Own the Wind (Chaos #1)(96)

This was positive news, so I left it at that, which was good because I knew Shy didn’t intend to give me more even if I wanted it.

But right then, I didn’t feel positive vibes mostly because my brother looked like he wanted to kill someone.

He, also like Dad, had a short fuse, and looking at his face, I knew the sparks were close to the dy***ite.

This meant that Shy and Dad were likely close to the blast.

“Your girl,” he pointed at me, stalking behind the bar and heading toward where I sat on a stool, “is a pain in the f**kin’ ass.”

Not a good opening.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, as he reached up to a shelf and brought down the tequila.

He turned to me. “No.”

Crap!

“Are Dad and Shy okay?” I pressed.

“They were when I left,” he answered ominously. My heart tripped and before I could ask another question, Joker walked in.

I’d met Joker but I didn’t know him mostly because when I was around, he was busy.

That didn’t mean I hadn’t noticed he was seriously good-looking in a scary way that reminded me more of Lee Nightingale than Chaos. It wasn’t learned. It didn’t come from dealing with a tough life. It was a part of him.

Joker was tall, built, not bulky but also not lean, just muscled in a powerful way. He held his body and moved like he knew exactly what his frame was capable of and what it was capable of was a lot.

He also had a natural confidence that was kind of bizarre, considering he was younger than Rush, who was twenty-six. He had a thick head of black hair with more than a small amount of wave to it. He wore it long, hanging in his face and down to his shoulders. He also had a full beard that, unlike most of the brothers who sported facial hair, he kept trimmed. The beard made him appear older than his years. The tan he had made him look weathered and again older than he was.

But it was his steel-gray eyes that told the tale. That steel was like a shield, holding everyone back from the mysteries that lay within. This was kind of a weird coincidence, since his name was Carson Steele. And I didn’t know him, but I knew from those eyes there was no doubt there were mysteries that lay within.

Watching him stalk in, I thought, although I’d never tell Shy, Carson “Joker” Steele was more than a little intriguing.

At that present moment, however, he was also more than a little frightening.

He prowled around the outside of the bar, eyes glued to Rush, and he stopped four feet from me.

He then growled, “I do not like this shit.”

Uh-oh.

“I don’t like it either, brother,” Rush agreed before he took a slug of tequila.

Joker’s eyes raked through me before he strode across the room and disappeared through the door at the back.

The good news was, his eyes raked through me, and it seemed he was just generally angry, not angry at me specifically because my best friend was addicted to drugs, unfortunately chose a dealer who also made  p**n  films and also unfortunately called me in order to extricate herself from a bad situation that involved cameras, sets, costumes, and fluffers.

The bad news was, I didn’t know what was going on but I did know it wasn’t good.

I turned back to my brother to see he was taking another pull of tequila, and I instantly changed my mind about what I was going to say next. First, I was going to ask for the tequila bottle. Second, after I took a hearty slug (or three), I’d ask what the heck was going on.

I didn’t get the chance. The door to the Compound opened, and I felt my eyes get wide when Elvira walked in.

Uh-oh again.

Elvira.

In normal circumstances, this could mean anything.

In the present circumstances, this could only mean bad things.

I’d known Elvira for years. She was a petite, curvaceous black woman who excelled at three things. She really knew how to dress. She put together things called “boards,” which were plates filled with fruit, cheese, veggies, and other stuff that didn’t sound all that exciting but the way Elvira did it, it was. And if she cared about you, blood, color, religion, politics all melted away, you became her sister in all that entailed and she let you know it. I knew because Tyra had that from her. I hadn’t quite been let in but then again, Elvira usually performed her adoptions when you were in the throes of a serious drama.

Something like what was happening right now.

It was also important to know she worked for Hawk Delgado.

I’d known Hawk for years too. He was a friend of Dad’s and around, not often, but enough.

I didn’t know what he did for a living, but since he routinely wore cargo pants and often sported a loaded gun belt in full view but had no badge, I had a sneaking suspicion he was either a commando or a mercenary. Though I couldn’t say what the difference was between those two, I just knew a man was one or the other. I also knew Hawk Delgado could totally join the cast of The Expendables but it was more likely he would act as a consultant on the film because Hawk Delgado didn’t playact badass. He just was one.

The presence of Elvira wearing a fabulous wrap-around green dress and spike-heeled chocolate brown boots while strolling into the Compound at five o’clock in the morning meant she wasn’t there for the usual reasons she was there: to eat, drink, and raise her brand of hell alongside a bunch of bikers.

Her expression and the phone held to her ear, not to mention the words she was snapping into it said finding fun while dressed to kill was not her current mission.