Wild Like the Wind (Page 92)

Hound nodded.

He got that.

But in the next instant, he rushed Arlo, got him by the throat again and took him, Arlo’s feet skidding and sliding, his fingers wrapped around Hound’s forearm, toward the bar.

Big Petey, Shy and Snap jumped out of the way as Hound slammed Arlo’s back against the bar, lifting him by his throat off his feet, curling him over the bar and bending into him.

“Hound, brother,” Pete murmured calmingly.

“You tell Chew I slit that fuck’s throat?” Hound rumbled.

The room went static.

“Get off me, man,” Arlo wheezed, trying to find purchase with just his toes on the floor and shoving at Hound’s forearm.

Hound squeezed and got deeper in his face.

“You tell Chew I slit that fuck’s throat?” he repeated.

“Get . . . off,” he choked.

“Answer him,” Tack, now at Hound’s side, gritted.

“Get him off me,” Arlo gagged.

“Answer!” Tack barked.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah . . .” Removing one hand from Hound’s forearm, putting it under Hound’s chin, and with a mighty shove and twist of his body, he pulled from Hound’s hold and scuttled away five feet.

Hound felt all the brothers amass at his back, except Tack, who took one step in front of him, toward Arlo, and there he stopped.

“You told Chew that shit?” Tack asked, the question coming almost as a whisper, furious, shocked and with disbelief.

“He was a brother,” Arlo returned.

Dog, at Hound’s other side, stepped forward. “At that time, he was not.”

“I was tryin’ to win him back,” Arlo snapped. “He was a brother. Before that shit went down, turnin’ him, he was a good brother. Thought, he knew we took care of business, Chaos had what it took to do it right, erase that motherfucker from the planet, avenge Black the way it should be, he’d come back.”

“That was not your place, Arlo,” Tack pointed out.

“Never thought he wouldn’t . . .” Arlo shook his head. “I thought he’d come back. He was Chaos. He was one of us.”

“You renounce the Club, you don’t get another shot to come back in,” Pete said.

“Shit was different back then,” Arlo reminded them.

“You renounce the Club, it’s done,” Tack stated. “It was done. You put your brothers in danger, Arlo.”

“It’s hearsay,” Arlo retorted. “He can’t do shit with it.”

“You were there, you’re not only a fuckin’ witness, you’re a fuckin’ accomplice,” High growled.

“I’m not gonna say dick,” Arlo hissed.

“You already did,” High bit out.

“What else did you tell him?” Tack asked.

“Just that we took care of it,” Arlo answered.

“We took care of it or Hound took care of it?” Tack pushed.

“Both,” Arlo spat.

“Christ, brother,” Tack murmured. “You pushed for Hound to stand the gauntlet sittin’ on knowledge for fuckin’ years that meant that’s right where you should be to pay penance for doing some stupid . . .” his tone was degenerating, “fucking . . .” he was losing it, “shit!”

Then he lost it.

And Arlo was against the side wall with Tack’s forearm tight to his throat this time.

The men closed in.

“I was tryin’ to pull the Club back together,” Arlo rasped.

“You mighta tore us apart,” Tack returned. “He’s got the goddamned bones.”

“Chew won’t take it there,” Arlo pushed out.

“You better hope the fuck not, man,” Tack clipped. “You better hope the fuck not.”

He pushed off, took a step back and Hound watched as Tack stared at the floor and took in deep breaths.

Finally, he lifted his head and looked at his brothers.

“The gauntlet is done. The women are outside. Business is concluded for tonight.” He turned to Arlo. “We’ll deal with your shit later.”

Brick came forward, jabbing a finger Arlo’s way. “Hand tied behind your back for fuckin’ certain, brother.”

“We’d lost Black!” Arlo yelled. “We’d lost Chew. Crank had fucked us all. I was tryin’ to keep our Club together!”

“And now you’re learnin’ a valuable lesson we all already knew and you shouldn’t have needed to learn,” Tack said. “Problem with that is you’re not the only one who might suffer the consequences.”

“There was good in him,” Arlo shot at Tack.

“Maybe you’re right,” Tack shot back. “And now we all gotta hope there’s still some of that left and we gotta hope that because of you.”

“I fucked up, is that what you wanna hear?” Arlo asked. “It is or it isn’t, it doesn’t matter. I fucked up. You think I haven’t been livin’ with that for a long fuckin’ time? Shit, I’m glad it’s out. I fucked up. Now we all deal. As brothers.”

“Jesus, that’s a fuckin’ joke,” Dog muttered.

“No it’s not,” Rush stated. “It’s the god’s honest truth. We’re brothers when it’s all good and we’re brothers when it’s in the shitter, and we’re brothers when we fuck up or we’re not brothers at all.”

All the men looked to Rush.

Rush shook his head, mumbled, “Jesus, now I need more tequila,’ then moved back to the bar.

It took some of the men more time than others but eventually they all disbursed.

Except Hound who stood there staring at Arlo.

“I fucked up, brother,” Arlo told him quietly. “I laid you out. I thought Chew would hear you delivered justice for Black, he’d know we were on the right path. But it didn’t go that way so in the end, I fucked up and laid you out.”

“You finally on board with where we’re heading?” Hound asked.

“Yeah, man. Yeah. Have been since after Cherry . . .” Arlo jerked up his chin. “Absolutely. Have been for years.”

So that night wasn’t about Hound moving in on Keely.

It was about Arlo letting out the rage that started building from the shame he felt now that they knew Chew was back.

He’d take that from him.

Because he was his brother.

“Then we’re good,” he decreed.

“I’ll stand the gauntlet, the men put me in the circle,” Arlo said.

“You’ll want that. It clears the head, cleans the soul.”

Arlo nodded and muttered, “Just, on your go, lay off that fuckin’ left hook.”

He was so into the discussion, he didn’t sense her until he saw Arlo’s attention shift beyond him and he felt her hand on his back.

He turned.

And there she was.

Keely.

Standing close to him at the Compound, the heart of Chaos, her hair running in shining sheets down either side of her face, her choker around her neck, looking up in his eyes.

Keely, his old lady.

Right there.

Oh yeah.

He would have taken a beating from all of them, both hands behind his back, for that moment right there.

She lifted a hand and gently prodded the cut in his eyebrow with her thumb, her gaze on it, then lifted her other hand and did the same with the cut on his lip.

“They opened you up,” she whispered.