Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(57)

“And if you ever fuckin’ say shit like you said to me earlier again, brother, we’ll have problems. We got enough problems. Shit nearly tore this Club apart when we weren’t all in, takin’ each other’s backs. I’m doin’ my fuckin’ best for this Club at the same time dealin’ with my own problems. The fact you doubt that cuts deep. Think on that, Boz. We’re all impatient with this shit. You cut a brother because you can’t sort that in your head, you need a reality check. And I’m all up for givin’ it to you.”

He said that.

Then he disappeared through the door.



By the time Hound prowled out, all the brothers were gone.

Except Tack was still behind the bar.

“You off?” Tack called.

“Got shit to do,” Hound told him, still on the move.

“Hound,” Tack said.

Hound rocked to a halt and took the conversation he didn’t want to have in hand.

“You got anything more on Turnbull?”

“Only Sebring’s desire to see her put outta commission turning more and more rabid,” Tack answered. “You?”

“Got dick,” Hound answered. “And Valenzuela hasn’t resurfaced.”

“You’ve told me that, brother,” Tack replied quietly.

“Far’s I can tell, she’s closed ranks,” Hound declared.

“You’ve told me that too,” Tack said.

Hound told him something else he knew. “And she’s pulled off Chaos.”

She had.

For the last week, maybe two, no Valenzuela whores or dealers had been found on their patch.

All clear.

All clean.

All Chaos.

“I’m uneasy about that,” Tack shared.

“You’re not alone,” Hound replied. “I can’t get near one of her boys. They don’t roam alone or in groups of two anymore. She’s the wiser to me. They roam in packs. I try to dig into one, they’ll rip me to shreds.”

More likely fill him with bullets. They were clinical motherfuckers. They had a problem, they shot at it, had good aim, and then walked away. It wasn’t about brotherhood or family. It was about getting the job done. He fucked up one or he fucked up fifty of their soldiers, it was all the same to them.

“Then you need to pull back,” Tack told him.

“And where’s that get us?”

Tack didn’t look happy and the hard line of his jaw said just how less happy he was to say, “Waiting and watching, brother.”

“Unleash Sebring,” Hound advised.

Tack nodded. “I’m thinking, Turnbull is leaving Chaos turf, that’s our only choice. I’ll bring it to the table.”

Hound nodded back and started moving again.

He didn’t get far before he was stopped by Tack calling his name.

“Keely good?” Tack asked.

That didn’t make his neck burn.

It set it on fire.

“She’s pissed as shit at Boz.”

“He’s made the wrong plays with Bev for years,” Tack muttered.

He could say that again.

“I know how you feel about—” Tack started.

“No you don’t,” Hound bit out.

He’d told Tack he loved Keely.

But now that didn’t even come close to explaining where he was with her, even after that scene they’d just had.

“You were holding her hand, Hound,” Tack said carefully.

“I was dragging her ass out so she didn’t stick her foot deeper than it already was, walkin’ in with us the way we were and landin’ that shit on Boz.”

Tack nodded again. “You wanna talk about what shit you’re dealin’ with?”

He didn’t.

At least not all of it.

“Jean’s slowin’ down,” he said.

“What?”

“Jean. Lady I look after—”

“I remember,” Tack cut him off.

“She’s slowin’ down. And fast.”

“Fuck,” Tack murmured.

“That’s about it,” Hound replied.

“You need anything? Tyra’d be happy to pitch in. And you know Tabby could help.”

He said both with pride because he had two girls like that. But that pride rang deeper with Tabby since she was a nurse and there wasn’t a father who wouldn’t be proud his daughter did that.

“I’m gettin’ her a doctor’s appointment. I’ll let you know.”

And Tack nodded again. “Hang tough, brother.”

He had no choice.

He lifted his chin to Tack.

Then he walked out.



His phone rang at eight o’clock sharp, about half an hour after Hound left Jean because she was already asleep.

Not a good sign.

It was Keely.

His mouth tightened but he answered the phone with, “We’ll talk later.”

“I’m in the bathroom at Bev’s. She’s practically catatonic on tequila. And I can’t let it go any longer without saying I’m sorry for what I said.”

She sounded like she was in the bathroom and also whispering.

And fuck him running, it was goddamned cute.