck you,” Boz spat.

“Has it occurred to you I might have shit happenin’ in my life where I don’t got time to be suckin’ your cock?” Hound asked.

Boz’s face went hard, his torso swung back, then his face turned nasty. “Hell no, Hound. Known you decades, man. You’re about pussy and blood. The deeper the shit Chaos is in, the happier you are ’cause you’ll have asses to kick and then bitches to fuck as you ride the adrenaline high.”

“Am I lookin’ in a mirror?” Hound returned, because his brother just described his own damned self.

“Not from where I’m sittin’ ’cause I don’t have a mission,” Boz said that snide. “But least I’m on patrol and takin’ old ladies’ backs when it’s my turn.”

“You sayin’ I’m draggin’ this Valenzuela shit out after High’s woman was taken, hit in the face, watched two men die, and Rosalie got the shit kicked out of her?” Hound returned.

“I’m sayin’ you’re not a man who’s gonna be happy sittin’ in a rockin’ chair in front of the Compound when this shit is done,” Boz replied.

“No. I’ll drink tequila and fuck broads and raise hell and sleep real fuckin’ cozy, brother, smile on my face the dog that’s Valenzuela is put down, whatever way that is, and he’s not sellin’ pussy on my patch. Sellin’ junk that fucks people up on my patch. Doin’ anything to smear his oily, nasty shit on my patch. I stood side by side with you, brother, when it went down years back. But it was me who got bloody to avenge this Club, avenge my brother, keep us on the path to bein’ clean. So if you’re feelin’ a little impatient things aren’t movin’ fast enough, get your thumb outta your own goddamn ass and step the fuck up.”

“That’s a point you should take, Boz, but I’m gonna get in here between you two and say this shit doesn’t fuckin’ help,” Tack growled. “We fight ourselves, we’re not gonna have the focus to fight the real fight. So quit this shit and get over it.”

“Sebring’s done and he’s said that to you, Tack,” Boz reminded him of Knight’s repeated warnings over the last month. “He’s over this shit. Let him deal with it. You don’t do that, I know you’re tight with those cops and Hawk, but this is a brothers’ problem and the brothers best get to handlin’ it.”

“Why are you standin’ there tellin’ me shit I already know?” Tack asked. “If I could snap my fingers and have this done, I would. Since that’s not an option, find some patience, brother. Or take a break, get on your bike and ride. But don’t bring this shit on Chaos. You or any of the brothers have a problem with how things are handled, you bring it to the table. You don’t spill that shit all over the bar where nothing can get decided. And if you got any bright ideas, I promise, Boz, I’m all fuckin’ ears.”

While he was talking, the door opened and Hound was looking at Tack.

But Hop had looked to the door.

Then vibes came off Hop that made Hound look to the door.

And he had to put it all in to stop his own vibes from choking all the oxygen out of the air.

This was because Keely had strolled in.

What in the fuck?

“Keely,” Hop muttered.

“Jesus, never met her. Fuck, she’s amazing,” Joker said under his breath.

Tack turned to Keely as did Boz.

Hound kept his seat and stared at her strolling in.

She was amazing.

Jeans, scarf, suede jacket, boots, a bunch of jewelry that was kickass Native American or just kickass, hair shining, gorgeous face alert, she could have walked right out of a magazine.