Page 12

Chief

I rummaged through the stainless-steel refrigerator, spotting the bacon and eggs tucked away on the bottom shelf. My stomach growled at the thought of fluffy scrambled eggs covered in shredded cheddar cheese.

After getting up at the crack of dawn for Cora’s surf class, kicking in Gerald’s door and fucking him up before stopping back by Cora’s place to get her truck, and then finally making it back to my house; I was fucking starving.

“Is it okay if I take a shower?” Beckett’s voice was hesitant behind me, like he was worried about overstepping.

I stepped back from the fridge and turned to face the kid. His bruised eye was getting darker and it made me want to pay another visit to his foster dad. My luck, I’d end up behind bars. Pretty sure ol’ Gerald wouldn’t take me putting a whoopin’ on him again, as quietly as he had the first time.

Cora cleared her throat, and when I looked over, her eyes were big and she was jerking her head towards the boy.

Right. He was asking about a shower. “This is your home now, kid. Make yourself comfortable.”

He nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he disappeared down the hallway.

I sucked in a deep calming breath through my nose. I’d seen some shit in my time; done some shit I wasn’t proud of. But there was something about an adult raising their hand to a kid that made me homicidal.

Stealing my jaw, I turned back to the fridge and grabbed the eggs and bacon, then moved to the stove. I was just starting to arrange the bacon strips in the cast iron skillet when slender arms slid around my waist from behind and a warm body pressed against my back. Cora’s peaches and cream scent wrapped around me, soothing some of the rage that had been brewing.

“You’re something else, Mason Sosa,” she murmured against my shoulder blade.

I lifted my arm, and she slipped around in front of me, those ocean blue eyes gazing up at mine. Christ, she was beautiful.

“Glad you think so, baby. But I was just doing what any man worth his salt would do,” I said, dropping a kiss on her perfect lips.

Her smile told me she thought differently, but she didn’t argue. I nodded toward the hallway that led to the opposite side of the house from where Beckett’s room was. “You can shower in my bathroom if you want.”

Her eyes lit up. “That actually sounds amazing.”

She pecked a kiss on my lips and turned and walked away. My eyes stayed glued to the sway of her hips and the memories of last night started playing on a reel in my mind.

Fuck, I wanted her again already. I glanced down at the bacon that was already starting to sizzle, thinking maybe breakfast could wait. Then reality came rushing in.

With a kid in the house, fucking my woman when and where I wanted was officially off the table. At least for now.

“Cockblocking kids,” I grumbled as I dug in my pocket for my phone. I needed to call the clubhouse and check in. It wasn’t like me to go radio silent this long and someone would start to worry. Opening my contacts, I hit call on Rage’s name.

“What’s up, Prez?”

“Just checking in after that shit last night at HD.”

“All is quiet here.” I could hear rustling through the line and then the squeaky sound of the clubhouse door opening and closing. “Doc said you’ve got a situation with a kid?”

I glanced toward the hallway where I could still hear the shower running. “Yeah. One of Cora’s kids. Foster father’s been using him as a punching bag. Pulled him out of there this morning.”

Rage went quiet for a moment. “Sparrow’s sister?”

Fuck. Me and my big fucking mouth. “Yeah. You got something you wanna say about it?”

“Nope. Not a thing.”

Smart fucking man. I knew I’d have to fill Sparrow in on how things were between me and his sister soon, and hope he didn’t lose his shit about it.

Not that it mattered if he did. Cora belonged to me now.

And like everyone else, he was going to have to get the fuck over it.

“The kid need anything?” Rage asked, pulling me back to the here and now.

“Nah. He’s good for now,” I said, flipping the bacon. “Any updates about Spike or his crew?”

“Nothing new, brother.”

“Yeah—” I blew out a breath. We needed to find him. “If you hear anything, hit me on my cell.”

“Will do.”

After hanging up, I dialed Morpheus to check in with him. “What?” he snapped when he finally answered.

“Progress report,” I demanded, wedging the phone between my ear and shoulder as I cracked eggs into a bowl.

“I’m close,” was all he said. “Real close.”

Before I could ask for details, the line went dead.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it for a second before shoving it back in my pocket. Morpheus was usually a chatty mother fucker, but Morph in hunting mode was a different animal entirely. But if he said he was close that meant we’d have that fucker in a cell at the warehouse soon.

Feeling eyes on me, I looked up.

Beckett was standing in the kitchen doorway, his hair damp from the shower, wearing clean clothes that didn’t quite fit him.

“Feel better?” I asked, turning back to whisk the eggs.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Two words. That was it. I couldn’t exactly blame him, though. If his foster dad was anything to go on, he hadn’t had any decent men in his life.

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” he admitted, moving further into the kitchen.

I poured the eggs into another skillet, watching them start to cook as a thought occurred to me. “It’s Friday. Shouldn’t you be in school?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw his face fall a little. “That’s where I was headed when Gerald started his shit. I missed the bus, so I was gonna walk, but he got pissed because I was ‘making noise.’” He used his fingers, making air quotes.

I nodded, trying to figure out how to ask my next question. Fuck. There was no delicate way to ask it. “Listen, kid. I gotta ask...” I cleared my throat, feeling awkward as hell. “Gerald ever do anything else to you? Hurt you in any other way?”

Beckett’s eyes widened, instantly understanding what I was asking. “No! Nothing like that. He was just a mean drunk who liked to pick on anyone smaller than him.”

Relief washed through me. “Thank fuck.”

I turned my attention back to the eggs, adding a handful of shredded cheese and stirring just as Cora reappeared. My chest tightened at the sight of her in one of my shirts that came down past her knees and hair wet and combed back.

“Something smells amazing,” she said, sliding onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

Beckett took the stool beside her, still looking like he expected me to change my mind and tell him to get the fuck out. But slowly, as Cora started rambling about tricks she wanted them to work on Monday, the kid started to relax.

Once everything was cooked, I plated up the food and slid it across to them, grabbing a piece of bacon for myself.

“This is really good,” Beckett said around a mouthful of eggs. Judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t expected me to be able to throw down in the kitchen.

I smirked. “Don’t sound so shocked. I can do more than crack skulls.”

“He’s full of surprises.” Cora laughed, but there was a soft look in her eyes.

As we finished eating, I checked the time on my phone. It was still early. “When you’re done, I’ll have a prospect drop you at school.”

Beckett lifted his head from his plate, an unsure look on his face. “You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, what if Gerald shows up?”

“Gerald won’t be a problem.” I’d already asked Zero to scrub Beckett from the system. If anyone went looking, there would be no traces that the kid had ever been a ward of the state. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll have a prospect stay close by. What time does school get out?”

Beckett’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Three-fifteen,” he answered.

I nodded, already texting Cueball to get his ass to my house. “My guy will be there waiting when you’re done and he’ll bring you straight back here.”

“Uh, thanks,” he said carefully.

Ten minutes later, Cueball was at the door, waiting for his marching orders. “Boss,” he nodded, eyes curious as they landed on Beckett.

“Cue, this is Beckett. He’s staying with me for a while. You’re going to be taking him to school and picking him up at three-fifteen sharp until I can get him some wheels. No detours, no stops, straight back here. Got it?”

Cueball nodded. “Got it.”

I moved to the kitchen drawer and fished out a spare key. “In case you beat us back here.”

The kid eyed the key in his hand for a long moment and I started to think something was wrong.

“You good?” I lifted a brow.

He lifted his head, meeting my stare. “Yeah. I’m good,” he held up the key, then added, “thanks.”

“Nothing to thank me for, kid. Now get gone. You got shit to learn.” His lips twitched, the tension obliterated.

Once Cue and the kid were gone, I turned to Cora. She was leaning against the counter, watching me with her lips curved into a smile that was doing dangerous things to my insides.

I stalked over, caging her between my arms as I gripped the counter on either side of her. “Alone at last,” I murmured, lowering my head to the curve of her neck.

Her hands slid up my chest as she tilted her head to give me better access. “That was a really sweet thing you did,” she said, her breath hitching as I nipped at her earlobe.

“Which part?” I asked, my hands moving to her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin through the material of my shirt that she was wearing.

“All of it.”

“Mmm,” I hummed against her mouth before catching her lips with mine. I was done talking about the kid anymore.

She melted against me, her mouth opening as I swept my tongue across the seam. My hands slid down to cup her ass and I squeezed before hoisting her up on the counter. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me closer as I slid my tongue across hers.

“No,” I groaned against her mouth, when my phone started ringing.

“Just ignore it,” Cora panted against my lips.

I hummed, taking her mouth again.

When it started ringing again, I knew it had to be something important.

“Sorry, baby,” I muttered, pulling the device from my pocket. Dread’s number flashed on the screen. “What?”

“Sorry to bother you, Prez, but we’ve got a situation at Saints Ink.” His voice was tight. “Someone broke in. The place is trashed.”

“Spike.” My jaw clenched.

“That would be my guess. Rage is here with me now. You might want to get down here.”

“Fuck.” I glanced down into my woman’s hooded eyes. Looks like taking my woman back to bed wasn’t happening any time soon. “I’m on my way.” I ended the call.

Cora slid off the counter, her expression concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve gotta go,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “Club shit. I need you to stay here until I get back.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “I can’t. I need to go check on my aunt.”

“Babe. Can’t it wait?”

“Mason,” she said, her tone making it clear she wasn’t taking no for an answer. “She’s expecting me. If I don’t show, she’ll worry.”

I mentally ran through my options. Most of my guys had jobs. Those who didn’t were handling the clean-up from the fire at Heaven’s Door. There was one person I could call, though.

“My grandfather,” I said, already dialing. “He’ll take you.”

Cora opened her mouth to protest, but I held up a hand. “It’s not safe right now, Cora. There’s shit going down that I can’t fully explain, but I need you to trust me on this. Please.”

Something in my voice must have convinced her because she nodded reluctantly.

Shade answered on the second ring. “Everything alright, mijo?”

“Yeah, but I need a favor,” I said, cutting to the chase. “Can you come by the house and pick up my woman? She wants to visit her aunt?”

“Who?” I could hear the confusion in his tone. Shit. I hadn’t told anyone about Cora and me yet.

Looking up and locking eyes with Cora, I said, “Cora Allen. She’s mine.”

A slow smile covered her face and I felt ten feet tall for putting it there.

“Yours.” He wasn’t asking, but I knew he’d have questions about how the fuck I’d suddenly found a woman. “Yeah, mijo. I’ll be there in twenty.”

I hung up and turned to Cora. “He’s on his way. Don’t leave my grandfather’s side, understand? It’s important.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Nothing you’re saying is making me feel better about what’s going on.”

“I know,” I admitted. “And I promise I’ll explain everything soon. But right now, I need to handle this shit at Saints Ink, and I need to know that you’re safe.”

Her expression softened slightly. “Fine, I’ll stick to your grandfather like glue.”

“Thank you.” I pulled her close for a kiss.

Twenty minutes later, my grandfather was pulling up in his black Cadillac. “Jesus.” I laughed.

It’d been a hot minute since I’d seen the thing. I guess I should be glad she was getting chauffeured around in the fucking tank.

I watched as he slid out and jogged up the steps. I opened the door before he could knock and clapped him on the shoulder as he entered. “Appreciate this, old man.”

He waved off my thanks, his attention already on Cora who was gathering her purse. “So this is her,” he said, a sly smile crossing his weathered face.

“This is her.” I shot him a warning, which he completely ignored as he stepped around me.

“I’m Javier,” he said, extending his hand to Cora. “But everyone calls me Shade.”

“Cora,” she replied, offering her hand which he brought up to his lips. Good Lord. He was laying it on thick.

“Thank you for doing this,” Cora said sweetly.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, senorita.” His twinkling eyes darted over to me before focusing back on her. “It’s not often I get to escort a beautiful woman around town; it makes an old man feel young again.”

I rolled my eyes while Cora laughed, already falling for his charm. My grandfather had that effect on women of all ages.

“Keep her safe,” I said, eyes locked on my girl. “She’s important to me.”

Shade’s playful expression thankfully disappeared. “With my life, nieto.”

“Nieto?” Cora asked as I let her go.

“Grandson,” I explained, walking behind them out the door and locking it behind us. With one more kiss on Cora’s pouty pink lips, we went our separate ways.

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up at Saints Ink and found Rage and Dread standing in the middle of the wreckage. “Motherfucker,” I growled, stepping carefully over the glass.

Rage’s face was thunderous. “If you thought he was a dead man before, brother...”

I surveyed the damage, noting that while the place was a mess, nothing appeared to be missing. This wasn’t a robbery. It was Spike’s way of saying he could hit us where it hurt.

“How’d he even get in?” I asked. “Thought we had an alarm system.”

Dread pointed to a small panel near the door. “Cut the lines first.”

“Or he had help.” Since finding out he had tie to the fucking Russian Bratva, I wasn’t putting anything past him. Methhead or not, he was causing fucking problems. I really couldn’t wait to put him down once and for all.

“Any word from Morph?” Dread asked, looking from Rage to me.

Rage shook his head. “Radio silence. But you know how he gets when he’s on the hunt.”

“I talked to him earlier. All he said was that he was close.” Morpheus in hunter mode was a force of nature.

“We need to step up security at all our businesses,” I said, picking up a signed photo of Rage with Max King and Nathan Crow. They were some famous tattoo artists down in Miami that Rage knew. “I want it at the clubhouse and warehouses, too. If he’s targeting our legitimate fronts, he might go after our other interests too.”

“Already on it,” Dread confirmed. “Zero’s reviewing security footage from the surrounding buildings to see if we can track where he went after this.”

I was already calculating our next moves. We needed to find Spike before he escalated further. With the Russians potentially involved, the situation was becoming more complicated.

My phone vibrating in my pocket broke through my thoughts. I pulled it out and my brows snapped together. Cora was calling.

“Hey, baby. Is something wrong?”