Walk Through Fire (Chaos #4)(85)

And looking at it, after what had happened the last two days, what they’d lost, he knew he couldn’t dick around.

So he lowered his voice when he went on.

“Also need for us to have a conversation, private. You and me, not the girls. Nothin’ bad. Just need to talk to you about something.”

There was barely a beat of pause before she stated, “You’re with someone.”

He felt his head jerk in surprise at her jumping right to that.

Then he asked, “You talk to an old lady?”

He heard her laugh. It wasn’t filled with humor. It wasn’t bitter either. Deb was and always had been no-nonsense. Almost emotionless. Definitely passionless. She didn’t get bitter.

She loved her girls. Like any good mother, like her mother taught her, she showered love and attention (and when it was needed, discipline) on her daughters.

Other than that, there was nothing there.

“A Chaos old lady phoning me to gossip?” she asked, then continued, “I don’t think so.”

He should have known.

She was not a fan of Chaos. Therefore, Chaos were not fans of Deb.

He turned his back to the window and rested his hips against the counter. “Well, I can confirm it’s that.”

“You’re a free agent, High,” she pointed out.

Yeah.

Passionless.

She was the same kind of lay. She got the job done. But there was nothing else to it.

She did her wifely duties. It wasn’t good, it wasn’t shit, it was never close to what he had with Millie back in the day and now, but he’d never stepped out on her. No one caught his eye to push him even to considering it.

But even if it had, he wouldn’t have done that to Deb. A man was any man at all, no matter what was going down at home, he didn’t f*ck over the mother of his children in any way, but especially not that way.

So he didn’t.

Another reason why they finished things. Not because she wanted to find something good. Not because she gave enough of a shit about him that she wanted him to find that for himself.

Because the longer she gave him nothing much, the more she figured she courted a betrayal that was not hers to claim—a betrayal of the heart—but as his wife it was hers to claim... legally.

“I know, Deb,” he replied to her free agent comment. “And we’ll talk more when I got you face to face.”

“You want to introduce her to the girls,” she surmised.

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“Okay,” she stated. “We’ll talk. But it’s not like I didn’t know this would happen and I trust you. You wouldn’t bring just any women into the girls’ lives. And anyway, I think this would be good for Cleo. She worries about you. It might even be good for Zadie. She needs to get her head wrapped around the end of us and if you’re moving on, that might happen.”

High wasn’t surprised at her reaction to him having a woman in his life. She wasn’t about jealousy. She wasn’t about anything but her daughters. It was like she knew from what her father taught her that she’d never have that kind of love in her life, so she convinced herself early she could live without it.

And she did a bang-up job.

He didn’t try. That was never what they were about. He was hung up on Millie and that was the way it was.

He’d never shared about Millie. Even as his wife, as f*cked up as it was, that wasn’t Deb’s to have, partly because she wouldn’t have wanted it.

But even if he had tried, he wouldn’t have gotten in there. She’d closed that part of her up so tight, he often wondered if it wasn’t her dad but instead was just her.

“Right, we’ll set something up,” he muttered.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“The girls up?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she told him, and he smiled.

They wouldn’t be. His girls liked their sleep. Since they shared a room, they also liked giggling into the night. Their sharing a room was something that he demanded, wanting them to have that together time to bond as sisters. It was also something he never told Deb he wanted because Millie had it with Dottie and remembered it fondly.

“I’ll call later and talk with ’em,” he said.

“That’s cool,” she replied. “Later, High.”

“Later, Deb.”

They disconnected and he put the phone down on the counter, reaching to the coffee grinder and hoping him using it couldn’t be heard through Millie’s bedroom door.

As far as he could tell, it couldn’t. He had the coffee brewing and was unearthing a waffle iron that looked like it’d never been used when his phone rang again.

He looked to the display and saw it was Tack.

He didn’t answer. If Millie wasn’t up soon, he’d be waking her up, feeding her, f*cking her, then talking to her about what was next up for them.

That was important.

Whatever Tack needed could wait.

Since Millie didn’t have Bisquick, something High couldn’t fathom of the old Millie but something that he could (and it set his teeth on edge) about the new, he looked up a recipe on his phone. And since she had the ingredients for homemade, he was mixing the waffle batter when he saw a flash of motion.

He lifted his head and caught Millie entering the living room teetering to a stop sideways, pajama bottoms on, still yanking down the top, her face a mix of sleep and panic.