Rough Ride (Chaos #5)(61)

In the end, unable to do it on his knees, Crank struggled up to his feet.

“Ready!” Tack shouted.

All the men lifted their guns and pointed them at Crank.

But when Hound took aim, his focus was not on Crank.

He was looking at Crank, but everything he had in him was focused on Tack.

So the minute the first sound from the first letter came out when Tack boomed, “Fire!” Hound was already squeezing the trigger.

It was a nanosecond before any of his brothers, all who did the same, pulled theirs.

But Hound knew it was his bullet that was the first that penetrated Crank.

And it did this right through his eye.

This made Hound happy.

*****

Later that night, which was the early hours of the morning, Hound was with Tack when they went to the house. He was one of five men with him—Hop, Boz, Dog, Brick, and Hound. They were all, Hound knew, in consideration for being Tack’s lieutenants.

For Hound, who was young, this consideration was an extreme honor.

Still.

Hound did not want this.

He had another position in the Club, now more than ever.

And he needed to be free to focus on it.

But he went anyway.

He had to.

For him, there was no other choice.

Tack knocked on the door and she didn’t make them wait. She probably hadn’t slept in weeks. But she’d know to be waiting for this.

Because she was Chaos.

When she opened it, Hound felt the sight of her hit him like a punch in the throat.

It wasn’t about her beauty, which was extreme.

A sheet of black hair that glistened like silk. Lush features that stamped plain her American lineage was either native or seriously exotic. Body, long and lean. Tits, firm and high. Ass, round and sweet. Skin, smooth and tanned.

Hound had rounded the Compound years ago in order to dump a spent keg back there and caught Black fucking his then fiancé, now widow, against the back wall. Before he’d backed away silently, he’d seen that beautiful face in orgasm and he’d never forgotten it.

But it was before that when he’d taken the fall for Keely Black.

So now it was not about her beauty, that punch in the throat.

Now it was about the dead in her eyes, the grief carved in her features in a way each brother knew, Hound especially with the attention he’d given her, she’d not put the effort in to smoothing it out.

She’d met, fallen in love with, married and given two sons to the only man on earth that was good enough for her.

Now he was dead.

And she might be breathing, but she was the same.

“Where are the boys, honey?” Tack murmured.

“Asleep,” Keely replied, her unusual, low, smooth voice even on that one word slithering through the air like a ripple of velvet.

She knew the drill and moved out of the way as Tack moved in.

Hop, Boz, Dog, Brick and Hound moved in after her. Each man took time with her, stopping, touching her, pressing lips to her forehead, stubbled cheeks to her smooth one.

Not Hound.

He stopped in front of her and looked down into her dark-brown eyes.

She stared up in his.

I’d take his place if I could, he thought.

But he said nothing.

He just followed his brothers and walked into her living room.

Keely followed him, and after Hound stopped by Brick, Tack spoke.

“It’s done.”

For a second, Hound didn’t know if she heard him.

Then she asked, “It is?”

“It is, darlin’,” Tack said gently. “Black has been avenged.”

He hadn’t, Hound thought. Not yet. Not fully. But he will be.

“Now what?” Keely asked, and Hound reckoned he was giving her all of his attention, but at that question he realized he was wrong.

“We—” Tack started.

“I don’t care about Chaos,” she cut him off.

He felt the men beside him draw in breaths, shuffle their feet uncomfortably, because this wasn’t just said about the brotherhood. This was said by Keely, who was an old lady but she was so much a part of Chaos, through Black but also just on her own, she’d loved her place in it so huge, it was also like a punch in the gut.

But Hound narrowed his eyes at her, taking in every inch of her, his lungs on fire, his palms itching, his need to go to her, draw her near, pull her close, absorb her pain, make it all okay so overwhelming, he felt his energy leaking out of him with the effort it took to contain it.

“What I wanna know is, now what? Now what for me? For my boys?” she asked.

“We’ll take care of you, Keely. Like Black was still with us, until your last breath, Chaos will have your back. You’ll get his cut of everything at the store, the garage. The brothers will—”

“You gonna take out the trash?” she asked.

Yes, Hound thought.

Brick waded in. “If that’s what you need, baby.”

She looked to Brick. “Okay, so who’s gonna make my boys chocolate chip and peanut butter pancakes every Sunday morning?”

I will, Hound thought.

“Keely, darlin’—” Tack began.

“And who’s gonna drag Dutch’s ass outta bed when he’s bein’ a pain. He’s in kindergarten and he hates school so much, I know I’m gonna have a fight on my hands for the next twelve years until he can see the end of it.”