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.