Page 230 of Smooth Sailing

But Ride in Phoenix was Tack’s idea.

“No, we don’t. Do we?” he asked Tack.

“Up to you, brother,” Tack replied like he didn’t give a shit one way or another.

And he didn’t.

Because Chew wasn’t worth a shit.

But he did.

Because they just proved beyond doubt that Hugger was.

“Did what just happened, just happen?” Hugger asked a question that didn’t need answering.

“It happened,” Tack confirmed.

They were buying a huge-ass commercial lot in an entirely different state and setting up a business so Hugger wouldn’t lose his family.

“Then I reckon we don’t have to talk about my bio-father,” Hugger said.

“That mean you get who you are?” Tack asked.

Hugger nodded.

“Say it, brother,” Hop urged quietly.

“Jackie McCain’s son,” Hugger said.

“And?” Hound pushed.

Hugger looked to Hound.

“And I’m Chaos.”

“Damn straight,” Hound grunted.

It took sheer strength of will to keep his head held up on his shoulders, the beautiful weight of all they were doing, all they were saying, was crushing.

Fuck, he wished his ma was still alive.

Fuck.

“We gotta perform some ceremony, like pulling the legs off a tarantula or something, to finally be rid of Arthur Fuckin’ Lannigan?” Hound asked.

Arthur “Chew” Lannigan.

Ex-Chaos.

Total motherfucker.

Hugger’s bio-father.

“Millie’d kick your ass if you hurt a tarantula,” High stated.

“One of her spike heels up your backside would sting, brother,” Jagger razzed his step-dad (that being Hound).

“Hugger,” Big Petey called.

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