Wild Like the Wind (Page 6)

“Yours,” Hound finished for him. “And it’s you. You grow up, wanna make that official, every man will welcome you. You just want us at your back, you’ll have that until the day each and every one of us stop breathing.”

Something washed through his face before his lips quirked. “She was wet and hot down there, man.”

Hound let him go but again didn’t get out of his space. “You’re growin’ up too fast. Your looks, you’ll get your share of hot, wet pussy. Before he tagged your mother, your old man made an art of gettin’ his share. When it comes your time, and by that I mean you hold your shit for another coupla years, first, you see to them. They won’t be pantin’ for it if you don’t give it good. You need pointers on that, talk to me, Hop, Dog, Tack. And second, condoms. No excuses, no exceptions. You can’t get your hands on ’em, you call me. I’ll make sure you’re supplied.”

Something else came into Dutch’s face.

“People think things about bikers, Hound. I don’t even have a learner’s permit, no way a bike, and still, my dad, Chaos, kids know things and they say shit. Am I supposed to just take that crap?”

“Fuck no,” Hound replied. “But Jesus, son, you don’t blow your top on school grounds. Assholes need a lesson, you always do it smart and in a way your momma doesn’t feel the pain after you bring it.”

Dutch stared at him a beat before he smiled.

“Workout room on Chaos, your ass is there,” Hound told him. “I go to a gym, I’ll pick you up, take you there too. We’ll spar. Make sure you know what you’re doin’, don’t get surprised and can make your point and know when to stop. We got a deal?”

Dutch nodded. He tried not to do it enthusiastically, but he failed.

“I gotta make another visit to you like this one, it won’t make me happy,” Hound warned.

“But you won’t give up on me,” Dutch stated.

Hound stared at him.

Dutch’s chin moved in a funny way before he made his face hard and he went on, “You won’t give up on me. You won’t disappear on me. Yeah?”

“You got me, kid,” Hound whispered. “Always.”

“You won’t disappear on me.”

“I won’t disappear, Dutch.”

“Never. You won’t go.”

Christ.

He’d pull that blade across that motherfucker’s throat again right then, no question about it.

“Never, son,” he promised.

That thing happened to his chin again before Dutch looked away and drew in a sharp breath through his nose.

“Tomorrow, pick you up at your house, take you to Chaos,” Hound said. “Show you around the weights. After school. Wear shorts, tennis shoes, a loose tank. With me?”

Dutch looked back at him and nodded.

Finally, Hound stepped back.

“Need a ride home?” he asked.

Dutch shook his head. “Gotta go get Jag. He gets outta school after me. I walk him home.”

Hound nodded.

“Then git, kid. Jag wants to come with you tomorrow, call me and let me know. I’ll pick you up in my truck.”

Dutch nodded.

Hound moved toward his bike.

“Hound?” Dutch called.

He stopped and turned back.

“I was five,” Dutch said.

Hound locked his body.

“But I still miss him,” he finished.

“So do I, Dutch,” Hound made himself reply.

Dutch took him in.

Then he turned and ran the other way.

Five years later . . .

She opened the door, and like usual, since he was always the one to do it unless he was on assignment, Hound stuck out his hand toward Keely, that hand holding the envelope containing the check Cherry had cut for her.

“Your take this month,” he told her.

She took it, her eyes on him. “Thanks, Hound.”

He jerked up his chin, and like always said no more and started to move to turn away.

“And thanks for that jumbo box of condoms you supplied Jag with,” she continued, making Hound turn around and look at her again. “Gave me one less thing to ream his ass about after I walked in on him drilling the head cheerleader on the couch in the living room.”

Christ.

How many times had he told those boys to play it smart when it came to location and timing?

“You want me to stop bein’ their supplier, you’re their mother and I’ll stop. Not my place but I’ll still say, that ain’t smart.”

“Please don’t stop. I don’t need my boys being baby daddy to half the kids in Denver.”

That was a good call.

Hound nodded.

He was about to walk away again when she stopped him.

“Dutch wants his name put forward to recruit.”

His eyes went again to her, his heart squeezed in a good way, but he said nothing.

“You, Hound, I’m tellin’ you, don’t allow the boys to let that happen.”

Now that was not a good call.

“You know that shit ain’t right,” he said low.

“Don’t let it happen, Hound.”

“He’s got Chaos in his blood.”

“His father’s blood drained out for Chaos.”

“Like I said, he’s got Chaos in his blood.”

She stared hard at him. “I’ll never forgive you if you let it happen.”

“Black would never forgive you if you did shit to stop it.”

He hated it, but after he said that she looked like he’d slapped her.

So he gentled his voice when he said, “That was harsh, but, woman, you still know it was true.”

She lifted up the envelope in her hand and said, “You can take off like you always do but thanks for this, Hound. Big, fat check every month bet makes it a lot easier for you boys to live with what I lost.”

And that was just bullshit.

“If you think for one fuckin’ second, Keely, that you were the only one who suffered that blow, it’s time to get your head out of your ass, look around you and see how that shit really is.”

Again, she looked like he’d slapped her but he didn’t go gentle because, for fuck’s sake, it had been fourteen years.

They knew she’d never get over it.

But she had to find her way past it.

“You’re right,” Hound carried on. “We’ve been so damned focused on cushioning the blow for you that in our own ways we all sustained that we haven’t seen the kinda care you really need, and that’s for someone to tell you that you need to stop wallowing in your bullshit and get it straight, woman. You need to stop shovin’ the guilt in our faces that we feel and taste and live every day. And you need to get a fuckin’ life.”

She didn’t look struck by that.

She looked remorseful.

“I shouldn’t . . . I shouldn’t have . . . not you. Especially not you. You stepped up. They all did. You all stepped up but mostly . . . you. I shouldn’t have thrown that at you, Hound.”

To leave it at that, he nodded and again turned to walk away.

“Thanks for lookin’ after my boys, Hound,” she called to his back. “With the condoms and with . . . well, everything.”

This time, he didn’t stop and turn around.

Because he had to. He had to bring her check to her. He had to get his shot at looking at her face. He had to have the mere moments he could get in her space. So he took them. Now especially, with the boys older, with all of them needing him less.