You wanna go to Paris, I’ll find a way.

She went to Paris.

He knew from what Shirleen and Brody found that Millie had never left the country but she did have a passport.

And she was using it to go to Paris.

Without him.

Leave me to my nothing!

High had a choice.

Lead with his heart and get an emergency passport, get Brody on finding her, and get his ass to France so he could find out what in the fuck was going on.

Or lead with his gut, knowing a woman could not change her entire life from Paris. She had a business. She had a home.

She’d be back.

And when she was back, she’d be calmer. She’d have taken the time to get herself together.

And he’d know when she was back because he’d have Brody on that too.

Then he’d talk to her right there in that fucked-up, immaculate house and then he’d finally find out what in the fuck was going on.

He wanted to lead with his heart. All he could see was her face at The Roll. All he could hear were her words clawing at his soul.

But he’d gone with his heart with Millie before. He’d sustained the blows she was delivering, not paying a lick of attention, walking away in an effort to end the pain.

If he’d gone with his gut back then, he’d have paid attention. He’d have seen. He’d have heard.

He wouldn’t have left her behind.

He would have known all she spewed was shit and he would have gone back.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Gut,” he decided.

It cost him but High went with that decision.

But before he did, he went to get his truck, drove to Ride, got some plywood, and went back to Millie’s to board up her door.

Tyra

I followed Tack into our bedroom.

He turned on the light, moved to the bed, sat on it, and bent to his boots.

I closed the door behind me and stood leaning against it.

The drive up the mountain was silent and uncomfortable.

My man was mad.

“Kane—” I started.

He lifted his head to look at me and I shut my mouth.

“I told you,” he rumbled.

“You don’t understand, honey,” I said softly.

“No,” he bit, standing. “You don’t understand, Tyra.” He planted his hands on his hips. “Fuck, woman, can you honest to God stand there and fight your corner after witnessing how your fucked-up shit played out tonight?”

“There can’t be that much feeling unless there’s that much feeling, Kane,” I pointed out.

“Tell me, Red, when we were gettin’ together, you gutted me and I walked away from you, made it clear I wanted nothin’ more to do with you even if you sorted your head out. Some bitch you didn’t fuckin’ know got up in your business, shovin’ you at me only for you to take the hit of gettin’ shot down again and again and again, the brothers at my back delivering the same kind of blows. You’d want that?”

“If I got you back, yes,” I whispered. “I’d take any hit over and over and over again until I got you back.”

He stared at me.

I held his stare and let the silence stretch.

Then I ended it.

“Tell me you saw her tonight,” I said.

He looked away, tearing his hand through his hair.

He saw.

“She’s in pain.” I told him something he now knew.

He looked back at me. “None of our business.”

“Honey—”

His next came as a warning whisper.

“None of our business, Red.” He drew in breath and kept his eyes locked to mine. “You know it. You know how it is. Those boys, my brothers, your brothers, they fuckin’ love you, babe. Totally fuckin’ love you. But you know men like us. You fuckin’ know down to your soul men like us. You know this shit is not on. Your purpose is compassionate. But men like us, your methods are unacceptable.” He kept hold of my eyes and dropped his voice to gentle. “And you know it, baby. So you know this is none of our business.”

“She might do something—” I started.

He cut me off. “I’ll keep an eye.”

I nodded. I’d take that because I had to but also because I knew he would.

“You done now?” he asked.

I shook my head and saw his jaw grow hard.

But I told him, “I don’t like it. But I think I have to be.”

His face relaxed and his order was quiet and coaxing. “Get ready for bed, darlin’.”

I nodded again and went about doing that.

I joined my man in bed.

I didn’t sleep.

My husband felt it.

“You need to relax,” he said.

“Do you think that High’s going to—?”

“I think it’s none of our business.”

I lifted my head. “Tack—”

“Babe. No.” Two words, firm. And he went on just like that. “You are who you are and I’m with you because a’ that. I am who I am and you’re with me because a’ that. What we got, it works. Phenomenally. We do what we do, we are what we are and we get off on it, no holding back. But this is us. That’s the Club. That’s a brother. The same does not hold true with the brothers. You got your place in the Club. I got mine. We know our places, Red, and we don’t deviate. So until a brother makes somethin’ our business, it’s none of our business, yeah?”

“I’m worried,” I shared.

There was a vein of amusement in his gravelly voice when he muttered, “No shit?”

“Tack.” It was a lame snap.

He pulled me deeper into his arms and held me close.

“High and me have not seen eye to eye on numerous occasions over the years but that don’t mean he isn’t Chaos. He’s Chaos, down to the bone. He’s a brother of my soul. So what do you think he’s gonna do?”

There it was.

Exactly what I needed.

“Take care of Millie,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Tack whispered back, starting to stroke my hair. “Now, you gonna relax and go to sleep?”

“I’ll try.”

He sighed.

Then he rolled into me.

Once there, he muttered, “Know a way to make you relax.”

He knew about seven thousand of them.

Before I could say a word, he dipped his head to me, took my mouth, and set about making me relax.

High

THE NEXT DAY, High was back at Millie’s to be there when the men he called replaced the glass with another thick, bevel-edged sheet.

Due to the fact that he swiped an extra key, he was also there three days later when the men he called installed the alarm system, which meant all the glass, windows, and doors throughout her house were wired for break-ins.

And he took the call when Brody told him what hotel she was staying at in Paris. He also took more calls when she used a card so Brody could tell him where she had breakfast, lunch, dinner, got money, what tours she went on, where she shopped and what she bought.

Last, Brody told High when she’d be back.

Two weeks.

He had to depend on his gut for two weeks.

He applied for an emergency passport anyway.

Just in case.

Millie

Twenty-one years ago...

“Brother’s bummed,” Dog stated.

I looked from the recruit behind the bar at the Chaos compound—a recruit who was no longer a recruit and that was why we were all partying since he and his new brother Brick had been fully initiated into the fold the day before—to the couch where Dog’s eyes were aimed.

Boz was slouched there, deep in the seat, legs splayed wide, eyes aimed across the room.

Dog was right.

Boz looked bummed.

Someone had to do something about that and I decided that someone would be me.

I turned back to Dog and grinned. “This is a party, so that can’t happen.”

He looked to me and winked. “Go get ’im, girl.”

I slid off my barstool, grabbed my beer, and said, “Tequila. Stat.”

Dog turned, nabbed a bottle of tequila from the back of the bar, and handed it to me.

I lifted it. “Perfect medicine.”

At that, he smiled and muttered, “No doubt.”