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 on to 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 workin’ 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 breakin. 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.