Wild Fire (Chaos #6.5)(47)

“I order brownies,” Kraken declared Georgie’s way.

“The big cookies with the cinnamon,” Banga put in.

“Snickerdoodles,” Georgie corrected.

“Shizlayaya, I do not say words as stupid as the word ‘snickerdoodles,’” Banga retorted.

To that, Hound snorted.

Banga and Kraken’s eyes narrowed on Hound.

Dutch stepped in.

“Okay, men, thank you for what you did and we’re sorry shit got confused but you’re off the case.”

Dutch tensed when Kraken got close to Georgie and stabbed a finger in her face. “Brownies.”

He then stared when she threw her arms around his neck, gave him a hug and promised, “Give me a couple days. I have a new boyfriend and he’s keeping me busy.” She let go and finished, “But I’ll text you after I make them.”

“Gotcha, sister, stay shizzleazza,” Kraken replied.

Then, fuck him, they did a complicated handshake with a dizzying variety of moves that spanned them from waists to over Georgie’s head before they finished it.

Dutch glanced at Jag and Hound to see both of them staring at his woman with huge motherfucking grins on their faces.

Christ.

Banga moved in next, got his hug, handshake and promise of cookies.

Then Kraken bellied up to Dutch before they took off, noting, “I would share, you fuck her over, I’ll fuck you up, but then I’d have Chaos all over my ass, and I ain’t sheerashaka dumb. So hear me, shanakaka, you fuck her over, know you’re just the stupidest shanakaka out there. Ya dig?”

Dutch kinda did, he kinda did not.

However, since he had absolutely no intention of fucking Georgie over, he jerked up his chin.

Banga just stared him down and spat, “Sharashena,” before he left.

The door closed.

All eyes turned to Georgiana.

“‘Shanakaka’ means ‘asshole.’ The rest of it, I have no clue. And I bribe them for their help with baked goods because I have a talent in that area. It used to work with Jackson too, but that bridge has been irretrievably burned,” she explained.

Dutch already was not real thrilled with this Jackson sitch he knew about, but also didn’t.

That made him less so.

Though, he was intrigued about her talent with baked goods.

“I’d find this farce amusing, if I wasn’t still tied up on the goddamned floor,” Carlyle stated.

Dutch moved to him where he was still sitting on his ass on the floor and crouched.

“I gotta share you’re gonna stay that way until we get you safe, unless you promise you’re gonna be cool.”

“Fuck you, let me go,” Carlyle returned.

“I know what you’re doing, Carlyle, and it doesn’t seem like it now, but everyone in this room is here to help,” Dutch told him.

“You don’t know dick and I don’t need your help,” Carlyle retorted.

“He saw you, didn’t he? The guy who shot your dad.”

Carlyle’s eyes told the truth even as the kid himself shut up.

Georgiana crouched beside him.

“Hi, Carlyle, I’m Georgie.”

“Don’t give a shit who you are,” Carlyle replied.

“I can imagine,” she murmured. “But you know, uh, so we can get this situation taken care of as fast as possible, we have pictures we want you to look at so you can let us know if one of them is the guy you saw that night.”

That caught his attention. “What pictures?”

“From Jessica, your neighbor’s Facebook.”

“Bitch, you think I didn’t look there first?” he sniped.

Okay, the line was far for Dutch that Carlyle couldn’t cross.

But he’d just leaped over it.

“You don’t know me,” Dutch said low. “And I get you don’t wanna know me. But know this, you do not call my woman a bitch. Are you feelin’ me right now?”

Carlyle’s eyes shot to Dutch, and he didn’t even look at the men who had gathered at Dutch’s back at hearing his tone.

The kid he really was, the kid his father raised, came out and he looked wrecked for a beat before he hid it.

But Dutch zeroed in.

“That’s your father’s son, do not lose what you’ve got left of him by losing hold on that.”

“You don’t know dick about my father,” Carlyle spat.

“You’re very wrong. A few seconds ago, I was looking him right in the eye.”

Carlyle’s entire big body shuddered before he closed his eyes tight and turned his head away.

Dutch knew that feeling.

He’d felt it just that morning.

And his father had been dead for twenty-three years.

“Now, we’re pickin’ up Gary Bronson, and we’re gonna be talkin’ to him,” Dutch shared, and Carlyle looked back, too young, or too broken, to be able to hide his shock. “And we’ve got men on Jessica, and we’re gonna be watchin’ every move she makes. And we know where the warehouse is, and we’re gonna be on that too. You got more for us, we’ll be all over that. In the meantime, we got a safe place for you to stay with a roof, a bed, food to eat and good people who’ll look out for you. And if you’ll let me, I’ll go to your ma and share you’re good, you’re safe, and I can bring her and your sister to you so we can prove that to her. But she’ll be safe the way I do it. And then you leave this to me, to my brothers, to the men who’ve waded into this, because we got you.”