Prologue #2
He felt the men beside him draw in breaths, shuffle their
feet uncomfortably, because this wasn’t just said about the brotherhood. This
was said by Keely, who was an old lady but she was so much a part of Chaos,
through Black but also just on her own, she’d loved her place in it so huge, it
was also like a punch in the gut.
But Hound narrowed his eyes at her, taking in every inch of
her, his lungs on fire, his palms itching, his need to go to her, draw her
near, pull her close, absorb her pain, make it all okay so overwhelming, he
felt his energy leaking out of him with the effort it took to contain it.
“What I wanna know is, now what?
Now what for me? For my boys?” she asked.
“We’ll take care of you, Keely. Like Black was still with
us, until your last breath, Chaos will have your back. You’ll get his cut of
everything at the store, the garage. The brothers will—”
“You gonna take out the trash?”
she asked.
Yes, Hound thought.
Brick waded in. “If that’s what you need, baby.”
She looked to Brick. “Okay, so who’s gonna
make my boys chocolate chip and peanut butter pancakes every Sunday morning?”
I will, Hound thought.
“Keely, darlin’—” Tack began.
“And who’s gonna drag Dutch’s ass
outta bed when he’s bein’ a pain. He’s in
kindergarten and he hates school so much, I know I’m gonna
have a fight on my hands for the next twelve years until he can see the end of
it.”
I will, Hound thought.
“We’ll be there for your boys,” Dog said.
It was like Dog didn’t speak.
She kept at them.
“And who’s gonna bring me a shit
ton of ibuprofen when I get period cramps so bad it makes me sick to my stomach
and I can’t move?” she pushed. “Who’s gonna make up
the hot water bottle for me and rub my back until they’re gone? Who’s gonna do that? Tell me, who?”
I will, Hound thought.
No one said anything.
But she still wasn’t done.
“And who’s gonna fuck me
breathless, make me come so hard I think the world is ending? Who’s gonna give it to me again and again and again, night after
night after night, just like I like it? Exactly like I like
it,” she bit out.
I will, Hound thought.
“Keely, honey—” Hop tried gently.
“It’s not done,” she spat, leaning toward Tack, her
gorgeous face twisting with an agony no woman should be forced to bear. “It’ll
never be done.”
“I used the wrong words, darlin’, I’m so sorry,” Tack
whispered.
“How done is he?” she demanded to know.
“Very done,” Boz answered firmly.
“Who did it?” she asked Boz.
“We all did,” Hop answered.
But her eyes went right to Hound.
And he looked right into them.
She knew.
There was a reason he was called Hound.
It started out as a joke, the guys digging into him about
his unusual first name.
But with the hell Crank had thrown them into, it became
other things.
Loyalty, one.
Stubbornness, another.
Difficult to rein in, and when he got the scent, impossible
to hold back, yet another.
Not giving up and going the extra mile until the job was
done, the last.
She was an old lady and she’d been around a long time.
But she was Keely, her heart as open and giving as her mouth
was smart. She was Black’s and she was Chaos’s and she loved it like that. She
knew every brother down to his soul. Even if they didn’t give her that, she
watched, she looked after them in any way she could.
She knew.
Because the first part that made Hound a hound was the most
important.
“We’ve lost Black, but you, Dutch and Jagger haven’t lost
Chaos,” Tack told her, and she turned her attention to him.
Hound felt his entire frame tighten when the change started
coming over her features, and he felt his brothers experience the same as the
air in the room went flat.
“I can’t do it,” she said quietly.
“You can,” Tack said firmly.
“The boys are lost,” she whispered, the agony of a woman
who’d lost her man melting into something far more difficult to witness.
The anguish of a mother whose boys lost their father.
“We’ll keep them steady,” Tack vowed.
“I’m—” she cut herself off and swallowed.
“We got you,” Tack said gently. “We’ll always have you.
We’ll always be there.”
Keely said nothing, she just stared in Tack’s eyes like she
was waiting for him to clap his hands, she’d wake up, and the nightmare she was
living would be over and she could rest in the knowledge it was all a bad
dream.
Tack didn’t do this because he couldn’t.
So she looked away.
“You want me to get Bev over here?” Boz asked.
Bev was Boz’s old lady, and Keely and her were tight.
It took visible effort but she looked at him. “No. If I’ve gotta go it alone, I gotta learn
how to do that.”
That was when Hound spoke.
“You’ll never be alone.”
She turned to him.
“You don’t get it,” she whispered. “He wasn’t the other half
of me. He didn’t complete me. He wasn’t my old man. He wasn’t my husband. He
wasn’t a dick I fell on. He wasn’t the father of my sons. He was,” her voice
suddenly got scratchy, “my life. He was my reason to get up every day
and breathe. He’s gone and losing that, losing him, I’ll always, always
be alone.”
Hound made no reply because he didn’t have one but also
because he again felt like he’d been punched in the throat.
“We’re gonna look after you,” Tack
told her, and her gaze went to him. “Please, darlin’, he’d want it this way, so
will you let us look after you?”
She tossed her head and the sheet of her hair glistened in
the light by her couch that was the only lamp lit.
“He’d want it that way, you’re right. So…yes,” she agreed.
“Let me get Bev over here,” Boz again suggested.
She looked to him.
Then she nodded.
“Boz, go. Call,” Tack ordered then turned to Hop, Dog, Brick
and Hound. “Just go. I’ll stay until Bev gets here.”
Hop, Dog and Brick nodded and moved to Keely.
Hound just moved to the door.
He turned to her and caught her eyes before he walked out.
He had no idea if she read his promise.
But it wouldn’t matter.
He was still going to keep it.