Walk Through Fire (Chaos #4)(95)

He ignored it and carried on.

When he broke the kiss, he did it only to drag me out of bed and into the shower.

It was a good shower.

Excellent.

We used to do that a lot together and I’d missed that too.

I felt the pain.

Then I set it aside to focus on something else. A number of something elses. All of them having to do with Logan, me, warm water, and slithery soap.

And that worked.

Magnificently.

High

His phone beeped with a voice mail after it quit ringing and High looked from it to Millie.

She was sitting cross-legged beside him on the couch. Her bottom half was under a fluffy afghan even though the house was warm, the fire was going, and one of her legs was resting on his thigh that was stretched out seeing as his feet were on her coffee table (something that bought him a look, which got her a grin).

She was staring at the TV, cheeks wet, sniffling.

When what went down went down on the TV screen and seeing her reaction, High’d been worried. This was because the bitch on the television had bit it after having a baby and when that happened, Millie had mildly lost it.

He was concerned this was about why the woman bit it, dying after childbirth.

Then he realized Millie’s blubbering wasn’t about the woman losing her life after pushing out a kid. It was just that she was wound up in the show.

So he relaxed.

As the episode went on, she kept blubbering.

Since she was into it, he reached out and grabbed his phone.

He saw the call was from Tack, as was the voice mail.

This was Tack’s fifth call that day.

None of them High had returned.

He’d spoken to his girls that afternoon and he did it with Millie around. He didn’t lie when he said she was fragile. She’d suffered more than he’d thought she’d suffered. She was happy to have him back but she was piss-poor at hiding the fact that she was also terrified of it.

He got that.

He just had to go gentle.

At the same time she had to find it in her to suck it up.

When he talked to his girls, he noted she found that in her. The conversation wasn’t long, it happened while they were putting together a late lunch, and all he got from Millie were some sweet smiles, and after he disconnected, a hug and a murmured, “You’re cute with them.”

He wasn’t cute with them.

He was a father with two daughters.

That was it.

Millie thought it was cute, though, and he’d roll with that.

While talking to them, he made plans to take them to dinner the next night. He’d also talked to Millie about it. She wouldn’t be there and she’d agreed that was the way to go. He wasn’t going to spring her on his girls. Not like that.

He also wasn’t going to delay. Cleo and Zadie would learn about Millie the next night and they’d meet her soon after.

They were going to have to suck it up, too, or at least Zadie was.

There was not much that was shit about being a dad.

But the part where you had to teach your kids that life could throw curveballs and you had to dig deep to find it in you to adjust was a part of that shit.

There was no getting around it.

And his baby girl was about to face a curveball, so it was his job to guide her to learn how to adjust, take the strike but keep her head up, or better, face it and hit it out of the park.

After lunch, life intruded and High experienced more contradictory emotions, hating the f*ck out of it at the same time feeling it was good they were facing it.

This being him leaving to hit a store so they had more food (or, Millie actually was stocked up since her cupboards were seriously lacking) and Millie telling him she had to hit her desk to get some shit sorted. She also had to unpack.

She had a business and she’d been away. He’d had to let that slide.

So he went to the store, bought everything they could need or want, came back, lugged the shit in, and put it away. She did some time at her desk. Then he did some time hanging in the bathroom with her while she unpacked and started laundry.

After that, they settled in for TV, took a break to make dinner, ate it in front of the TV, and then catastrophe struck her program that he was watching because that’s what she wanted but the thing did nothing for him. It was a bunch of uppity folks (even the servants were uppity) wearing old clothes and talking in British accents.

Even when the pretty brunette bought it, it still did nothing for him.

So he went to his voicemail and listened to Tack.

“I get that you’re needin’ to focus, brother,” Tack said in his ear, “but as you know, we got shit to discuss. You’re out of it for now, but that don’t mean we don’t need to go over it with you. So we got a meet at the Compound tomorrow mornin’ at nine. Need your ass there, High. Hate to drag you away from what’s goin’ down, ’specially if you’re sortin’ things with Millie, but you know it’s gotta be done. Especially for Millie. See you there.”

High hit the button to turn off his phone, not knowing what the f*ck Tack was talking about.

Especially for Millie.

What did that shit mean?

He looked to Millie.

“Babe,” he called.

She waved a hand at him, not tearing her eyes from the screen.

“Shh!” she hissed, sniffled, then wailed, “Oh, Tom!”