“You need to talk straight to High, Millie,” Tack returned, weirdly gentle, like he was handling me with care. “You know how it is, darlin’,” he finished.

“Why?” I asked. “He’s not president.”

“It’s his business, not mine,” Tack replied.

“It is yours. It’s,” I whirled a finger in the air, “all of yours.”

Tack started to say something but I felt a hand light on the small of my back so I whirled, then I scampered four steps deeper into the room, running into a chair and stopping.

“Do not touch me,” I hissed at Big Petey.

He flinched, his face turning haggard with worry, then he looked at Tack.

I also looked at Tack and saw him watching me closely.

“High’s at the store, Millie. He’ll be here soon,” Tack said.

“I don’t give a fuck where he is,” I retorted. “You’re the president. You deal with shit like this. I know. I know this is your shit because he told me. Benito Valenzuela sat in my,” I jerked a thumb toward myself, “cuddle chair while one of his minions pointed a gun at me and he told me!”

The room, on alert, went wired but I didn’t give that first shit.

“Keep him away from me,” I snapped. “You don’t, I call the cops. Your shit stopped infesting my life at The Roll while Hop sang a Candlebox song.”

“Valenzuela visited you?” Tack asked, and I heard it.

I heard the menace.

Hell, I even felt it since it was clogging the room.

“He told me to tell you nudge,” I shared. “I don’t know what that means. I don’t care. Just keep that asshole out of my life.”

“Millie, honey, you need to take a breath and take a seat. Let me get you a drink,” Pete offered, and I cut my eyes to him.

“I don’t want a drink. I want nothing from Chaos except for them to get the fuck out of my life!” I ended this screaming and I ended it right before a door closed.

I looked that way and saw the blond.

I also saw Hop.

And further, I saw Logan.

He looked surprised. He looked watchful. He also looked guarded. And he looked all of these as his attention was focused entirely on me.

But the brutal beauty of the vision of him burned. Burned straight into my eye sockets, searing right into my brain.

I’d let him go to give him everything.

I’d searched for him to explain and say how sorry I was it had to be that way.

And he’d used me, abused me, and torn me to shreds.

Then his shit invaded my home, not the bad shit that was him and his brotherhood, the stinking pile of shit that was whatever mess Chaos was involved in with Benito Valenzuela, something they were clearly failing to control.

“This is the last time I see you,” I told Logan.

“Millie,” he said quietly, moving my way slowly. “Let’s go back to my room so we can—”

It happened then.

There was no way to hold it back.

I no longer had it in me.

So I leaned his way and lost it.

Completely.

“This is the last time I see you!” I screeched.

He rocked to a halt as my emotion scored jagged through the room.

I looked to Tack and jabbed a finger his way again. “You keep your business out of my business.” I jabbed my finger toward Logan but kept my gaze to Tack. “And you keep him out of my life.”

“Millie, baby,” Logan, now talking gently, said as the door opened and Hound and Boz came in, eyes instantly darting around to take in the players. “Come with me to my room—”

“Fuck you!” I spat at him, and looked back to Tack. “Deal with it. You don’t, I will.”

And I was done.

Even as the door opened again and Tyra and the tall, lanky, dark-haired guy that was with Tabby at Wild Bill’s moved in, I started to make my way hurriedly toward the exit.

I was stopped when Logan moved quickly to the side and caught my elbow.

I twisted it out of his hold and scuttled away again, this time running into a table.

“Don’t you ever again put your hand on me,” I bit out.

“Mill—”

“You never again touch me!” I shrieked.

“Baby,” he said softly. “We gotta talk.”

My body snapped straight and my mouth moved.

“Yes, we do,” I bit out. “We absolutely do. While Tack deals with your little problem that’s leaking into my life,” I declared. Logan shot a quick glance at Tack, then back to me when I continued speaking, “I’ll talk.”

Then I kept right on going.

Right on going.

It was time.

Time to fucking end this.

He was going to get it all so I could do what he said he was going to do.

Once and for always.

Put him in my fucking, fucking rearview.

My love for him.

My longing for him.

My grief for all we’d lost.

My sorrow for all we’d never have.

The burden I’d borne as I’d walked through fire for him and he’d thrown it all away, knocking up some bitch and making all I’d sacrificed not... worth... shit.

“I’m as good as gone, High,” I stated. “I’m leaving Denver. But before I go, you get it. You get it all. So you’ll know and I can be done with you.”

“Millie, darlin’, fuck, please come with me to my—”