Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“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.