Chapter Six #2
palms were itching when he turned her way and barked, “What?”
She jolted and looked to him, whispering, “What, what,
baby?”
He prowled to her, asking, “What’d that Jackson guy do?”
“Uh,” she mumbled, eyes huge in her face and aimed up at him
as he stopped in front of her. “Your family is here.”
“What’d he do that you’re here barely an hour after I left
you?” he demanded.
“Can we just say he wasn’t a gentleman?” she tried.
“No,” he bit.
She put her hand to his sternum, leaned in and said, “Your
family is here, honey, like, right here.”
“Um, hello there. I’m Dutch’s mother, Keely. And who might
you be?” his ma said close to his left side.
“Jesus, Georgiana, what’re you doin’
here?” Jagger asked from close to his right.
“Everyone out,” Hound ordered at his back.
That was Hound, always at his back.
Definitely literally, and now figuratively.
“Not on your goddamned life, cowboy,” his mother decreed.
Shit.
“I’m thinking there are other good reasons I wore this dress
tonight,” Georgie muttered.
He wanted to think she was funny.
He was not finding anything funny.
“You okay?” he asked her.
“He just made a pass. I deflected. Took off. But, uh…” Her
eyes went side to side, before she finished, “my mission was not accomplished.”
“Hound, my love, my husband, father of one of my sons, dad
to all, do you know how interesting I find all this?” his mother called, even
though Hound was probably three inches away from her.
“Baby,” Hound grunted like he was trying not to laugh.
“Very interesting,” his mother answered herself.
“Hi.” Georgiana jumped forward, extending her hand toward
Keely. “I’m Georgiana Traylor. And Dutch and I are, um…we’re, uh…”
Dutch shifted, slung an arm around her shoulders, and said,
“It’s Georgie’s cat, Ma.”
“I see,” Keely said, lifting a hand and taking Georgie’s.
“Nice to meet you, Georgiana.”
“She’s Carolyn’s sister,” Jagger shared when Keely let her
go.
“Is she now?” Keely asked, her eyes narrowing.
And it was the first time Dutch had any indication his
mother had Carolyn’s number.
Jagger was grinning massively, shoving his way in front of
Hound, arms crossed on his chest. “Did you two hook up after Carolyn and I
couldn’t give Georgie a ride from the airport?”
“Jag—” Dutch started.
“Jives,” Jagger noted. “Seein’ as
it’s been about five days.”
“Jagger—” Dutch tried again.
“Fuckin’ hell, man, you and me with sisters,” Jag stated and
burst out laughing.
“Oh my God,” Georgie mumbled super low, pressing her hip
hard into his to indicate that this was not a good sitch
and it was getting worse.
“Murr,” Murtagh butted into the conversation.
“Hullo, my baby, hullo, my precious,” Georgie cooed to him
as he threaded himself around her stilettos and the hems of Dutch’s jeans.
“This is like a Hallmark movie,” Jag said.
“Hallmark in hell,” Georgie said, again under her breath.
Now that was funny.
Dutch choked down laughter.
“Okay, I’m done. What the fuck is going on?” his mother
demanded in Mom Voice.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Oh boy,” Georgie mumbled.
“Baby,” Hound tutted.
“It’s just that Dutch hooked up. I told you two he was
cool,” Jag declared.
“Is that it, Dutch?” Keely asked. “You just found a girl?
Who’s your brother’s girlfriend’s sister? Who tonight apparently was out with
another man, wearing that dress, a man who made a pass at her? News that’s
surprising in itself, considering she left him and came right to you. News that
further made me wonder if we’d have to tie you down so you wouldn’t go out and
commit murder? Is that just what’s going on?”
Dutch looked to Georgie and asked, “Babe?”
She got him.
“I don’t know, honey,” she said. “Your call.”
“Not all of it,” he reminded her.
“It’s gonna have to be done
eventually.”
“Jesus Christ!” Keely screeched, Georgie jumped,
and Dutch looked to his ma to see her eyes on Hound. “They’re talking in
code. This is so deep between them they can talk in code. And his
mother is just now meeting this girl?”
“Woman, lock it down,” Hound growled.
She leaned toward Hound. “In code, Shepherd.”
“He’s a grown man, Keekee,” Hound replied.
“So you’re okay with this?” she demanded.
“Well, yeah,” Hound answered. “Because he’s a grown man,
Keely.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, we’re investigating the murder of the
dad of one of the kids at King’s Shelter. Georgie is a reporter and she’s using
some of her sources to find out whatever she can,” Dutch told them. He looked
down at Georgie. “And obviously, that did not go well tonight.”
“It’s over. I’m fine,” she assured.
“Right,” he grunted.
“You’re investigating a murder?” Keely asked.
Goddamn it.
“Ma—” he started.
“When did you take the detective’s exam?” she queried.
“Listen—” he tried again.
“Strike that, when did you become a cop at all?” she kept at
him.
He went silent but did it looking to Hound and Jagger for
support.
And found none.
He would discover why immediately.
“Got a brother at your back?” Hound asked.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Hound—”
“Do you?” Hound bit.
“No,” Dutch bit back.
“Are you fucking shitting us?” Jagger demanded.
“Okay, now, let’s just—” Georgie tried.
“Quiet, girl, you’re not in this,” Keely ordered.
Now, wait a fucking minute.
“Do not,” Dutch clipped.
His mother blinked.
Hound got closer to his wife.
Georgie pressed closer to his side.
“This is my home, and this is my woman, Ma. Do not speak to
her like that in my home. Or ever.”
“Your woman?” Georgie and Keely both asked at the same time.
“We’re new,” he said to Georgie and looked to his mother.
“She’s new. But the point still stands.”
Keely couldn’t argue that and didn’t.
She asked, “How new?”
“We haven’t even been out on a date,” he told her.
“And she’s coming in your side door?” his mother inquired.
“Keekee,” Hound warned.
Keely shut her mouth.
“Respect, I love you, but how many dates did you go on with
Hound before he was at our breakfast table?” Dutch asked.
There was utter silence, until Hound chuckled.
“Gotcha there, Ma,” Jagger said.
“When you all have children, I will be laughing,” Keely
stated.
“Maybe I should—” Georgie started.
“They’re leaving, you’re not,” he told her.
She sucked in her lips and lifted her brows.
“Right, about this murder,” Hound said.
Dutch looked to him. “It’s mine.”
“Dutch—” Hound began.
“It’s mine. I’m doing what I have to do. It’s mine.”
Hound stared into his eyes and Dutch knew this bit. It
stung. It pained him.
This man took them out to get candy on Halloween.
This man sat them down and gave them their sex talks.
This man put their names forward to be brothers at Chaos.
This man gave them a baby brother and made their mother
happy again.
But what Dutch was doing for Carlyle was about Carlyle.
It was about Khalon Stephens.
And it was about Graham Black.
Dutch knew it would not erase his father’s death or Carlyle
losing his own dad.
He also knew, for whatever reason, he had to do this.
If he didn’t, he’d never be right again.
He sensed Georgie knew it.
And looking in Hound’s eyes, it didn’t surprise Dutch in the
slightest that Hound knew it too.
Hound Ironside knew his boys down to the soul.
So he knew this.
Keely sidled closer, whispering, “Dutch.”
“It’s mine, Ma,” he said firmly, now staring her straight in
the eye.
She halted, nodded, her expression troubled.
“Maybe it should be mine too,” Jagger put in.
He looked to his brother.
Jagger got it too.
And he would go there because Jag deserved the shot to have
whatever Dutch was going to get out of this.
Except…
He looked to Georgie.
She shrugged and bit her lip.
She then nodded and said, “It’s not fair. They’re on again
and it’s not right, Dutch.”
He nodded back and asked, “You or me?”
“What the fuck?” Jagger cut in.
Georgie looked to his brother. “Okay, I’m sorry. So sorry.
But, well…”
She faltered.
Dutch stepped in.
“She’s usin’ you, man. Carolyn.
She’s got a bunch a’ guys she mooches from and it’s not life-is-tough shit.
She’s got a cocaine habit.”
Jagger’s upper body swayed back.
Shit, Christ.
“Brother, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “But it’s true.”
“I’m not a pain-in-the-ass sister, Jagger,” Georgie added.
“I’ve been on her for a while to get herself cleaned up and to stop…uh, what
she’s doing with, um…using you and the, uh…other guys.”
Fuck.
“I told you, boy,” Hound said.
“I did too, honey,” Keely put in softly.
Whoa.
He had no idea his parents had figured shit out about
Carolyn.
Dutch looked to Jag.
Jag was staring at Georgiana.
“The other guys?” he asked.
She jolted again and then asked back carefully, “You didn’t
know?”
“I knew, but she takes money from them?”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“All of you.”
Jagger’s tone was not right when he asked, “Cocaine?’
Shit, this sucked worse than he already knew it would.
“It was recreational at first, and I was still concerned,”
Georgie said. “But I don’t think it is anymore. She used to not hide it. She
hides it now. And she sometimes sells handbags, or shoes, when she’s in between
guys, I suspect so she can keep supplied.”
“So the money I’ve been givin’ her
is goin’ up her nose?” Jagger asked. “Not to pay her
rent?”
Dutch let Georgie go because he could tell by the line of
Jag’s body and the deterioration of his tone that shit was going south.
Hound also adjusted his position.
Keely went to Georgie.
“Son,” Hound said low.
“Don’t, Hound,” Jagger warned.
“Let’s take this outside, brother,” Dutch suggested.
Too late.
Jag’s body tightened tight.
“Goddamned fuckin’ cunt!” Jag shouted.
Then he twisted, reached an arm long, and pointed his finger
at Georgiana, and Dutch braced to intervene.
He did it with difficulty, because he would lose it if his
brother was a dick to Georgie, and he did not want that between him and Jag,
nor have that dragging on what he wanted to build with Georgiana.
But this was Jag.
He should have known better.
“Sorry,” Jagger forced out. “Sorry you heard that. But she’s
a goddamned cunt.”
Dutch relaxed.
Hound relaxed.
Keely stayed close to Georgie.
“I should have said something earlier,” Georgie noted, and
she sounded miserable.
“Can’t rat out your own sister,” Jagger replied.
“I tried to stop her,” Georgie told him.
“Babe, this isn’t on you. This is on your user, loser,
junkie bitch of a sister,” Jagger stated.
“I should have—”
“Stop it,” Jag hissed. “This is the goddamned damage of
assholes like Carolyn. She makes me feel like a chump, I gave her money. She
makes you feel like shit, you didn’t shield people from her bullshit. And it’s
all on her. So fuckin’ shut up about it.”
“Jagger,” Hound said in a warning tone.
“Fuckin’ shut up about it, please,” Jagger amended.
Georgie let out a startled laugh and said, “You got it.”
Okay then.
Done.
“You need a shot?” Dutch asked. “I got all sorts of shit.
You call it.”
“I need to find Carolyn and tell her she’s dumped and if I
see her face again, we got issues,” Jag replied.
Dutch looked to Georgie.
But she shook her head. “It’s his now. And he’s right. It’s
not his job, or my job, or yours, or anyone’s to cushion her from whatever’s
coming. It happened how it happened and now it’s Jagger’s,” she said. “So I’m
not going to ask any of you to let me cushion her from this.”
“She’s gonna be pissed at you,
babe,” Dutch warned.
“Well, I’ve been pissed at her for a few years now, it’s my
turn, I guess,” she returned, and then she looked to Jag. “But if you want me
to talk to her—”
“No, I got this,” Jag bit out.
Georgie nodded.
“I know I need a goddamned shot,” Hound declared, walking to
the kitchen.
Keely gave Georgie a look, Dutch, Jagger, then she followed
her husband.
“Mwrr?” Murtagh asked, batting at
the leg of Jagger’s jeans with his paw.
“So now you like me, after you know the piece of ass I was
tagging was taking me for a ride?” Jagger asked.
“Mwrrrrrrrr,” Murtagh
answered, butted Jag’s leg with his head before he ran his whole body down it.
Which meant Jag bent and picked him up, muttering, “You’re
nuts.”
“Murr,” Murtagh retorted.
“Don’t deny it. You totally are,” Jagger said, and Murtagh
gave up on the conversation and started purring when Jag started scratching
behind his ears on his way to carrying Murtagh to the kitchen.
“Does your whole family speak cat?” Georgie asked Dutch.
“Until now, I’d have said no. Now, I gotta
say yes.”
She smiled at him.
And it was huge.