Wild Fire (Chaos #6.5)(36)

“So the money I’ve been givin’ her is goin’ up her nose?” Jagger asked. “Not to pay her rent?”

Dutch let Georgie go because he could tell by the line of Jag’s body and the deterioration of his tone that shit was going south.

Hound also adjusted his position.

Keely went to Georgie.

“Son,” Hound said low.

“Don’t, Hound,” Jagger warned.

“Let’s take this outside, brother,” Dutch suggested.

Too late.

Jag’s body tightened tight.

“Goddamned fuckin’ cunt!” Jag shouted.

Then he twisted, reached an arm long, and pointed his finger at Georgiana, and Dutch braced to intervene.

He did it with difficulty, because he would lose it if his brother was a dick to Georgie, and he did not want that between him and Jag, nor have that dragging on what he wanted to build with Georgiana.

But this was Jag.

He should have known better.

“Sorry,” Jagger forced out. “Sorry you heard that. But she’s a goddamned cunt.”

Dutch relaxed.

Hound relaxed.

Keely stayed close to Georgie.

“I should have said something earlier,” Georgie noted, and she sounded miserable.

“Can’t rat out your own sister,” Jagger replied.

“I tried to stop her,” Georgie told him.

“Babe, this isn’t on you. This is on your user, loser, junkie bitch of a sister,” Jagger stated.

“I should have—”

“Stop it,” Jag hissed. “This is the goddamned damage of assholes like Carolyn. She makes me feel like a chump, I gave her money. She makes you feel like shit, you didn’t shield people from her bullshit. And it’s all on her. So fuckin’ shut up about it.”

“Jagger,” Hound said in a warning tone.

“Fuckin’ shut up about it, please,” Jagger amended.

Georgie let out a startled laugh and said, “You got it.”

Okay then.

Done.

“You need a shot?” Dutch asked. “I got all sorts of shit. You call it.”

“I need to find Carolyn and tell her she’s dumped and if I see her face again, we got issues,” Jag replied.

Dutch looked to Georgie.

But she shook her head. “It’s his now. And he’s right. It’s not his job, or my job, or yours, or anyone’s to cushion her from whatever’s coming. It happened how it happened and now it’s Jagger’s,” she said. “So I’m not going to ask any of you to let me cushion her from this.”

“She’s gonna be pissed at you, babe,” Dutch warned.

“Well, I’ve been pissed at her for a few years now, it’s my turn, I guess,” she returned, and then she looked to Jag. “But if you want me to talk to her—”

“No, I got this,” Jag bit out.

Georgie nodded.

“I know I need a goddamned shot,” Hound declared, walking to the kitchen.

Keely gave Georgie a look, Dutch, Jagger, then she followed her husband.

“Mwrr?” Murtagh asked, batting at the leg of Jagger’s jeans with his paw.

“So now you like me, after you know the piece of ass I was tagging was taking me for a ride?” Jagger asked.

“Mwrrrrrrrr,” Murtagh answered, butted Jag’s leg with his head before he ran his whole body down it.

Which meant Jag bent and picked him up, muttering, “You’re nuts.”

“Murr,” Murtagh retorted.

“Don’t deny it. You totally are,” Jagger said, and Murtagh gave up on the conversation and started purring when Jag started scratching behind his ears on his way to carrying Murtagh to the kitchen.

“Does your whole family speak cat?” Georgie asked Dutch.

“Until now, I’d have said no. Now, I gotta say yes.”

She smiled at him.

And it was huge.





Chapter Seven



It’s Family



Dutch



Dutch woke as usual, on his stomach.

Not as usual, he felt something weighing on his lat and across the small of his back.

It took a second before he smiled.

Georgie.

She was pressed up to him, cheek to his lateral, he could feel her soft hair there, her arm was around his back.

He liked her just like that, but he had a feeling he’d like something else better.

So he shifted, which made her shift, and he instantly found there was more to be into with Georgiana, because she made cute sleepy noises as they both moved.

This being Dutch turning to his side to face her, Georgiana giving him room to do that, then burrowing in, tangling her legs with his, wrapping her arm tight around his waist, shoving her face deep into his chest then sliding it up, so it was in his throat.

This left him with his chin on top of her hair which was contained in the poofy ponytail she’d put in it before they’d crashed the night before.

He slid both his arms around her, gave her a squeeze, and murmured, “You awake?”

“Mm,” she hummed.

He grinned.

“Baby, good morning kiss,” he prompted.

“No,” she denied. “Morning breath,” she explained.