Chaos series by Kristen Ashley

“You’re such a freak. Babe, you have no appointments today. You’re sitting in a little house behind your big house. Who cares if your makeup is messed up?”

“I do,” I retorted.

“Such a freak,” she muttered.

“This is better,” I declared. “You being annoying. A lot better.”

“I give good annoying too.”

“Go… take care of the Hubbles,” I ordered. “But keep track of the time. I’ll find time to run numbers today and I’ll call you tonight with a proper offer. Is that okay?”

“Perfect. Later, babe. And, Millie?”

“Yeah?”

“Pleased as punch for you, sister.”

I drew in another breath.

She hung up.

I was grinning again when I put the phone back in its cradle.

I checked calling Justine off my to-do list, hit the next up, and was working on the one after that when I heard the growl of a truck in my drive.

I looked up, out the windows, and saw Logan’s truck.

I smiled.

He turned into the courtyard and I saw my SUV trailing him.

My smile got bigger.

I had my car back and Logan sorted that for me.

My smile started fading when the growl of the first two vehicles was joined by the roar of a number of bikes.

I stopped looking out my window in order to stare out of it when I saw Tack, Hop, Tabby’s dark-headed guy who’d come in with Tyra the day of my scene at Chaos, and Boz, all on bikes, with Big Petey bringing up the rear on his Harley trike.

“What on earth?” I breathed as my door flew open.

Logan was storming in, storming in, face full of thunder, eyes to me.

My back snapped straight and I vaguely noticed another young Chaos member with dark hair coming in behind him but the majority of my attention was focused on Logan.

“Follow me,” he grunted.

“I…” My eyes darted to the other man as I heard the roar of Harleys die in my courtyard.

“Follow me!” Logan barked.

I jumped in my seat and my eyes shot back to him.

When they did, I caught only his back since he was prowling out of my office, apparently feeling he could storm in to my place of business, bark at me, order me around, and I’d comply.

“High.” I heard it said outside, that one word meant to be both calming and cautionary, the voice saying it was Tack.

“You need to stay the fuck outta this,” Logan growled as I sat still in my chair and stared out the door. As I did, I saw Logan turn and clip, “Millie. Here.”

He didn’t wait for my response to him calling me like I was a dog.

He stalked away.

Something was happening. I didn’t know what it was. I did know it was something big.

And I didn’t give a fuck.

No man stormed into my office, barked orders at me, then called me to him like I was his pet, a naughty one, and stalked away expecting me to obey his commands without question.

No man.

Hell, no woman.

No way.

No how.

The problem with that was I had Chaos brothers congregating outside my office door, the young one that followed Logan still inside, and I couldn’t share that shit did not happen, no way, no how while sitting in my chair while Logan was somewhere else.

So I got up quickly, my chair flying back, and I did my own fucking storming.

I did that passing the young guy, marching through the bevy of brothers hanging outside the door, and I caught sight of Logan at the back door to my house.

I headed right there.

He opened the door and went in.

I hurried my step and followed him in.

He was about to close the door when a hand landed on it and we were both forced back so Chaos could file in.

And they did.

All seven of them.

I didn’t have a mind to them.

I had a mind to Logan.

My voice was low and trembling with fury when I declared, “You did not just call me to you like I was a dog.”

He slammed the door, lifted a hand, one finger stabbing in the direction of the wall behind the door.

I looked that way and blinked at a security system box lit up there that wasn’t there before I left for Paris, and due to all the things that had gone down, I had not noticed when I got back.

“You leave, you arm this,” Logan snarled. “Four, nine, one, three, red button.” He jabbed at the red button under the keypad. “You come home, you shut the fuckin’ door, lock the fucker, and unarm it, four, nine, one, three, then you fuckin’ rearm it, immediately, four… nine… one… three.”

“How’d that get there?” I whispered.

Logan didn’t answer me.

He leaned into me, nabbed my hand, his fingers tight around mine, and started stalking again, through his brothers standing around my kitchen, dragging me with him.

“High,” Tack bit out impatiently.

Logan didn’t hesitate an instant.

He dragged me to the front door, yanked us to a halt, and thrust a finger at another security panel at the side of the door.

Eyes to me, he stated, “Same thing. Four, nine, one, three. You leave, you arm it. You’re home, it’s armed. No motion sensors in the house. It’s all about the windows and doors. They’re breached, a sound goes off raising all holy hell but also a message is sent straight to security dispatch. They contact the police and send a man out immediately. A man will show at the door to ask if everything is fine. You have a code phrase to tell him it’s not. You say, ‘Everything is fine, sir.’ If everything is fine, you find different words. If it’s not, he’ll know and deal. This sinkin’ in?”