He’d found a house.
But more, he’d got back the woman in it.
“It’s not a house, Zadie,” he replied.
Her face fell like he’d told her the world was coming to an end, but worse, it had run out of ice cream so she couldn’t stuff her face with it until the end of days.
“What is it, Daddy?” Cleo asked quietly, and he looked to his big girl.
“Straight up, worried how you both are gonna take this. So straight up, I’ll tell you again, it’s important. It’s important to me. And it’s important to me you both get what it means to me.”
Cleo’s face went guarded.
Zadie’s eyes got big.
High took in a breath and shared, “There was once a woman I knew who meant a lot to me. We’ve reconnected and found that didn’t fade with the years. We’re back together.”
Zadie collapsed back, ass to heels.
Cleo’s lips parted.
“She was before your mom,” High continued. “Haven’t seen her in longer than you been alive. But we’re back. She’s in my life. And I want you to meet her.”
“What about Mom?” Zadie asked, and High focused on her.
“Mom and Daddy are divorced, Zade,” Cleo informed her sister matter-of-factly before High could get in there. “And since they are, you need to deal.”
“Cleo, baby, be sweet,” High said quietly.
“She needs to deal, Daddy,” she returned.
“You aren’t wrong, Clee-Clee, but you gotta be cool with your sister,” he replied.
She looked away, not miffed, embarrassed.
He and his Cleo were tight. They had a bond. Normally, she could do no wrong in her father’s eyes and she knew it. Blossomed under it. Fucking loved it.
So whenever he laid it out, she wasn’t good at handling it.
“This sucks,” Zadie snapped, and High looked to her. “You and Mom belong together,” she declared.
He opened his mouth but Cleo got there before him again. “Wake up, Zade. That’s so not true.”
“Cleo,” High said low.
She shut her mouth.
“You wake up, Clee-Clee,” Zadie, eyes narrowed at her sister, shot back.
“Zadie, darlin’, look at your old man,” High prompted.
She turned narrowed eyes and pouting mouth his way.
“What your mom and I had is done, baby. She’s moved on. I’m movin’ on,” he explained.
“She hasn’t moved on,” Zadie returned angrily.
“She has, Zade. She’s like, so totally cooler now that Daddy’s not around,” Cleo stated then her eyes darted to her father. “Sorry, Daddy. But it’s true.”
“I get that,” he replied. “And givin’ that to your mom and gettin’ some of that myself is why we split.”
“You’re happier with Mommy,” Zadie declared, and got her dad’s attention back.
“I was happier bein’ with you,” he shared gently. “And now I’ll be happy, you be a good kid, take your dad’s back, meet Millie and open your mind because you meet her, you can’t help but like her.”
“Millie’s a stupid name,” she spat nastily.
The gentle went out of High and he did what he rarely did.
He stared into his baby girl’s eyes, not as her daddy, but as her father.
She fell to her hip in defeat and looked angrily at the edge of the table.
“I’ll be glad to meet her, Daddy,” Cleo said, and got her father’s smile.
“I’ll be glad to meet her, Daddy,” Zadie mimicked obnoxiously, and got her father’s attention.
“Zadie, look at me.” She stared at the edge of the table. “Won’t say it again,” he warned. Slowly, taking her time, she looked to him. “You’re upset, be upset at me. You’re feelin’ a lot and I get that. I know you don’t like what’s goin’ down and I don’t like that, but I can’t help it. All I can do is help you move along with your sister and me, and yes, your mom, but with your mom it’s in a separate way. What you do not do, ever, Zade, is take anything out on your sister. That’s not cool and both my girls are cool. Don’t prove that different.”
He got her with that.
Deb might not have been hip on Chaos but both his girls were brought up in the life. They had their father’s blood.
They were raised in his world.
They knew it was a priority to be cool.
He saw her chin wobble before she dropped her head to look at her lap.
“Hand,” he ordered.
Slowly, but with hesitation, not attitude, Zadie extended her hand on the table.
High wrapped his fingers around her little ones, and feeling their fragility, their warmth, the knowledge he had a part in creating those fingers, the pulse that beat in her wrist, he relaxed.
He also knew she might not make it easy, but she was her daddy’s girl.
She’d get there.
He gave her fingers a squeeze. “I need you to dig deep, Zadie. You got some time to dig deep and get there.” He looked to Cleo but kept hold of Zadie and went on, “But I got you this weekend and we’re spendin’ time with Millie. She’ll give us our space but we’ll be spendin’ a lot of time with her. And you’re my girls. I want you to show her how beautiful you are outside and all the way deep down. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Cleo said instantly.
“Yes, Daddy,” Zadie said a lot more slowly, doing that to her lap and tugging her hand from his so he let her go.
He got that. He wasn’t going to push for more.
So he let more than Zadie’s hand go and asked, “Anyone want dessert or just me?”
“Cherry cream cheese pie,” Cleo declared.
He winked at his big girl and looked to his baby, who still had eyes to her lap.
“Zadie?” he prompted.
“Cinnamon bun ice cream,” she muttered.
Deb would tell her to look at her mother (or her father) while she was speaking.
High didn’t push shit like that. She was feeling a lot, she was a little kid, and she needed space in her head to sort through it.
So he left her to it and flagged down a waitress.
He ordered his girls’ dessert.
They ate it.
He paid the bill.
Then he got to the part that sucked, even when Zadie’s dreamworld had been crushed and she was in a mood because of it.
He took them home and left, leaving them behind.
* * *
He walked into the back door to Millie’s house and saw Joker slouched back in her big chair, Millie stretched out on her couch, and that British program on the TV.
But before he even stepped through the door, he saw Millie’s head up and her eyes to him over the arm of couch.
She’d heard his truck.
She was glad he was home.
“You’re torturing a brother with that shit program?” he asked.
The gladness leaked out of her face as attitude took its place.
“It’s not shit,” she returned. “Joker actually likes Downton Abbey.”
High looked to his brother.
Joker was already looking at him and High could see at a glance that was bullshit.
He was putting up with it because she was Millie.
He’d probably do the same thing with his woman, Carissa.
Many brothers in hard ways, and the older brothers who’d been around awhile in hard ways they learned in the brotherhood, knew what was important.
They all knew a TV show was not that.
“You’re off duty,” High told Joker, and saw the relief.
He wanted to be home with his woman and her kid, a kid who was not Joker’s kid but the man treated him that way.
And he wanted to be free of Downton Abbey.
High felt for him having to watch that program but Joker was there because High asked him to be.
The brothers all had assignments on the Valenzuela deal and there was work to do at the shop and
store.
High wanted Joker on Millie.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his other brothers. It was that he liked the kid. They were tight. He felt something coming from him. The important kind of something that came from having a shit life, knowing what he was missing, and going all out to find it.
And keep it safe.
Joker found it with Chaos.
Then he found it with his woman and her kid.
And he’d go all out to keep who or what was important to any brother safe.
Truth was, they all would.
But for Joker, he was young, but he’d taken his licks, too many of them, and that ran deeper.
Joker pushed out of his chair, muttering, “Later, Millie.”
She called, “Xbox pause,” and shoved up, getting to her feet, following Joker to the back door, saying, “It was cool you looking out for me.”
“Not a problem,” Joker stated, caught High’s eyes, and said, “Brother.”
“Brother,” High replied as Joker moved past him and Millie got close to him.
He took hold of her. He let his brother hit the back door.
“Looking forward to meeting Carissa and Travis,” Millie said.
Joker looked back to her, hand on the handle. “She’ll be the same. We’ll get on that.” He jerked up his chin to her, slid his eyes to High, then moved out.
High let Millie go and followed him. He locked the door, went to the alarm panel, armed it, and then looked out her window.
Someone had brought Joker’s truck. He was in it and backing out of Millie’s driveway.
High turned to Millie.
There she was.
No sexy tight turtleneck, sexier tight skirt, and sexy as all fuck boots.
No sexy jammies either.
Instead, dark gray, loose-legged pants that still clung to her hips and a thin, tight, light pink long-sleeved top that had a deep vee showing cleavage.
Nice.
He moved her way.
“How’d it go with the girls?” she asked.
“Think Cleo’s lookin’ forward to meetin’ the woman in her dad’s life ’cause she loves her dad and wants him happy.” He got to her, put hands to her hips as she lifted hers and settled them on his chest under his shoulders. Once they had hold, he shuffled her back. “Think Zadie’s gonna act like a little snot ’cause she loves her dad and mom and wants to live the dream of her family together. So, my guess with my baby, it’s gonna take six point five visits with you to break through with her.”
She tipped her head to the side, both fear and amusement warring in her eyes as she asked, “Six point five?”
“Halfway through the seventh, she’ll find it,” he stated.
She grinned. That had fear and amusement too.
They’d got to the couch, so he let her go to shrug off his cut. He dropped it to the coffee table, where it slid to the floor. Then he put them on the couch, him on bottom, her on him.
“You have your boots on, Logan,” she told him.
His reply was, “Xbox turn off.” Then when he heard the tone, he said, “Yes.”
She looked to the TV that was blanking, then back to him. “I was watching that.”
He slid his hands from her waist to her ass. “Now you’re talkin’ to me.”
It didn’t take her long to decide what she’d prefer to be doing. It lasted about half a beat.
After she decided, she melted into him, shifting her face closer and sliding a hand up to curl it around the side of his neck.
“You worried about Zadie?” she asked.
“With you?” he asked back. When he got her nod, he answered, “Yeah.” He watched worry start to etch into her features and he slid his hands from her ass to wrap his arms around her. “But she’ll get there. Still worried but not about her and you. Just worried she lives in her dreamworld and life is far from a dream.”
The worry stopped and something else hit her face as she said quietly, “I don’t know about that.”
He knew what she was saying, and fuck, it felt good.
Even if it did, he replied, “Hard work to get to the good.”
“Makes it worth it.”
That felt good too.
Even so, he shared, “Babe, you’ll see. She figures she’s gonna live in a castle with her Prince Charming and when I say that, she’s dead set on it in a way it’s gonna be a crushing blow if she doesn’t get that shit. And she ain’t gonna get that shit. It sucks for her and it also sucks knowin’ that my baby girl isn’t gonna live her dream.”
“Castles and Prince Charmings come in a lot of different varieties, Low,” she told him. “She’ll grow up. She’ll learn that as she does.”
“Hope you’re right,” he muttered, his eyes moving to her mole.
“Oh, I’m right.”
His eyes cut back.
Fuck.
Now that…
That felt great.
Great enough he did what he should have done the minute he got a hand on her.
He slid his fingers into her hair, brought her down to him, and took her mouth. He also took his time. Only when she’d melted deep into him did he break it off.
“You have a good day?” he asked.
Her eyes were hazy, something he liked, and her words were breathy, something he also liked.
“Yeah. Got a lot done.”
He wanted her where she was now. He wanted to do a variety of things to her like she was now.
But they had other shit they had to get out of the way.
It sucked but it wouldn’t suck, having it out of the way.
So he set about doing that so they could move on.
“You served up some serious spunk when I showed this mornin’,” he noted.
Some of the haze left but she stayed relaxed into his body as she replied, “You served up some serious meanie when you showed up, so spunk was my only resort.”
Meanie?
He felt his body shaking as he shook his head on the pillow that was resting on the arm of the couch, doing this grinning.
He felt his grin die and twisted his hand in her hair.
“Wouldn’t admit this at the time, but lookin’ back, it’s good you didn’t take my shit.”
It was better than good.
She’d been fragile. He knew he had to handle her with care.
But he’d lost his mind when he’d heard Valenzuela had targeted her and done something about it. He’d been blinded by fury at Valenzuela at the same time blinded by fear that psychopath got to his girl.
With no choice other than to fuck the work it was taking way too much time to do to take down Valenzuela, he took it out on Millie.
She shoved it back.
That was the old Millie. She fought her corner. She didn’t take shit.
There was once a crew within Chaos who liked their women docile and obedient. That crew ran alongside the crew who wanted women who could roll with the changes, get off on the life, not be beaten down by it and exist through it.
That first crew was gone.
Only the rest remained.
And High had always been a member of that first crew.
Even if he’d allied with the other side.
This thought brought him back to the current subject.
“Tack says Valenzuela said nudge to you. He say anything else?”
She nodded. “His visit was short but he said a lot of things.”
“What kind of things?”
She studied him.
He didn’t like that because it meant she wasn’t answering him and more, she was assessing him and what his reaction might be to what she’d say.
“I’m not in that,” he told her.
Her head twitched. “Not in what?”
“Too dangerous,” he replied. “I’d want that, what you’re worried I’d do to Valenzuela. Was a day no way I’d agree to being forced out of dealin’ personally with a man who did what he did to you. But we’re close to takin’ d
own this guy. Not gonna be me who fucks it up. I think about him fuckin’ with you, just that could make me fuck it up. So I got one job. Keep a lid on it and trust my brothers to get the job done. I can do the last. Keepin’ a lid on it’s not gonna be easy. But I gotta dig deep so I can do that too.”
After he was done talking, she broke into a smile.
“Somethin’ make you happy?” he asked.
“He said he had to find the hothead,” she answered. “The weak link. The nudge was about using me to set you off, as he put it, to set things in motion.”
As she spoke, High felt his body string tight.
She had to feel it.
But she was still smiling.
“And here you are,” she whispered, dipping closer to him. “Looking after me and trusting your brothers. Proving that jackass wrong.”
“Was that,” he grunted.
Again her head jerked.
“Sorry?”
“Was that,” he repeated. “The guy who’d use any excuse to set anything off just to ride the edge, see if I’d fall off, not carin’ if I took my brothers with me.”
Her smile gone, her expression shifted to troubled.
“Logan—”
He cut her off, twisting his hand gently in her hair, doing it automatically to keep her close, hoping his words didn’t make her want to pull away. “Lost the woman I loved, didn’t give a shit about anything. Fuck, in the beginning, wanted to fall off the edge just to end the pain.”
Her troubled expression turned pained.
“Logan.”
That Logan was a breath. A wounded one.
“This ain’t gonna work unless we lay it out. So I’m layin’ it out,” he announced. “You’ve never been stupid. I know you knew. Chaos was into some shady shit back when we were together. And gotta admit, I got off on it then, mostly ’cause it made a shit ton of money and I wanted to give us a lot of things and to do it, I needed money. But it was more. It was a high and I liked to get high.”
He quit talking, letting that sink in.
It sunk in.
“Right,” she whispered.
He kept going.
“After I lost you, Chaos descended. Got in deeper everywhere. Lookin’ back, this was solely Crank’s fuck-you to Tack, who had other ideas about the Club and was puttin’ ’em into action, quiet-like. Crank was full-on paranoid that Tack wanted the gavel from the early days and he set about tying us up so tight in shit it was impossible to get loose, knowin’ it would tie Tack’s hands. Don’t think Tack gave a shit about the gavel until Crank started fuckin’ with the Club. Then Tack was all about wrestin’ that gavel from Crank. Crank underestimated him. Lotsa folks underestimated Tack back then. Tack proved that’s a mistake. Only Valenzuela does it now.”
Walk Through Fire Page 32
