Walk Through Fire

  “I haven’t seen Crank,” she said hesitantly.

  “That’s ’cause Crank’s dead,” he returned emotionlessly, watching her eyes widen in shock.

  “You were close,” she noted, still cautious.

  “We were. Then we were not.”

  “Why not?” she asked like she didn’t want to know.

  And she didn’t. He knew it.

  But she had to know.

  He tightened his arm around her, slid his hand to her jaw, and held her eyes.

  He also gentled his voice.

  “’Cause Crank ordered Black to be whacked.”

  That was when he watched her face pale and it jabbed into his heart as she whispered an agonized, “No.”

  “Yeah, baby,” he confirmed.

  “I haven’t seen Black.”

  “Ordered it, Millie, beautiful, and it sucks to tell you this, but that hit was carried out and it was done successfully.”

  The agony hit her eyes.

  Fuck him.

  Fuck him.

  Seeing her deal with it was reliving it.

  Fuck.

  “He’s dead?” she asked, like she wanted him to take that shit back.

  He wished he could.

  “Tat, babe, on my ribs, to remind us never to forget what’s important. Brothers. Blood. Family,” he stated. “The name on the other side of the scale is Cherry, Tack calls her Red, you know her as Tyra. Tack pulled the Club loose of the shit Crank tied us up in, turned the brothers around, turned it all around. Me and Arlo were not down with that. Money was less. Club’s reputation took a massive hit. We worked our assess off and put a lot on the line to get both only to pull out. And in the early days, because a’ that, danger was more for the brothers and our families. We lost Black. Chew renounced the Club. Crank had to be dealt with. All that shit went down ugly. But threads dangling from Tack’s cleanup that didn’t get snipped ’cause we were squabblin’ in the Club caught up Cherry. She was kidnapped. Stuck repeatedly. Nearly bled out in some house no one had ever seen. Tack found her, saved her. She survived. The Club pulled together. Now we’ll never forget.”

  Her eyes were huge. “That happened to Tyra?”

  “Yep,” he replied.

  “Oh my God.”

  “She’s a good woman, Millie. I know you have cause to have issues with her but she saw what I didn’t see in you and moved on it. I hold no grudge. You shouldn’t either.”

  “I don’t,” she told him.

  That was his girl.

  Fancy house. Designer duds.

  But she got the life. You knew when to hold grudges. You knew what earned retribution.

  You also knew when to forgive and you didn’t fuck around doing it.

  High gave her a squeeze.

  He figured she didn’t feel the squeeze when she said, “I just can’t… it’s impossible to believe…” She shook her head. “Low, that’s two old ladies who got caught up in Chaos business. Mine was nowhere near as bad but—”

  “Tyra got caught up in it not just ’cause of the Club but because of what her girl’s fiancé was into. Club had history with the man who perpetrated that but it was because of Lanie’s dead dickhead of a fiancé she got stuck. Club history just didn’t help things.”

  “Lanie’s fiancé?”

  “She’s Hop’s woman now. Her fiancé bit it and she went on to better things.”

  “I met her,” she said.

  “Know you did. She’s a good woman too. They all meddle. They’ll drag you into that shit. It’s just the way it is. But it comes from a good place.”

  She wasn’t interested in that.

  She was interested in something else and she didn’t mess around with telling him what it was.

  “What did Crank tie you up in that you found it hard to get loose?”

  The rest he gave her was far from easy.

  This was going to kill.

  But he had to do it. Nothing between them. Nothing held back.

  Not this time.

  “Whores and security,” he replied. “Chew pimped the girls. Arlo and me were in charge of security.”

  Her eyes were again huge and her face was beyond pale.

  “You ran security for Chaos prostitutes?” she asked in disbelief.

  “No, babe, I ran security for shipments of drugs and guns through or around Denver.”

  “Holy God,” she breathed, pulling away from him.

  Gentle, he pulled her back to him.

  And he laid it out just as gentle but he also did it straight.

  “You hooked your star to an outlaw, baby. You knew it back then. We didn’t discuss it but you can talk ’til you’re blue in the face and you won’t convince me you didn’t know. You loved me. You didn’t give a shit. You loved an outlaw and you took me as I was. That didn’t change except Crank put me in charge of it rather than me just bein’ a soldier. Things started goin’ bad for me and Crank when he took on the girls. It never got better.”

  “Chew pimped women?” she forced out.

  “There was an asshole under the decent guy. It was buried deep but it was there. Crank sniffed it out, then pulled it out. Hop was an enforcer for the girls and at Tack’s orders outside the table, he used Hop to get them ready to move on when Tack took over and cut all the girls loose. When Hop started that work, one piece of gash talked to Crank. Crank made a decision about what would be the catalyst to unite all factions in a brotherhood that was broken. Takin’ a brother out was the only way. He ordered that shit, blamed it on an enemy. Tack’s never been stupid, swear to fuck, he didn’t sleep until he had it solid the hit came from Crank.”

  “So who took down Crank?”

  He felt his jaw get tight.

  Her voice was pitched high when she asked, “You?”

  “No clue which bullet did the final deed, seein’ as he took one from every brother’s gun.”

  Her body, not relaxed into his, but tense as all fuck, reared like she was trying to flee.

  High held on tight.

  “Keely goes to Black’s grave every week, Millie. Years have passed. Every fuckin’ week.”

  She stilled when the tears hit her eyes.

  He kept at her in order to get it done.

  “They had two boys after you were gone. Both too young to know their dad was solid as a rock. A good man to his core. They can be told that. They’ve been told that. But they’ll never know.”

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  High kept going.

  “Crank picked Black because no matter the split in the Club, Black was the glue. We all felt it. We all knew big shit was coming and the Club might not survive. Only man who held us all together, both sides, even though he’d chosen one, was Black. That was why Crank picked him because he knew we’d all suffer that and bond together for vengeance. He took out a brother, Millie, and that is not okay. But he made that decision pickin’ the best of us. The most decent of us. The most loyal. And that is seriously not okay.”

  Her “No” was shaky but at least she said it.

  “Now it’s done,” he stated. “We all suffered black marks on our souls doin’ it and gettin’ it done. I’m not proud to say I got more of those marks than most. Not proud to share that Valenzuela knows part of this shit and that’s why he targeted me through you. I was weak. I was hurt and it made me weak. But I’m not gonna hide that because it’s done, because it’s part of me and because you need it all.”

  It wasn’t shaky, it was tortured, when she stated, “So it was me who did that to you too.”

  “Fuck no,” he clipped, and at the intensity of it, she stared. “Babe, I chose that path. I did. I chose the path that led away from you. You made it so I had no choice but to walk away. You did not make it so I couldn’t go back. I didn’t go back. That was my choice. And it was my choice to do everything I did in between. Every shipment I escorted through town. Every blind eye I turned to Crank’s bullshit. That’s on me. I live with that. It ain’t easy but God’
s chosen to keep me breathin’ so I figure He’s got work for me to turn that around and do good. Be a good dad. Get you back and take care a’ you this time. Whatever it is, I’m here to do it. I got His message. And I’m grateful.”

  “I don’t know what to do with all this,” she admitted carefully.

  “Nothin’ for you to do with it. You hooked up with an outlaw knowin’ you lived the outlaw life and knowin’ your outlaw would keep you safe doin’ it. Still got outlaw in me, Millie. All the brothers do. We use it to keep our family safe now. We patrol a ten-mile area around Ride, around Chaos, and keep it free of whores and dealers. Valenzuela wants that turf. We’re not givin’ it to him. We’re also not takin’ him out. We’re working with the cops to take him down. It’s a new Chaos era you’re back in with, Millie. The future is Joker and Shy and Snapper and Roscoe, and those brothers have been trained by Tack, Hop, Dog, Brick, Pete, and the rehabilitated me. We got one final enemy. We get him gone, we’re good.”

  “And what happens when you get another final enemy?” she asked.

  “Had years no issues until Valenzuela underestimated Tack,” he told her. “Like I said, you don’t underestimate Tack. He’ll surprise you and not in good ways. And his daughter is married to Shy, his lieutenant. And his son, Rush, is in the Club and Rush wants to clean up the rest of it.”

  He slid his fingers through her hair and finished it.

  “Watched it happen, Millie. God’s honest truth, even when we were on opposite sides, marveled at it. Took Tack decades. Longer even than when you and me met. But Tack built Chaos strong and tough in the only way any man should be strong and tough. Brotherhood. Loyalty. Family. Nothin’ else matters. It’s why a soldier puts his ass on the line for his country. It’s why a man walks through his house to make sure it’s safe before he goes to bed. It’s the measure of a real man. It’s Chaos.”

  “Did you know that was Chaos all along?” she asked.

  “What do you think?” he asked back.

  “But Tack wasn’t the leader then,” she pointed out.

  “Something drew him to the Club, just like me. Greed infested it. Politics tarnished it. Power plays shook it. But the foundation of the Club stayed strong and it wasn’t just Tack who kept it that way.”

  She said nothing.

  So he did.

  “Millie, I know this is a surprise but I also know, you dig deep, it also isn’t.”

  “It’s a lot to take in,” she told him.

  “It’s history.”

  Another head jerk as she took the bottom-line truth of that in.

  And High felt relief when her body relaxed slightly on top of his.

  “I can’t believe Black’s gone,” she whispered.

  “Walk into the Compound, look to the bar, think I’ll see him sittin’ there. To this day. So I can’t believe it either. And givin’ it all to you, I know it’s a lot, I’m still gonna say, like every brother that was there, I hope like fuck it was my bullet who ended Crank.”

  She stared at him, right into his eyes, hers again bright, and she replied, “I kinda hope that too.”

  She’d loved Black.

  She’d also loved Keely.

  And she wore designer threads and lived in a fancy-ass pad.

  But Millie Cross was born an old lady.

  Fuck, she was born to be his old lady.

  So she got it.

  High loosened his hold on her and started to stroke her back.

  “Keely’s gonna be glad to have you back,” he told her quietly.

  “She still hang with the Club?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No, baby. She gets her cut of Club income every month like Black was still alive. Boz’s ex, Bev, who he married then divorced after you were gone, was tight with Keely. Bev sticks close. Brothers take turns doin’ shit for the boys when they need a man. We stay as close as she lets us. But Black ended and when he did, Keely ended too.”

  “I know that feeling.”

  He knew she did.

  “Makes the fact we got a second chance one we gotta be sure we don’t fuck up,” he returned.

  She relaxed into him more. “Yeah.”

  “You had enough?” he asked, and she tensed again.

  “There’s more?” she asked.

  He stopped stroking, slid his fingers out of her hair, and wrapped her up in both his arms.

  “No, beautiful,” he answered.

  “Thank God,” she mumbled.

  He grinned because that was cute.

  But mostly he did it because she took it. She didn’t freak out, burst into tears, break down, have a drama.

  It was ugly.

  She took it all.

  She stuck close.

  That was done.

  The tough part over.

  Now their only obstacle was Zadie, and his baby girl would come around.

  He drew in a deep breath and let it out.

  Millie focused on him and returned her hand to his neck, curling it around.

  “That was hard on you,” she noted.

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “I’m out of practice being an old lady,” she told him, and he felt his lips curl up again.

  “You’ll get it back.”

  “What I mean is…” She looked to the TV and back to him. “I did hook up with an outlaw. I fell in love immediately with a man who did the same with me, didn’t hide it, let it shine, showed he was proud of it, and I had that. It was mine. He gave it to me. And I knew it was precious. So I didn’t care. I didn’t care what made you. I didn’t care what you did when you were away from me. I only cared what you did when I had you and the feeling you left when you weren’t with me. And I did it knowingly. Part of that was knowing it might be wrong. But I loved you so much, all of me didn’t care if it was.”

  Oh yeah.

  Fuck yeah.

  Millie Cross was made to be his old lady.

  His voice was gruff when he asked, “That change at all?”

  She shot his question of earlier back at him.

  “What do you think?”

  She was on him, touching him, looking right into his eyes.

  It hadn’t changed at all.

  He turned, rolling her to her back, declaring, “Gonna fuck you now.”

  She slid her hand back down to his chest and pushed. “Then let’s go to bed.”

  “Gonna fuck you here.”

  Her brows shot up. “And maybe leave a wet spot on the couch?” she asked in horrified disbelief.

  He put his mouth to hers. “Baby, it happens, it’ll clean.”

  “Eww,” she replied.

  Fuck, back in the day, his girl swallowed.

  He was looking forward to finding out if she was still down with that.

  But if she takes him down her throat, she could not have an issue with cleaning him off the couch.

  He wasn’t going to get into that. He was done talking about that shit. It’d take about ten seconds to make her forget about it.

  So he went about doing that and took her mouth.

  Though, he found out he was wrong.

  It only took five seconds.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Back at Ya

  Millie

  MY ALARM WENT off and I started to untangle myself from Logan to hit snooze.

  I didn’t move fast enough.

  Logan leaned into me and yanked the alarm out of the wall, causing the noise of the lamp shaking and the nightstand jolting to be heard. Then I felt my body and the bed shift alarmingly as he forcefully hurled it across the room.

  I heard it smash against the wall in a way I knew it was broken and suddenly I was wide awake.

  “Logan!” I snapped.

  He rolled on top of me, muttering, “Don’t live an alarm clock life.”

  I kept snapping. “Well, I do!”

  He kissed me.

  And then I didn’t.

  * * *

  I walked into the kitchen with the empty mug that
had been filled with coffee that Logan had brought to me while I was getting ready. I was in a wool herringbone skirt, a winter white, soft wool boatneck sweater, and black spike-heeled boots.

  The minute I walked in, Logan, ass to the counter, mug to his lips, dropped his eyes to my skirt.

  Then the boots.

  I watched his lips curl up even as he continued to take a sip.

  He approved.

  That felt nice.

  Regardless.

  “We need a chat about the alarm clock,” I announced. “Primarily you replacing the one you busted.”

  He sipped and his gaze went from my boots to my eyes.

  “Don’t make any appointments before ten, you got a human one.”

  I went to the coffeepot and started pouring more as I explained, “Sometimes I can’t make that decision. I have to meet my clients when they can meet as well as when I can.”

  “Now you can’t. Until after ten.”

  I shoved the pot back into the coffeemaker and looked to him.

  “Logan—”

  “Millie, not asking a lot.”

  I stared at him.

  Then I shared, “I offered Justine a job yesterday.”

  His head tipped to the side. “Say again?”

  “I’m always booked,” I began to explain. “I sometimes turn down clients. I can stop doing that and use the extra income to take on a part-time worker. I can also shift some of Claire’s responsibilities to Justine. I can then shift some of mine to Claire. I ran the numbers and it works. I take a minimal hit to my personal income that I’ll barely feel. And I’ll have more time.”

  I stopped talking and Logan just stared at me.

  So I kept talking.

  “I called her last night before you got home and Justine was ecstatic. I could afford to give her a raise in salary to what she’s making now, not much but everything counts, and working with me, she’ll rarely have to put her son in day care. Same with Claire, who’ll take on more responsibility. I talked to her too. She’s on board. It’s all fixed. Justine is putting in notice today. She’ll be on payroll by Thanksgiving, which is my busiest time. Bonus to that, the two Christmas clients I had to turn down I could pick up. I called them yesterday and did that too. They were almost more ecstatic than Justine.”