Tack didn’t get to the RV before the door was thrown open and High prowled out.
“Brother,” Tack called.
High didn’t even look at Tack. He marched right to his bike that was parked by his RV and threw his leg over.
“Brother!” Tack shouted over the roar of High’s Harley that he’d fired up, my man quickening his steps, which meant I quickened my steps, now running behind my husband.
High revved his bike, his head turned to look behind him as he began to back it out.
“Brother!” Tack bellowed just as he stopped close to High’s bike, and I skidded to a halt at his side.
Then I didn’t move a muscle as High turned his head and looked to my man.
I also didn’t breathe.
I was close with all of the brothers. Over the years, and there had now been many, through ups and downs, births and deaths, breakups, makeups, fuckups, we were tight.
But if I was forced to list which brother I was least close to, it would be High.
He was a good guy. He was a good brother. He was nice to me. He respected me truly and did this in word and deed and not because I was the president of the Chaos MC’s old lady but because he felt that for me.
But we weren’t that tight.
And I’d noticed he wasn’t close to any woman attached to the Club, not even, when he’d had her (which now he did not), his own wife.
I knew he’d bleed and die for his brothers. If it came down to it, he’d even do it for the old ladies.
That didn’t mean he’d shoot the shit with us at a Chaos hog roast.
Thus he didn’t.
And I had an idea that I’d just found out why.
Because that beautiful woman with tears streaming down her face who looked like she’d just been told the man she loved with every fiber of her being had been shot dead on the street had just come from High’s RV.
A High who looked like he was off to wrestle the devil himself to take over hell and had enough fury in his belly to win.
He didn’t address Tack. He backed out and roared away.
I stood next to my husband and looked into the darkness where High had last been.
When Tack moved, I shifted quickly, turning to face him.
“Who was that woman?” I asked.
He looked down at me and said the wrong thing.
“Do not get into this, Red.”
There it was.
This was big.
This was why High was High.
So this was something that I needed to know.
“Who was that woman?” I repeated.
Tack turned fully to me, got close, and bent his neck to capture my gaze through the dark.
“Do not get into this, Tyra,” he also repeated.
“Who… was… that woman?” I demanded.
I watched my husband’s jaw grow tight as he studied me.
We’d had a decade together.
He knew me.
So it wasn’t a surprise when he stated, “You know men got dream women, just like women got dream men, you bein’ mine.”
That was a good way to start, buttering me up, because I did know that.
He was my dream man.
I was his dream woman.
We didn’t just wear each other’s rings.
That was the truth of it.
And we’d shared that with each other in a myriad of ways over the years.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Her name is Millie Cross,” he went on. “And ’bout twenty years ago, she used to be High’s woman.”
“I think I got that part,” I informed him.
“No, Red,” he said, getting closer, lifting a hand to curl it around the side of my neck. “She was his and she was his. As in, his dream woman.”
Uh-oh.
“Crap,” I muttered.
“Yep,” he agreed. “And you know how High got himself addicted to the rush of doin’ stupid shit that was also felonious in order to make a shitload of money for the Club?”
Uh-oh!
Now ancient history, the Club doing felonious shit, my man had seen to that, dragging his brothers along for the ride.
Though, truth be told, most of them were willing and invested every step of the way to the point they bled for the Club to be clean.
And one died for it.
High had been harder to convince that the Club needed a new direction.
“Yes,” I replied slowly.
“When she gutted him, gettin’ shot of his ass, tellin’ him he had no ambition and she had graduated from college and had a golden life ahead of her so, since he was tainted with Chaos so deep, she knew he’d never get a real life. This meant he had to fuck off. Which he did. And that was when he went so deep into that shit, it took what happened to you years later to pull him out.”
What happened to me was that I’d been kidnapped, and stabbed repeatedly, by an enemy that used to be an ally of Chaos. An enemy that High had wanted to reaffiliate with.
Until that enemy nearly killed me.
“Shit,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” Tack agreed. “That bitch is not a bitch. That bitch is a biker-hating cunt and I have no clue why the fuck she’s here except to fuck with High’s head ’cause she spent three years doin’ that and got way the fuck off on it.” He looked beyond me and muttered, “Probably got herself dumped. Maybe has kids to take care of. Lookin’ for some fuckwad who’s stupid enough to take on her shit and thinkin’ wrongly with the way he fell for her that’d be High.”
I stared up at my husband, the sharpest man I knew, wondering how, at least with one thing, he could be so dumb.
“Uh, I don’t think so.”
His gaze cut back to me. “Come again?”
“The woman we just saw was the female adult equivalent of a six-year-old who just learned there’s no Santa Claus, no Easter Bunny, and she was adopted.”
He looked to the heavens and muttered, “Fuck.”
“Seriously,” I snapped.
He looked back to me. “Red, I’m tellin’ you,” his fingers on my neck squeezed, “do not get involved.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “As his brother, seeing him, seeing her, how could you not get involved?”
He dipped his face close to mine. “’Cause she was runnin’ away, which means I hope like fuck she stays away. And if she doesn’t, I’ll do everything in my power to set her away in a way she gets my goddamned message and stays… the fuck… away.”
“Tack—”
“Tyra, do not get involved,” he ground out.
“Whatever happened between them, she was devastated,” I hissed.
“Good,” he clipped. “She rained that shit on High, she deserves it and a fuckuva lot more.”
Loved my man.
But I was right.
Like any man blinded by loyalty to a brother, about this shit he was so dumb.
“Has it occurred to you that a biker-hating woman would be nowhere near Wild Bill’s field no matter what she might need unless what she needs is what she needs?” I asked.
“Nothin’ occurs to me except takin’ my brother’s back, Tyra,” he returned. “And you need to listen to this, baby, and let it sink way the fuck in. Every brother is gonna do the same and you do not wanna go against Chaos on shit like this. The ones who didn’t live that with him will hear about it and we’ll be all in in a way you’ve experienced once. When we all put our asses on the line to save your life.”
I drew in a sharp breath.
He heard me do that and muttered, “You get me.”
“Tack—”
“Let it go.”
“Tack!”
“Red.” He got super close. “Let… it… go.”
He stared into my eyes.
I stared into his.
Neither of us said a word.
Tack broke the silence.
“You gonna let it go?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I snapped.
He drew back a bit and grinned.
“Take your mind off it.”
I rolled my eyes.
He came back in and brushed my mouth with his. “Still riding the high of the Trench, baby. Now wantin’ to ride something else.”
It sucked but even after a decade with this man, I knew he was a very good rider, so even ticked at him, that did it for me.
I reached out and grabbed his hand, declaring, “We’ll talk more about it later.”
“No, we won’t.”
“We so will.”
He shook his head, turned, and tugging my hand, grinning again, he led me to our tent.
We got in it and my husband took my mind off High and a woman called Millie Cross.
He did it thoroughly.
But even so, I was me.
So it was only temporarily.
Millie
Twenty-three years earlier…
“Five?” I asked incredulously.
“Five,” he answered, grinning up at me.
I was naked on top of Logan in his bed in the two-bedroom apartment he shared with some guy who was not Chaos.
But, since Logan figured his time as a recruit was coming to an end, and his pay at work would increase, this meant he was planning to move into a different place that was only his.
He’d just made love to me after taking me to a fancy steak dinner at the Buckhorn Exchange.
It was fantastic. I got to dress up. I got to see Logan’s version of dressed up (nice shirt, not-too-faded jeans, the ever-present leather cut declaring he was a motorcycle club recruit).
He’d not blinked an eye when I got carded after I ordered a beer and showed my fake ID (though he’d teased me about getting away with it when the waiter was gone).
He’d talked me into trying Rocky Mountain oysters (not my favorite) and elk (delicious).
We’d laughed, talked, held hands over the table, and played footsie under it.
In other words, this, our fourth date, was just as good as all three preceding it.
Now we were in his bed and Logan had just told me he wanted five kids.
Five.
My “Seriously?” was again incredulous.
He shrugged against the mattress, still grinning up at me, and explained, “Only got a sister and we’re close. All a’ us. Don’t know why my parents didn’t have more. They didn’t share. Maybe by the time they made their own, they were worn out from the ones their folks had made. Though I think in the beginning it was money and not bein’ able to afford havin’ more. But my folks both came from big families. My dad’s got two brothers and a sister. Ma’s got two brothers and two sisters.”
His arms wrapped tighter and he kept talking.
“Love my family, Millie. Love spendin’ time with them. And I got a lot of that growin’ up. The best times were holidays. Nearly all Dad and Ma’s kin still lived around Durango and we’d get together all the time. Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas. Lots of food. Loud. Wild. All the kids would go trick-or-treatin’ together, big brood, terrorizin’ the neighborhoods. Huge graduation parties. Big sweet-sixteen parties. We were tight and it was a blast.”
I was no longer incredulous.
I was deeper in love.
“You miss it,” I said softly.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Think, later, my folks wished they didn’t stop. All except for two of their brothers, the rest went whole hog with makin’ babies and not many have moved away, so they still got that in Durango. Same goodness, gettin’ bigger all the time. Fuck, my uncle had to put up a tent last Thanksgiving and heat it so he could put tables out there ’cause there was no room in the house. Which meant, all a’ us out there got to be even louder and rowdier and he didn’t give a fuck. Loved it. We all do.”
I smiled at him. “Sounds like fun.”
His arms around me gave me a squeeze. “Take you there next Thanksgiving.”
That was a future date I was very much looking forward to.
Then again, four days, four dates, and I looked forward more and more to every one.
“I just have a sister,” I told him, changing the subject because I didn’t want to scare him with showing just how much that was true. “Always wanted a brother too.”
He lifted a hand and touched his finger to my temple, trailing it down and back, over my ear until he cupped his hand around the back of my neck.
“You’re young, baby, but you think about kids?” he asked.
“My sister is the absolute best and no way in hell I’m gonna live a life where I don’t have two girls who can share a room and have bunk beds and giggle every night so much me and my man have to shout threats at them to shut up,” I declared, and watched in wonder as his face got soft.
Seeing that, I decided I wasn’t done.
“If this means I have to have three boys before I get my two girls, or five boys, I don’t care. I’m going until I get two girls.”
He started chuckling, his brown eyes lit with humor and warmth, but that soft look never left his face.
“So, you’re prepared to push out seven kids,” he remarked.
“That would not be the optimal scenario,” I replied. “But, yes. To get what I want I’m prepared.”
“Well, I want boys. I’ve got a sister, good friends back in Durango. Havin’ that, not losin’ it even leavin’ town and leavin’ them behind when I headed out to see what was up next in life meant I looked for it here in Denver. And that led me to Chaos. So I know what havin’ a brother is but wish I had it all my life. Want my boys to have that.”
“So, best case, two boys, two girls. Worst case, two boys, two girls, and various wildcards,” I replied, and Logan chuckled again.
“Yeah, though, worst case don’t sound too bad either.”
He was right and I didn’t care that we only had four dates and it was early.
Four dates had done it for me.
This was my guy.
So the thought of giving him as many babies as he wanted thrilled me to pieces.
I didn’t want it the next day or week or month.
But when I got close to graduating from college, I wanted to start thinking about it because I wanted it early so I could be young and enjoy my kids and then be young and enjoy my grandkids.
“Start early,” I whispered hesitantly.
“Oh yeah,” he agreed instantly.
See?
This was my guy.
We agreed on everything. Not just everything that meant something, everything as in everything.
His gaze grew intense on me right before he rolled us so he was on top.
“Gotta get you home soon but want a little more of you before I hafta let you go,” he told me.
Oh yes.
We agreed on everything.
I melted under him.
“Okay,” I agreed.
His eyes warmed a different way before he slanted his head and kissed me.
Logan got a little more of me and I got a lot more of him.
Then he took me home.
I hated to say good-bye at my parents’ front door.
But it wasn’t that bad.
Because we had plans the next night.
CHAPTER FOUR
A Tragedy
Tyra
“RIGHT,” ELVIRA, SITTING in my car next to me, stated. “I’m wired for sound. I go in, you listen in. Now, I’m likin’ this ’cause for me, it kills three birds with one stone. It breaks up the tedium of herdin’ commandos all day. It gets you intel on your girl. And, seein’ as she’s a party planner and I called all her references before I set up this gig, she and me do this sit-down, I get the prelims done for my wedding.”
She then clapped her hands together and held them palm out in front of her, indicating done.
“Uh… don’t you think it might be bad luck to start planning your wedding before Malik actually pops the question?” Lanie, crammed in my backseat, asked Elvira.
Elvira twisted around to glare at her. �
��Uh… no, seein’ as Malik’ll be the one with the bad luck if that man don’t put a ring on it and soon. He don’t, I got two choices. Kick his black ass out or kill him. And, just sayin’, I’m leanin’ toward door number two.”
She didn’t have to “just say.” She’d been ranting about this for months, so we already knew.
I didn’t blame her. Elvira was my girl and Malik was her man and had been for a long time. He needed to make a move.
I felt for her because I loved her.
But this was not the time for that.
“Not to change the subject from one this important,” I put in. “But I don’t have a good feeling about our current mission.”
It was only three days after Wild Bill’s rally.
In that time, I had taken into consideration my husband’s warnings to stay out of it.
Then I (and all the boys) had been treated to High’s foul mood.
So I decided to go for it.
To that end I’d roped in Elvira, my friend who also worked for Hawk Delgado, who was a kind of private investigator, kind of commando, but mostly unsung superhero (in my mind). I’d also pulled in Lanie, my bestest bestie, who had traveled my path. She’d just done it years later when she, too, married a Chaos brother, Hopper “Hop” Kincaid.
Once she heard, being one to dive in to something like this with both feet, Elvira made short work of doing the legwork, utilizing Hawk’s superhero resources at his command center.
Therefore we knew a fair amount about Millicent Cross.
We knew she was forty-one. We knew she’d never been married (something I found telling, and Lanie and Elvira agreed). We knew she also had never had children (again with the telling). We knew she’d lived in her house for eleven years.
But we also knew that, years ago, she’d shared a rental with High and they’d done that for three years.
Further, we knew she had one sister, who was married with two kids and lived local, and two living parents who had moved to Arizona three years ago.
And last, we knew she owned her own business.
She planned parties.
All parties.
Weddings. Anniversaries. Bar mitzvahs. Bat mitzvahs. Quinceañeras. Corporate gatherings. You named it, she planned it, and after Elvira had called the references listed on her website, we’d found that she did it very well.
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