And every time he saw her, he thought the waste of the end of Black’s life carried on.
The woman was beautiful. Years had passed and that beauty matured along with her. Throw in her being sweet as candy and funny as hell, the way her life ended when her man’s did was a tragedy. She had a lot to give in ways that goodness couldn’t be given just to her sons.
Tack thought, over the years, all that goodness bottled up, it’d explode and she’d find her way out from under the blanket of grief that was smothering her.
She never did.
And with eyes that were dead even if they were shining with anger, Tack reckoned it never would.
“Keely, darlin’, you know, the doors are closed, this room—” he started.
“Fuck what I know,” she bit out.
As asked, earlier that day, she’d hightailed it to Millie’s to look after High’s girls.
But the minute Pete got there, she took off.
It wasn’t his first choice to ask her to step in. Fuck, he’d never ask her to step in unless the situation was what it was and High needed his brothers around, and fast, to contain him.
Clearly, she hadn’t liked it.
“What we asked today, honey, we won’t ask again,” Tack told her quietly.
“Damn straight, Tack,” she returned, moving into the room and slamming the door behind her. “?’Cause, in case you didn’t get it the last time shit went south. And then the time before that and the time before that. You should get it now. For God’s sake, they took Millie.”
“You shoulda stuck around to see she was good,” Hound told her, and her eyes shot to him.
“I didn’t because I know Millie. Happy for High she’s back. Took forever and it’s good that shit is over. But if she sees me, she’ll be all up in my shit to heal me. I had enough of that from Pete. From Beverly. From all you all,” she returned. “Only reason Bev’s still around is because she stopped that shit.”
Bev was Boz’s ex. She and Keely remained tight.
And it wasn’t lost on Tack that was the reason.
“Keely—” he began.
Her eyes snapped to him and she ordered, “Pull back.”
“Woman—” Hound tried.
Keely didn’t look from Tack. “Whatever it is you boys are stuck in this time, pull back.”
He shook his head. “That’s not possible.”
She crossed her arms on her chest. “It’s not possible because your pride is at stake. The Club’s pride is at stake. But other, more important shit is at stake, too, Tack, and you’re far from dumb. You know it. Whatever this lunatic wants from Chaos that’s making him get into it with old ladies, give it to him and pull back.”
“Babe, you’ve got a place deep in my soul, straight up,” Hound said, and Keely looked to him. “But bottom line, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about.”
“I know why you two are here,” she returned, lifting a hand, finger pointed, to indicate him and Tack. She dropped her hand. “I know you, Hound. I know when you’re called in.”
“And you know I get the job done,” Hound replied, his voice soft, even tender, and Tack narrowed his gaze on his brother’s face when he saw the same reflected there.
Fuck.
That was a look in all their years as brothers Tack had never seen from Hound.
And that was not a look a man was giving the widow of his dead brother.
Fuck.
“It gives me no joy to say that at least when this asshole takes you out, Hound, you’re not leavin’ anyone who loves you more than the breath they take behind,” Keely shot back.
Tack watched the nearly imperceptible flinch strike Hound’s face.
Fuck.
Tack drew her attention to him. “Keely—”
“Do not call me again, Tack,” she demanded.
His mouth got tight.
She looked to Hound and everything about her changed. She went from pissed and belligerent to sad and defeated.
Seeing that, it also cut like a blade.
He remembered her. He remembered her young and in love and so fucking happy, she walked into a room attached to Black, or walked into a room Black was in, that happiness would warm every inch of the space.
Just like Millie was with High back in the day.
But Millie could get hers back.
Keely never would.
“Be careful,” she whispered to Hound. “Be super fuckin’ careful, Hound. Because you might not have a woman who loves you more than her own breath, but you still got folks who love you. So please, God, be careful.”
With that, she turned, her hair flying, yanked open the door, stalked out, and slammed it behind her.
Tack looked to Hound.
Hound was in control. His face neutral.
But his eyes were glued to the door.
“We done here?” Tack asked, and Hound cut his gaze to his brother.
“Yup,” he answered, pushing away from the wall.
Tack watched him walk around the other end of the table. He waited until Hound’s hand was on the door before he called his name.
Hound looked back at him.
“You know,” he said carefully.
“Know what?” Hound asked.
“You know you don’t go there.”
Hound’s brows drew together. “Brother, you call me when you got somewhere to go no one else can go. What the fuck?”
Tack shook his head but did it with his eyes locked to Hound’s.
“You know you don’t go there. She’s Black’s. Dead or alive, she’s Black’s. She can move on. I hope to fuck someday she does. But she can’t move on with Chaos.”
That got him something.
Hound looked pissed.
But his voice was quiet when he replied, “You think I don’t know that shit?”
“I know you know,” Tack returned. “Just remindin’ you.”
“Don’t need a reminder, brother,” Hound grated out. “Lived with that for years, bein’ in love with a woman I can’t have.”
Without hesitation, after delivering that, he threw open the door and prowled out. When he slammed it, it was louder and the door shook.
Tack stared at the door.