Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(98)

I smiled up at him. “Later. Now get this done.”

He nodded. Bent. Touched his lips to mine.

“Later.”

I gave him a squeeze and let him go.

He took his time untangling his fingers from strands of my hair that didn’t want to let him go, and then he started out of the closet.

“Baby?” I called before he disappeared.

He turned back.

“Are Dog and Brick back?” I asked.

He nodded. “Dog, yeah. He and Sheila are back and stayin’ back. Brick, no. He’s back to help us see the end to this shit but he’s got a woman on the western slope. Her name is Stella. Apparently, she’s the shit and treats him like gold. Dog likes her. Sheila thinks the world of her. Brick’s finally found it, Keekee. He’ll go back to her. They’re gettin’ hitched the end of the summer.”

That made me happy. Brick had a soft heart but got it trampled way too often by women who took advantage of it. If Dog liked her, this was good. This meant she was worth having Brick.

“See?” I asked quietly. “It’s all good. It’s all gonna work out. All the brothers are finding their way to happy.”

He studied me a second, did it intently, I weathered it easily, enjoying what was working behind his eyes, especially since it was working there at a time when he was going to walk out of my house to do what he had to do that night.

In other words, standing there solid for my man, I gave him some calm before he had to hit the storm.

Finally, he said, “Yeah.”

“Love you, Hound.”

He dipped his chin to acknowledge that.

It was what was in his eyes that gave that back.

Then he disappeared.



It was late when Hound returning to bed woke me up.

I turned into him and nuzzled his throat with my face, murmuring, “All good?”

“Yeah, baby. But I’m wiped. Go back to sleep.”

“’Kay,” I mumbled, nuzzling all the rest of him with all the rest of me.

I fell asleep pressed tight to his side, Hound on his back, one of my legs tangled in both of his, feeling his hand flat and warm on the small of my back.



Hound

Hound did not fall asleep.

Hound held his Keely to his side and stared at the dark ceiling.

He did this because Hound, Tack, Hop, High, Boz, Brick and Dog went right to where the bones were buried.

They’d dug them up.

The problem with that was …

Those bones were gone.





Their Blood Runs Chaos Keely

“Oh my God!” I snapped. “If you don’t quit eating that, Jagger, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

I barely finished saying that before Hound strolled up, reached between me and Jagger, nabbed a chicken tender off the mound on the plate beside me at the stove and bit off half of it.

“Seriously?” I asked my man.

He gave me a closed-mouth grin while chewing and swallowing, before saying, “Babe, you bought four packets of chicken tenders. Each pack had to have four breasts in it. There’s six of us eatin’. You’ve been fryin’ chicken for almost an hour. Unless this guy is a Saskatchewan, he’s not gonna eat twelve chicken breasts worth of chicken tenders. So, chill.”

Needless to say, it was Sunday evening.

Time for dinner with Beverly and her guy.

I squinted my eyes at Hound. “If you don’t quit telling me to chill after you’ve annoyed me, Shepherd Ironside, you’ll be wearing this chicken and we’ll have to serve Safeway stuff to Bev and Tad.”

“I still can’t believe Aunt Bev’s man’s name is Tad,” Jagger said under his breath, getting my attention.

“He probably can’t believe your name is Jagger,” I shot back.

“Yeah, but I’m named after a Rock God and he’s named a word that means,” he smirked, “little bit.”

“Fitting,” Dutch mumbled, joining us, reaching in and grabbing his own tender.

I made to smack his hand with the tongs I was holding, missed, but did this seeing the error of my ways that I announced Tad had a little dick in the Compound.

Shit.

I pointed the tongs at each of my boys. “Not a one of you mentions his member.”

“Or lack of,” Jagger joked.

I skewered him with a glare.

“Christ, woman, we’re not gonna talk to the man about his cock, not the first time we meet him, not ever,” Hound declared.

“Ma, unwind,” Dutch said. “Aunt Bev is the shit. We love her. We got her back. Tonight’s gonna go awesome.”

Dutch would be awesome.

Jagger loved his Aunt Beverly and would try to be awesome, he also might fail.

I had never been with Hound in a social situation that didn’t involve pool tables, a hog turning on a spit, copious drinking and at least fifty other people. He loved me. I loved him. He gave amazing orgasms. He could be sweet. He could be funny. He made great eggs.

But he could also be a lunatic.

A knock came at the front door.

Shit.

“I got it,” Jagger said, moving off.

Not my first choice.

“Jag!” I called. He stopped and turned around. I did the thing with the tongs again between all of them and said, “All of you. Button up the badass. We’re just your normal, average family of mechanics and a truancy officer, the mechanics working at a custom car and bike garage with auto supply store that happens to belong to a motorcycle club made up of vigilante bikers. Hide that last part.”