Worried like fuck, was gonna follow you.
Got an emergency passport.
Oh yes, that was my Logan.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered.
“I do,” he returned. “You’re gonna have to put up with those boys comin’ back because they’re gonna be installin’ a system in your office. Don’t know why I didn’t do that shit the first time around but it’s gonna happen as soon as I can set it up. You’re also gonna be vigilant about keepin’ it active. You’re not gonna fall down on that or, swear to Christ, Millie, even if nothin’ goes down and I find you did, I’m gonna lose my mind. And you’re gonna put up with Chaos protection. My boys got fences to mend with you but you’re gonna speed that up because, don’t give a fuck you got a system, that motherfucker got to you. Now every old lady, when her old man’s not close, has a man on her. First up for you is Joker.”
When Logan jerked his head to the side, I turned to the man standing close.
“Uh… hi, Joker,” I mumbled.
He grinned at me.
He was young.
But he was cute.
“Can you do me the favor of unpinnin’ your woman from the wall so we can have a chat with her?” Tack asked from behind Logan.
At that, Logan moved to my side, hooked me around the neck with his arm, yanked me to him a different way, loving and protective but annoyed (which was acceptable), and looked to Tack.
“Your presence here was unnecessary,” he growled.
“You tore outta that meeting; no tellin’ where you were goin’ and what you’d do,” Tack replied patiently. “You hit Millie’s, in your mood, what went down, what she didn’t share, what you didn’t know, you know, any brother got that news, every brother would be on his ass so he didn’t fuck things up when he got home.”
They’d started out trailing him because they were worried he’d go after Valenzuela.
They’d ended up doing it to make sure what we were rebuilding was protected.
I wasn’t sure I had fences to mend. Hop had hurt my feelings with Candlebox but he didn’t know what was happening. He was doing what any brother would. Taking his brother’s back.
But if there were any fences to mend, the boys there right then would have mended them.
I wasn’t certain I intended to share that information at the present juncture.
However, if I was, I didn’t get a chance because Logan declared, “That’s bullshit, brother, and you know it. Minute a man hit his home, the brothers would ride off ’cause that shit’s not their business.”
“Right, then I’ll amend my statement,” Tack returned. “We rode in to keep your shit straight with Millie because you both finally got your heads out of your asses and a fuckin’ asshole like Benito Valenzuela shouldn’t fuck up anything that important.”
Tack had always kind of intimidated me simply because he was so sharp, it was uncanny.
But I’d also always liked him.
I could feel Logan gearing up to reply to Tack but I had work to do and it seemed our latest drama was petering out, so I had to move things along.
I did this by looking at Joker.
“You’re in luck,” I shared. “Logan did a massive grocery shop, so there’s tons of food in the house. And I’m a big TV gal. Anything you want is at your command. That is, if you know how to operate an Xbox. But if you don’t,” I smiled at him, “I’ll teach you.”
He smiled back but my enjoyment of the attractiveness of this was abbreviated when I had to turn my attention back to Logan, who was growling at me.
“For fuck’s sake, Millie, he’s not here to kick back and watch the tube. He’s here to watch your ass.”
“That doesn’t mean he can’t be comfortable doing it,” I returned.
“Uh… yeah it does,” he replied sarcastically. “Hard for him to take in a movie at the same time pay attention to you to make sure you’re covered.”
I turned in his hold and started glaring.
“Well, excuse me. I’ve never needed protection before. I don’t know the protocol.”
That was most assuredly the wrong thing to say considering Logan’s face clouded with thunder to the point he looked ready to blow.
“Right, you two can keep squabbling later. Now, Millie, we gotta have words,” Tack stated.
I looked to him and took the opportunity he gave to put a line under the current scenario. To do this, I threw out an arm as best I could since Joker was still close.
In fact, all the brothers were still close.
Regardless, I managed it and invited, “Why don’t we move this to the living room?”
I watched bikers shuffle out of my foyer, most of them grinning at their boots, some of them grinning at me.
And considering the drama had petered out, belatedly it hit me Chaos was in my home.
That particular hit felt like velvet.
Logan and I were the last to move out but before we did, I grasped onto his thermal at his stomach and stopped him.
He looked down at me.
“I should have told you,” I said quietly. “I do feel I have an excuse but I’m still sorry.”
Any storm still threatening his expression cleared and he bent his neck to touch his mouth to mine.
When he lifted away, he said not a word as he moved us after his brothers.
But he didn’t need to say a word.
I knew my apology was accepted.
“Jesus, this pad is phat,” Boz declared, and I saw him glancing around when we walked into the living room.
I’d been close to Boz. Losing all the brothers had been a hit. But losing Boz and Black had cut deeper.
I studied him warily, suddenly realizing all I was getting when I got Logan back. Or more accurately, suddenly realizing all I hoped I was getting when I got Logan back.
Logan would have been enough. Logan was heaven.
If this was what I hoped it was, it was nirvana.
“Millie—”
That came from our other side and I looked that way to see Hop had his eyes to me.
Attractive gray eyes that held regret.
“Don’t,” I whispered. He opened his mouth but I shook my head. “Don’t. I get it. It’s done. I hope we’re moving on.”
“It was a dick thing to do,” he stated.
“It was being loyal to your brother,” I returned. “I get it. I’ve got it.” With my arm around Logan’s waist, I tugged him closer to me. “Let’s move on.”
Hop looked at me, at Logan, then at me and he jerked up his chin.
That meant we were moving on.
I gave him a small smile.
“We all got shit to do,” Tack declared, and my attention turned to him. “So let’s get on with this so we can do ours and leave Millie to do hers.”
No one said anything and I didn’t look away from Tack, so he kept going.
“I think you get we got an issue with Valenzuela. We’re work-in’ on this with Brock Lucas and Mitch Lawson of the DPD.”
I felt my lips part at this shocking news.
Cops?
And Chaos?
Tack ignored my open astonishment and kept talking.
“They’ll want a statement from you about the break-in. We’ve talked and you can press charges for that, and what he did isn’t good, but when that asshole goes down, we wanna have enough on him to stay down. We also don’t want you any more focus than you’ve already been with Valenzuela. You press charges for breaking and entering and harassment with criminal intent, it might hold, but it won’t hold him long and it leaves his soldiers on the street to do his bidding. So we’re askin’ you to make a statement so it’s on record. But we’re also askin’ you not to press charges so we can keep doin’ what we’re doin’ to bring him and his crew down.”
“I… you…” I shook my head. “You’re working with the police?”
“Yeah,” Tack replied like that wasn’t totally insane. “We’re gonna do a sweep, make sure no
eyes are on you or anyone who’s got our protection. But we still don’t want you goin’ to the cops or havin’ them meet with you here. We’ll escort you to a private location so you can share what happened with Slim and Mitch and no one will know. You good with that?”
Hesitantly, I nodded.
“You lived the life, darlin’,” he said quietly. “Been a while but you’re back and it’s not shit you forget. So you know our world. You know what he did earned him more trouble than he already had from us. Old ladies are untouchable.” He lifted a hand my way even though I made no move to reply. “We all get where you and High were at but I reckon Valenzuela thought different and he made his approach all the same. We’ll be makin’ moves to ensure he goes down but I want you to know from what’s just happened we’re also makin’ moves to protect our own. It won’t happen again. You’re good. We’ll keep you that way.”
Suddenly, I started trembling.
I had Logan back.
I had his family back.
They had an enemy, that enemy threatened me, and that was not good.
But I had Logan back.
I had his family back.
And they were going to take care of me.
And that was so overwhelming in a good way I could do nothing but stand there and take it all in.
Tack in my living room.
Boz. Hop. Pete.
I was in my home.
But I felt like I’d just come home.
Tack, either allowing me my reaction without noting it or missing it (the latter was doubtful), went on, “High’s gonna fill you in on what you need to know. What you need to know from us is what I told you. That shit could happen to you because the circumstances between you two made it so it could happen. And Valenzuela is greedy and insane, but he isn’t stupid. He chose well. But if he does get eyes on you, he’ll see you’re fully in the fold. I don’t figure he’ll be that stupid again. Won’t matter, we’ll make sure he isn’t.”
I managed to nod and then something struck me and I looked to the side of my cuddle chair.
The crate was gone.
Like Valenzuela, in all the time shared with Logan, I hadn’t thought of it.
And it being gone freaked me out.
“The crate,” I whispered.
“What, babe?” Logan asked.
I tipped my head to look at him. “The crate. He took it from the Dumpster. He brought it back.” I pointed to the floor by the chair. “It was by the chair.”
High’s mouth got tight, his eyes cut to Tack, then back to me.
They came back in time for me to say, my voice rising in hysteria, “It’s gone. Do you think he came back and got it?”
“Millie, beautiful, shit was intense with us and I wanted that to play out with no distractions so I moved the crate to the closet in your empty bedroom.”
I sagged against him for two reasons.
The crate was home and safe.
And that crazy man hadn’t been back.
“Four, nine, one, three,” Logan said quietly.
The security code.
He saw my panic.
And he had me covered in a variety of ways.
“Four, nine, one, three,” I replied quietly.
He shifted his arm around me so his hand cupped me under my jaw.
Then he bent in for another kiss. No lip brush but also no tongues. However, this one lasted longer than the one in the foyer.
And when he lifted his head, my panic was gone.
He let go of my jaw when a presence moved into our space.
We both looked that way and I saw Pete standing there.
I held my breath at the bright in his eyes as he looked between us.
Those eyes landed on me.
“Fuck, sweetheart, so good to have you back,” he whispered.
I made a noise as I choked back the tears and moved out of Logan’s hold toward Big Petey.
His arms closed around me tight.
Folded in the arms of Chaos.
Oh yes.
I’d come home.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It’s Chaos
High
HIGH SAT IN Bonnie Brae Tavern with the remains of a huge-ass pizza on the table between him and his girls in their booth.
Cleo was on her ass, munching.
Zadie was on her knees, leaning into the table, devouring.
It was rare she didn’t sit like this, his baby girl. He figured she did it because she always had to be ready to launch herself into any adventure that came her way.
Same with how his Cleo was sitting. Life would be what it would be and she’d face it on her own terms.
As planned, he’d picked them up from school. He’d taken them home. He’d made sure they did their schoolwork and straightened up the breakfast dishes in the kitchen so their mom didn’t come home from work to face that shit. Ditto with their rooms.
Then, before Deb got home, he took them out.
He and Deb limited the amount of time they spent in each other’s presence. Not that they didn’t get along. Just that any of that kind of thing could get Zadie’s hopes up.
They didn’t make a habit of avoiding each other so the girls wouldn’t worry that things between them were deteriorating. They just didn’t spend much time together—the occasional dinner and the usual hand-off of visitation being the exceptions—so the girls would know it was cool but wouldn’t think anything beyond that.
Now, the occasional dinner would stop. Deb would be okay with that. But any time he had the girls outside his weekends, that time would be spent with Millie.
Since he picked them up, the vast majority of the conversation had been about what they’d done during the dump of snow, even though most of this was hanging in front of the television. Even if it was, Zadie could make wild stories up about anything. She could jabber in the Olympics and win gold, including doing this about lazing around and watching TV.
But the pizza was almost decimated. He needed to get them home so Deb could get them settled before bed. And he needed to get back to Millie.
Even so, these times were now rare, so when he had them, he savored them. That meant High sat back, watching his girls eating, Zadie doing it babbling, and he gave himself a moment to take them in.
And while he did, not for the first time, he noted that, apparently, his genes were dominant.
They had nothing of their mother in them.
Deb was blonde and blue-eyed. When she’d started to go gray, she shocked the shit out of him by caring and turning to a bottle. She did that in their bathroom, stinking up the place, something he didn’t like. But he didn’t say anything because it wasn’t worth it with the result since what she did made her look good.
She was pretty. She was relatively petite.
And she didn’t look anything like her girls.
She also didn’t look like Millie.
Millie was five-seven, which meant she had length to her, long shapely legs he got off on, but she was short enough she could put on heels and he’d still top her. Millie also had meat on her. A round ass. Full tits. A bit of a belly even back in the day when they were younger, something she hadn’t lost in the time in between.
He liked it. All of it. Even before Millie, the shape of Millie was what attracted him to a woman.
Deb was five-four. She was careful with what she ate. She worked out on her lunch hour and went to the gym on the weekends. She had to be at least five pounds underweight.
At her height, it looked good. Her tits grew when she had the girls and she didn’t lose them and that looked good too.
But there was not much to hold on to. Not much to dominate in bed. He’d fucking loved hauling Millie’s ass around (and still did). Getting her where he wanted her, positioning her how he wanted her.
Deb got off on that, mildly, but there was no challenge to it. Fuck, he could throw her across the room without any effort. Not that he’d do that shit. Still, nothing was worth it that didn’t take w
ork.
If Deb wasn’t at work and even when she wasn’t at the gym, she lived in workout gear. Skintight running pants. Those spaghetti strap camisoles in breathable fabrics. Adding a jacket when it got cold. Running shoes on her feet.
He’d like to see Millie filling out any of that shit.
What he wouldn’t like, and didn’t, was that being all he got.
Neither of their girls leaned toward their mother in any way. Both of them had his hair, very dark brown, lots of body and wave. They had his dark brown eyes too. They also had his frame. Long legs, proportioned torsos. They were tall for their age, so they were going to get his height.
They were already beautiful.
When that beauty ripened, he was going to be fucked.
Worse, they were girls. They liked clothes. Hair shit. Boy bands. And Cleo was already asking to use makeup.
So that meant, when they got older, and the lure of boys got keener, he was absolutely going to be fucked, not just because they’d turn their attention to guys, but the way they looked, boys would turn their attention to his babies.
But that was, he hoped to God, a few years away.
Right then, he had other shit to face.
And he needed to get down to it and face it.
“Babies,” he called, and Zadie’s eyes shot right to him even as she stuffed a piece of pepperoni in her mouth.
He grinned at her and looked to Cleo.
She was watching him soberly and doing it chewing with her mouth shut like her momma taught her.
High leaned forward. “Need to share somethin’ with you,” he told them gently. “Somethin’ important.”
Zadie threw her arms straight into the air as she cried, mouth full of pepperoni, “You got a house!” She dropped her arms and leaned into her hands on the table. “Can we go see? This weekend? After school? Do we have a big bedroom?”
Walk Through Fire Page 31
