Wild Wind: A Chaos Novella (Chaos #6.6)(57)

It was right. Two brothers hanging together, working something important. It was how it should be.

And maybe he should go to his ma and Hound, share about Archie, her kids and Mal and get their take on it.

One thing Keely and Hound Ironside knew was raising boys.

But for now…

“The dad’s in the military. He was transferred. He’s now stationed in one of the Carolinas, and he’s currently deployed,” he answered Dutch’s question. “But I get the sense from Archie that the dad isn’t an issue.”

“But the kid doesn’t talk about it?” Dutch asked.

“Nope,” Jagger answered, thinking this said a lot, just not certain what it said.

Dutch didn’t ask about the mom. Or the sick grandma.

He asked about the dad, like the dad might be an issue, when in this case, the dad wasn’t an issue.

But that was Dutch’s first go-to.

And there it was.

It was a thing, boys and their dads.

It wasn’t just Jag.

It totally was a thing.

On this thought, Mal came out of the school.

And he did it walking fast.

This heightened Jagger’s attention, since Mal wasn’t doing anything fast these days. He still slunk around the store like he had shoes made of concrete.

“There he is,” Jagger said.

“Which one?”

“Black kid. Jeans. White tee. Gray hoodie.”

“Got him.”

Jag’s back snapped straight when he saw what came next.

“And there are the twins. The two white fucks following him.”

Watching Mal walk like he was trying to look like he wasn’t running away, but was totally running away, Jag rolled his head on his shoulders.

While he did, he felt—and heard—three pops.

They were so deep, Dutch heard them too. Jag knew it when he felt Dutch’s eyes on him.

“Shit, brother,” Dutch said quietly. “That’s fucked up.”

“It’s all right.”

“It isn’t. Seriously, how are you that wound up when you’re livin’ the goodness with Archie? Is this kid under your skin that much?” Dutch asked.

Jagger had a feeling that wasn’t about Mal.

Jag kept his eyes on the kids as they made their quick way down the sidewalk when he answered, “You know it happens. It always happens no matter what’s going on in my life.”

“You gotta get on top of that,” Dutch advised.

“Right,” Jagger muttered, then louder, “We don’t roll, we’ll lose them.”

He felt Dutch’s focus shift away. “Two bikes are loud. We need to give them some more—”

Dutch stopped talking when they watched Aaron Harris advance fast on Mal and shove him so hard, Mal went down to his hands and knees.

Seeing that, without a word between the riders, two bikes roared to life when Aaron didn’t hesitate to draw back a foot to kick.

Jag and Dutch rolled out, and when they got close, like they had a mind meld, they both rolled up.

Dutch, straight up on the sidewalk, cutting off the Harrises’ retreat, Jagger, beyond the action, cutting off an advance.

The second Harris brother, Allan, who’d been hanging back while Aaron whaled on Mal, tried to make a break for it, but was caught short by Dutch grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him around, giving him a shove to keep him pinned between the bikes.

Aaron not only saw there was no retreat, school had just let out. There were kids everywhere.

He’d waited until they were off school property, and probably out of sightline of staff, to instigate his attack.

But now he had an audience.

And he was so intent to retain his street cred, for him, retreat wasn’t an option.

With Jag and Dutch in the mix, he was too young to completely hide his fear, though.

Jagger parked his bike, switched off the ignition and dismounted.

Dutch had already touched one of the kids, Jagger didn’t think it wise to go there.

What he should do, he had no clue.

He had to go with his gut.

“What’d I tell you, if I found out you were fuckin’ with my boy?” he demanded irately, eyes locked to Aaron, but he jerked his head down to Mal who was pulling himself up from the sidewalk.

Aaron had gotten a kick in and then some. Jag saw it before they rolled in.

“You can’t—” Aaron started.

Although Jagger didn’t advance, he leaned toward Aaron, and they were not close, but the way Jagger did it, Aaron still shut his trap and leaned away.

“You don’t know what I can do, motherfucker,” he threatened. “And I can guaran-damn-tee you, you just bought trouble. Now fuck off.” When neither twin moved, he roared, “Now!”

Allan bolted.

Aaron had to save face, so he glared at Jagger a beat before he turned and jogged in the direction his brother took.

Jag watched him go, caught Dutch’s eye, saw his brother’s jaw was tight, knew he was pissed (and that would be very pissed), but he wasn’t half as pissed as Jagger.

Jag then looked down at Mal.

“You okay?”

“Good, yeah, okay,” Mal muttered.

“Bud, that piece of shit kicked you.”

“I’m alright.”