Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(72)

Then he strolled across the living room toward my front door.

He’d fence me in with his bike, and probably did, since he had no problem parking it right behind my side of the garage, and I’d never said anything to him about that.

It wasn’t the time to say anything about that, because I had a feeling this would be the last time he’d ever be in my house.

No.

It was the time to say something else.

“Eat cookies,” I ordered my sons. “I’ll be back.”

And with that, I marched out behind Hound.

I knew he had to know I was following him after I opened and closed (okay, slammed) the front door he’d already been through.

He still didn’t even hesitate as he walked through the early March Denver sunshine to his bike, not even turning to look at me.

Yep.

Parked fencing me in.

I waited until he’d swung a meaty thigh over his bike (Lord, I loved that man’s thighs—focus, Keely!) but I got in there before he made it roar.

“A coupla minutes, you can find that in you, Hound,” I called.

He was facing front, and at my call only turned his head to the side.

But he didn’t turn on his bike toward me.

When I made it to him, I found it fortuitous that I could look down at him.

His long torso was proportioned well with his long legs so I didn’t get to look too far down on him.

But at least I could look down at him.

“First, the preliminaries, and no matter the colossal motherfucking dick you’ve proved yourself to be, it has to be said, I’m very sorry about Jean,” I declared to start.

The blank left his face, and I felt him rocket right to fury, not at me bringing up Jean, at me calling him a colossal dick, but I did not give that first shit.

“Second,” I kept going before he could even open his mouth, “it’s clear you misinterpreted what I was doing when I was at your scales tat. If you even have a smidge of respect left for me, you’ll allow me to explain that I was trying, like I had been for two fucking months, to guide you to a place where you’d get past feeling you were being disloyal to your brother, where you’d get to the point you were willing to face what the brotherhood might land on you if they knew we’d become what we’d become, and you’d fight to make it to the other side with me.”

“Do not try to feed me this shit, woman,” he rumbled.

That pissed me off (more).

But I ignored him and kept talking like he had not.

“In all we had, and there was a lot, one of the things I felt was beautiful, not the most beautiful, other stuff we had was far more beautiful, but I still thought it was beautiful, and that was that we both had him. We both loved him. He loved both of us. I’m sure you’ll twist this, and hey, it might be twisted. But I don’t give a shit. I loved that. I loved that you got what he was to me. I loved that wasn’t something I’d ever have to explain or hide. I loved that you loved him so much you had him inked into your body. I loved that he wasn’t between us, he was a part of us. Both of us. I loved that I got to have something new and beautiful with you at the same time I got to share him with you. And last, I loved you had that reaper and would understand how important it was to be smart and stay safe so you wouldn’t be torn away from the people who love you.”

I also ignored how his expression had now changed.

The fury was gone.

Shock had replaced it.

“Then you put him between us,” I went on. “Dragged his spirit right there not like the shield you’d been using, but like a weapon. That I didn’t love, Hound. That was fucked up. And how you put your hands on me made it worse.”

His face started to soften and warm and he turned his torso my way so he was sitting on his bike still, but fully facing me.

“Keely—”

I talked over him.

I had to.

He’d had his chance.

He wasn’t getting in there again.

“For two months you didn’t pay one single bit of attention to one single fucking thing I did. Not one, Hound. Not that first one. If you did, you’d know I knew precisely whose cock I was sucking. Whose cock I was fucking. Whose cock I,” I leaned toward him, “invited up my ass because it was damned important to give that to you. To make sure you knew you had something of me he never got. To make sure you knew I was inviting you inside me every way I could take you. You missed that, Hound. You missed it, but you had enough hold on it to twist it into something ugly and foul and shove it in my face while you had your fist in my hair and you made us done. So just to confirm, I got your message and we’re done. So fucking done.”

“Baby—” he tried to get in.

I did not let him.

“Now, you gave my boys that,” I flung my arm behind me, “and as ever, I appreciate it. What I would appreciate from this point on is if they need something like that and you’re gonna be in my space, you give me a heads up. I don’t wanna see you. I don’t wanna breathe your air. But you mean the world to my boys so I’m not gonna get that. So again, if you have any respect left for me, give me warning I gotta endure your presence. Yeah?”

“Keekee—” he whispered, his expression now haggard, like he wore it at Jean’s graveside.

God.

Christ.