Wild Like the Wind (Page 40)

“We were done a long time ago, honey,” Boz murmured.

“So you are good with that,” she declared. “You’re okay she’s still totally in love with you. Has been waiting years for you to pull your head out of your goddamned ass and—”

Boz was getting even more jacked up, all the men felt it, but Hound acted to do something about it.

He scraped his stool back, got off, rounded Boz and stalked to her.

Grabbing her upper arm, she snapped, “Hound!” but he whirled her around, dropped her arm, caught her hand and dragged her out.

He pulled her right to her car, jerked her until she was back to her door, got in her space, and bent his neck to get in her face.

“Are you insane?” he asked.

“Well, you wouldn’t do anything about it and she called me at school today to give me the happy news and then immediately burst into tears. And they weren’t tears of joy, Hound. So what do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you to go to her house, get her loaded and talk her outta marrying a guy who’s not for her. Not waltz into the Compound and get up in a brother’s shit.”

“Someone has to do it.”

“And that someone can only be you because you’re Black’s widow and you’re the only bitch breathing any brother would put up with that shit.”

She snapped her mouth shut and her eyes flashed.

“You know it,” he growled. “You know every brother would walk a mile with bare feet on broken glass for you. You haven’t used it but the situation obviously never came up. Now, it’s come up and your ass is here, stickin’ your nose in shit that,” he got closer, “I fuckin’ told you to keep your nose out of.”

“You’re their dog on a leash, Hound, not me,” she threw in his face.

He leaned back.

Her expression instantly untwisted, going from pissed to repentant.

“Fuck, that was outta line,” she whispered.

“Damn straight,” he agreed. “Now go see to your girl and we’re off for tonight.”

He started to move away but she grabbed his wrist, murmuring, “Shep.”

He yanked it free and hissed, “Don’t fuckin’ touch me. Not on Chaos. I’m Hound on Chaos. The dick you play with belongs to Shep. Don’t forget that, Keely.”

She looked like he hit her but he didn’t give a shit.

He walked away.

Right into the Compound.

“You set her straight, brother?” Boz called as he stalked toward the door at the back that led to the brothers’ rooms.

Right.

Apparently they were all good when Hound was dealing with Boz’s problems.

Hound kept moving, turning only his head to Boz, having all the men’s eyes, but feeling only Tack’s stare.

“She’s right. Bev loves you,” Hound said. “You never stopped lovin’ Bev. She’s lonely and tired of goin’ it alone. Get your head outta your ass and do somethin’ about that, Boz. Or it’s gonna be too late. If it isn’t that shit already.”

He stopped at the door, turned to the room and lowered his final blow on his bud.

“And if you ever fuckin’ say shit like you said to me earlier again, brother, we’ll have problems. We got enough problems. Shit nearly tore this Club apart when we weren’t all in, takin’ each other’s backs. I’m doin’ my fuckin’ best for this Club at the same time dealin’ with my own problems. The fact you doubt that cuts deep. Think on that, Boz. We’re all impatient with this shit. You cut a brother because you can’t sort that in your head, you need a reality check. And I’m all up for givin’ it to you.”

He said that.

Then he disappeared through the door.

By the time Hound prowled out, all the brothers were gone.

Except Tack was still behind the bar.

“You off?” Tack called.

“Got shit to do,” Hound told him, still on the move.

“Hound,” Tack said.

Hound rocked to a halt and took the conversation he didn’t want to have in hand.

“You got anything more on Turnbull?”

“Only Sebring’s desire to see her put outta commission turning more and more rabid,” Tack answered. “You?”

“Got dick,” Hound answered. “And Valenzuela hasn’t resurfaced.”

“You’ve told me that, brother,” Tack replied quietly.

“Far’s I can tell, she’s closed ranks,” Hound declared.

“You’ve told me that too,” Tack said.

Hound told him something else he knew. “And she’s pulled off Chaos.”

She had.

For the last week, maybe two, no Valenzuela whores or dealers had been found on their patch.

All clear.

All clean.

All Chaos.

“I’m uneasy about that,” Tack shared.

“You’re not alone,” Hound replied. “I can’t get near one of her boys. They don’t roam alone or in groups of two anymore. She’s the wiser to me. They roam in packs. I try to dig into one, they’ll rip me to shreds.”

More likely fill him with bullets. They were clinical motherfuckers. They had a problem, they shot at it, had good aim, and then walked away. It wasn’t about brotherhood or family. It was about getting the job done. He fucked up one or he fucked up fifty of their soldiers, it was all the same to them.

“Then you need to pull back,” Tack told him.

“And where’s that get us?”

Tack didn’t look happy and the hard line of his jaw said just how less happy he was to say, “Waiting and watching, brother.”

“Unleash Sebring,” Hound advised.

Tack nodded. “I’m thinking, Turnbull is leaving Chaos turf, that’s our only choice. I’ll bring it to the table.”

Hound nodded back and started moving again.

He didn’t get far before he was stopped by Tack calling his name.

“Keely good?” Tack asked.

That didn’t make his neck burn.

It set it on fire.

“She’s pissed as shit at Boz.”

“He’s made the wrong plays with Bev for years,” Tack muttered.

He could say that again.

“I know how you feel about—” Tack started.

“No you don’t,” Hound bit out.

He’d told Tack he loved Keely.

But now that didn’t even come close to explaining where he was with her, even after that scene they’d just had.

“You were holding her hand, Hound,” Tack said carefully.

“I was dragging her ass out so she didn’t stick her foot deeper than it already was, walkin’ in with us the way we were and landin’ that shit on Boz.”

Tack nodded again. “You wanna talk about what shit you’re dealin’ with?”

He didn’t.

At least not all of it.

“Jean’s slowin’ down,” he said.

“What?”

“Jean. Lady I look after—”

“I remember,” Tack cut him off.

“She’s slowin’ down. And fast.”

“Fuck,” Tack murmured.

“That’s about it,” Hound replied.

“You need anything? Tyra’d be happy to pitch in. And you know Tabby could help.”

He said both with pride because he had two girls like that. But that pride rang deeper with Tabby since she was a nurse and there wasn’t a father who wouldn’t be proud his daughter did that.