Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(91)

“They wouldn’t do that to Hound,” I said quietly.

Bev made no reply.

“Not Hound. They wouldn’t do that to Hound.”

She finally said something.

It was, “Girl.”

And that was it.

That meant she thought they’d do it.

To Hound.

“I couldn’t bear it if they did that to Hound. Not Hound. Not at all. But definitely not because of me,” I told her.

She leaned across the table toward me.

“Don’t,” she hissed.

“Beverly—”

“He’ll do it, he’d stand through it, and he won’t give a shit,” she declared.

He would.

He’d do it and he wouldn’t give that first shit.

For me.

My voice was getting higher. “I don’t care! They can’t do that to Hound because Hound is Hound.”

“And Black was Black,” she said gently.

“So?” I snapped. “They can’t see past that to see Hound’s happy? I’m happy? It has not one fucking thing to do with them, and they can’t act like they’re having a little tizzy for a day or two and then get over it?”

Her lips ticked up but she said, “Not sure any of those men have ‘a little tizzy’ in them. More like the different levels of the wrath of hellfire when they get pissed.”

“Well, they can just get over it,” I bit out.

“Keely—”

“They fucking can,” I sneered. “I swear to Christ, Bev, if they put my man through that for doing nothing but falling in love with me, I’m done with the Club. Hound will stay in it. Dutch and Jag will patch in. But I’ll be out.”

“Keely,” she whispered, blue eyes big and horrified.

“And I’ll tell each and every one of them just that if they even think about making him stand the gauntlet.”

“You need to stay out of this and you know it, babe,” she advised gravely. “It’ll be a brother thing.”

“Excuse me? The man I pick to drive his cock in me is a brother thing?” I asked sarcastically. “I don’t fucking think so.”

“Keely, you know how it is.”

“I know how it’s not going to be and that is the fact they are not going to make my man stand the gauntlet for falling in love with me. Not after all he’s given to the Club. Not after what he gave to Black. Not after how he took care of my boys. Not after all he did for me. No way. No fucking way.”

With that, on a slash of my hand, I grabbed my champagne flute, almost committing the sacrilege of spilling some Sofia, before I put it to my mouth and swallowed the whole damn thing.

When I put it down, Bev was already up, going to the fridge to get the bottle.

She filled my glass and set the bottle on the table, her gaze on me.

“You know I got your back, babe,” she said softly. “You also know that doesn’t mean dick.”

“Thanks, Beverly. And you’d be surprised. Those men love you. And it seems to me from what Hound’s been telling me, they might live their lives and do their thing and they don’t give a shit what anyone thinks but they do care what the brothers think, and from what I’ve heard, they now also care what their women think. And you’re still considered Boz’s so you have more loyalty from that Club than you think.”

She looked like she’d fallen into a weird trance.

So I called, “Beverly.”

She snapped out of it and came back into the room, her eyes clear, so clear, they were almost sharp and …

Fuck.

Dancing.

She swiped up her glass and lifted it toward me. “You’re right, sister. Love is in the air and fuck it. They don’t think snatch has a say? They don’t think our feelings matter? Whatever. We’ll just keep on keepin’ on, and in the end, be happy.”

I ignored the earlier look in her eyes, lifted my recharged glass and again we clinked.

She gulped hers all down.

I only drank half of mine.

She put her glass to the table, grabbed the bottle, started her refill and said, “Gotta keep up with my girl.”

I shot her a smile that I hoped wasn’t shaky and replied, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”



In the end, we got trashed.

So in the end, I had to call Hound to pick me up.

Also in the end, I nearly burst into tears when Hound showed at Bev’s door and she threw her arms around him, shoved her face in his chest and shouted, “You and Keely! This makes me so happy!” then dissolved into sobs.

I managed not to burst into tears when Hound’s arms slowly wound around her, he looked over the top of her head and raised his brows, giving me a “Please kill me” look.

It was then I had to stop myself from laughing.

Needless to say, getting in Hound’s truck with Hound, the first time I’d ever been in his truck with him alone, the first time I’d ever ridden beside him without the boys with us, and it coming to me I’d never been on the back of his bike and couldn’t until we told the brothers, I started to dive into my head.

This being, diving into my head angrily.

Because Bev was right.

Those men practically worshipped Black.