Page 6

Chief

“Stubborn goddamn woman.” I reached out and smacked the button on the control panel and stepped back as the elevator doors closed. The attraction that had slammed into me the moment I spotted her in the diner was still prickling under my skin like a live wire.

It was hard to believe it’d been five fucking years since I’d seen her. She still got to me.

Ding.

The doors slid open on the ground floor and I stepped off, making a beeline for the exit. The rain was coming down much harder than it had been before.

“Fucking rain.” Ducking my head, I shoved open the glass door and took off in a jog towards my truck. When I slid inside, Cora’s sweet scent of peaches and cream wrapped around me.

Fuck.

Trying desperately to ignore the way the sassy bitch got to me, I cranked the engine and pulled away from the curb. I made it all of thirty seconds before thoughts of her bright blue eyes and long sexy legs popped back in my head.

I sighed. “I’m so fucked.”

The burner that I kept on me for club business started ringing and I said a thanks to the gods for the distraction.

I pressed the button on the steering wheel that connected the call to my truck’s Bluetooth connection. “Yeah?”

“Prez,” Morpheus’ voice filled the cab. “Doc says one of the girls is ready to talk. Says she knows something about who’s running the operation.”

My grip tightened on the steering wheel. “On my way. How are the others?”

“Three are already gone. Zero got them bus tickets home. I sent Lid and Havoc to follow behind just in case.”

“Good call.” Hopefully knowing they had an escort made them feel safer. “What about the others?”

“One’s sleeping it off upstairs. And the other…” Morph’s voice trailed off like he was thinking how exactly he was going to explain whatever it was that needed explaining.

“And the other…” I prompted him to get on with it.

There was another pause and then he sighed heavily. “Killer’s not letting anyone near her.”

My brows shot up.

Still?

He was acting funny at the Talons’ warehouse but I thought it was some kind of shock reaction to how we’d found the women. Even for outlaws like us, shit like that got to a man.

But it didn’t explain why my enforcer was still acting territorial. “Tell him I want to see her when I get back.”

Morph chuckled. “Already told him that. He told me to go fuck myself.”

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. If the situation wasn’t so fucked up, I’d laugh. Unfortunately, things were royally fucked up. “Fuck. I’ll be there in twenty,” I said before disconnecting the call.

* * *

I walked into the clubhouse and the main room was nearly empty. Cueball was behind the bar, and Zero was camped out in the corner with a couple of laptops open in front of him. He nodded in my direction when the door closed behind me but never lifted his head from his screens.

“Back this way,” Morpheus called out, appearing in the mouth of the hallway. His face was tight. “Doc’s in with her now.”

Pulling in another breath to steady myself for whatever fucked up shit I was about to learn, I followed behind him to the infirmary.

“Knock. Knock,” Morph said before pushing the door open. Seated on the edge of the examination table with a unicorn coffee cup was the blonde who’d first spoken to me at the Talons’ clubhouse.

Fucking Reign and his goofy-ass coffee cup collection.

“Hey, darlin’. How are you holding up?” I asked, keeping my tone gentle.

She looked a lot better. On the outside. She was cleaned up, wearing clothes most likely given to her by one of our club girls.

I glanced over at Doc who was sitting on the stool in front of her, his face grim.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders.

When I found Spike, and I would find him, I was going to kill him. Slowly.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Doc said carefully. “This is our Prez. Chief. He’s the one who got you out of there.”

Her eyes darted up to mine, then away again. “Thank you,” she whispered.

I eased onto a chair someone had brought into the room at some point, careful to leave plenty of space between us. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

She glanced at me quickly, then looked away again. “Olivia.”

“Olivia. That’s a pretty name. Doc says you might know something about who was running that operation.”

She nodded jerkily. “They... The bikers,” she clarified, “they called him the Russian. I never saw him, but the bikers, they answered to him. They were always scared when he called.”

I exchanged a look with Morph. Russians moving in on our territory? That was a whole new level of problems we didn’t need.

“Did you ever get a name?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. They only ever called him the Russian.”

“What about Spike? The guy who brought you in?” I asked.

She flinched at the fucker’s name. “He was the worst of them all. He... did things to all the girls.” A tear slid down her cheek.

My fists clenched.

“I’m sorry for what they did to you. But I promise, they’ll never hurt you again.” Spike and his crew weren’t men. They were the scum of the fucking earth.

She nodded, an acknowledgment she heard the words, but I knew they didn’t mean shit after what she’d been through. “We’re going to get you somewhere safe,” I promised.

“Is Memphis okay?” she asked suddenly.

I looked over at my VP, not having the first clue who Memphis was.

Morpheus shifted uncomfortably. “She’s with Killer.”

Ahh. The woman he was snapping and snarling at everyone over.

“The big guy? The one who carried her out?” She frowned as if remembering something unpleasant. “Good. He’s scary. He can protect her from them.”

Them? I looked over at Morph again and he shrugged.

If she was meaning Spike, he wouldn’t be alive long enough to hurt anyone else. “What’s your plan now?” I asked.

She bit her lip. “I have a sister in Oregon. If I could just get there...”

“Consider it done,” I promised. “We’ll put you on a plane tomorrow with enough cash to get you settled.”

Relief washed over her face. “Thank you. I don’t know how to repay?—”

I cut her off with a shake of my head. “You don’t owe us anything.”

After a few more questions, Doc led her back to one of the rooms the Cherries had set up upstairs.

Leaning back in my chair, I rubbed at my temples.

“Russians?” Morpheus questioned once we were alone. “Fucking hell.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. She may have just assumed it based on the nickname.” I didn’t really believe that, though. The pieces fit too well. “Where’s Killer? I need to talk to him.”

“Last I saw, he was holed up in his room with the girl. Wouldn’t let anyone in, like I said.”

I pushed to my feet. “Well, he’s letting me the fuck in.”

Morpheus chuckled. “Want backup?”

“For Killer? Nah,” I said, shaking my head.

Killer’s room was at the end of the hall, away from the main activity of the clubhouse. The big Samoan liked his privacy. I rapped my knuckles against the door, not bothering to be subtle.

“Fuck off,” came his immediate response.

“You better watch how you fucking talk to me, motherfucker. Now open the goddamn door.”

Silence.

Then the sound of his heavy footsteps and the door opened. Killer’s massive frame filled the doorway but behind him, I could see a glimpse of the petite brunette huddled on his bed. She was a pretty little thing.

“Sorry, Prez.” He didn’t look sorry, but I wouldn’t hold it against him for going out of his way to make his woman feel safe. His woman? I glanced between him and the girl wearing his clothes. Aw fuck.

“You can’t keep her, Killer.” I pointed behind him.

His jaw tightened.

I ran a hand over my face. Fuck me. “We need to talk.”

He grunted. “About what?”

“Really? You’re gonna play fucking dumb?” A sour look crossed his face.

I sighed. “About the girl, Killer. She might have information we need.”

He turned his head, looking over his shoulder. “Later.”

I studied him closely. Killer was loyal to the bone, but something dark was working in his eyes. He was a scary motherfucker on a normal day, but this... this possessiveness was something I hadn’t seen before.

“Fine,” I relented. “But first thing tomorrow, you and I need to have a conversation. Club comes first. Always.”

A muscle ticked in his square jaw. “I hear you.”

“You better.”

As the door closed in my face, I stood there for a moment, unsettled. Killer had always been dedicated to the club. If he was putting this girl above everything else, there was something big brewing.

Fuck. Another fire added to the inferno.

Heading back into the main room, I found Rage and Dread at the bar, deep in conversation. They straightened when they saw me approach.

“Prez,” Rage acknowledged. “How’d it go with Sparrow’s sister?”

I narrowed my eyes. “How the fuck do you know about that?”

He shrugged, unapologetically. “Sparrow called while you were gone. Wanted to know if you’d checked on her yet.”

Great.

Now I had to worry about Cora’s big brother keeping tabs on me. “She’s fine. Stubborn as a fucking mule, but fine.”

“Is she hot?” Dread asked with a glint in his eye that I didn’t like.

“She’s off limits,” I snapped. “Sparrow’s sister. Club rules.” The rules about not touching a member’s blood without said-member’s blessing was unspoken but understood. Five years ago, I’d broken that rule. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but Cora had captured my attention from the moment I clapped eyes on her.

“Call everyone in,” I told Rage. “Need to have a meeting with all the officers.”

He nodded and pulled out his phone.

“And find Shade,” I added. I needed to talk to him ASAP.

While Rage made the calls, I headed to my office. I’d just sat down when there was a knock at the door.

“You wanted to see me, mijo?” Pops asked from the doorway.

“Yeah.” I gestured to the worn leather chair across from my desk. “The girls we rescued tonight. One of them mentioned Russians.”

Shade’s brows shot up to his hairline. “Russians? Here in Jacksonville?”

I ran a hand through my hair as I blew out a breath. “I don’t fucking know.”

He was quiet for a moment, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against the armrest. “Could be the Bratva.”

“Bratva?” I scrubbed my hands across my face. None of this shit was making any sense. What the fuck was the Russian mafia doing with Spike? He was a fucking nobody. Although... “That would explain why Spike and his boys were so well armed.”

“If it is them, tread carefully, Mason.” My grandfather never used my government name. “The Bratva don’t play by the same rules we do. Their code... it ain’t like ours. They’re ruthless, and they take out anyone who gets in their way.”

“So do we,” I reminded him.

A faint smile crossed his lips. “Yes. You are your father’s son in that way. But you also have a moral code they don’t.”

My lips turned down at the same time Morpheus appeared in the doorway. “Everyone’s here.”

I nodded. “Ready, old man?”

“Old man,” he scoffed. “I’ll show you old man. Let’s go.”

The chapel was quiet when we entered, all my officers seated around the table like I’d requested. Morpheus took his place at my right, Rage at my left. Dread, Reign, and Zero filled in across from them. The only empty chair belonged to Killer, whose absence spoke volumes.

“Where’s Killer?”

“Still with the girl,” Dread answered. “Said to start without him.”

I clenched my jaw. “Jesus.” This shit couldn’t continue. I needed my enforcer to get his head in the fucking game.

“I’ll go get him,” Rage offered, already rising.

“No,” I sighed, waving him off. “Let him be for now. We can fill him in later.”

Bringing the gavel down, the room went silent. “We’ve got a problem,” I began. “The trafficking ring we’ve disrupted? It’s a whole lot fucking bigger than we thought. Olivia, one of the women we found, believes the Talons operation was actually run by the Russians.” I nodded at my grandfather seated at the other end of the table. “Shade thinks we might be dealing with the Bratva.”

Zero’s head snapped up. “Russian mafia? What are they doing in Jacksonville?”

“That’s what we need to find out,” I said. “I want you digging into everything. The Talons financials, property deeds, any Russian nationals who’ve moved into the area in the last few years. Anything that might be connected to this shit.”

The tech man nodded, his fingers already flying across the keyboard of his laptop.

“Morpheus, you and Rage handle getting the last of these women home. I want them out of here by tomorrow night.” Last thing any of us needed was the cops busting down our door and finding women who’d been reported missing. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake.

Morpheus shifted in his chair. “That might be a problem, Prez.”

I quirked a brow.

“Not sure Killer’s going to let the little sprite that’s latched onto him out of his sight,” he explained.

Fuck me. “I already told him that he can’t keep her like a goddamn pet.”

Morph rubbed at the back of his neck, looking real uncomfortable. Nobody liked pissing off our enforcer. He had a tendency to slide off his rocker when he was pissed off. An unhinged Killer was on my list of things to avoid. Granted, it made him fan-fucking-tastic at his job.

Morph shrugged. “I don’t think it’s like that. Pretty sure she’s the one that isn’t letting go.”

“Jesus, fuck. Fine. Let that be Killer’s problem to deal with, then.”

“Thank fuck,” Morph muttered under his breath earning a few chuckles from the men seated around the table, myself included.

“Anyone have anything else they want to add?” When nobody spoke up, I brought the gavel down, ending the meeting. “May the gods protect us all.”

“Saints forever!”

As they filed out, Morpheus hung back. “So... How’d it go with Sparrow’s sister? Handling it personally isn’t like you.”

I gave him a look that would have stopped most men in their tracks. My VP, however, wasn’t most men and shot me a smirk instead.

Jesus. More bullshit I didn’t want to deal with. “Yes, Morph. Sparrow asked me to check up on his little sister and I did. Something you want to say about that?”

He held up his hands. “Nope. Not my business.” I rolled my eyes. Lord knew that never stopped him before.

“Good.”

A knowing grin played at the corner of his mouth. Seriously?

Before I could tell him to fuck off somewhere, my phone was ringing again.

When I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced down at the screen, I recognized the Florida area code but not the number. Who the fuck? Sliding my finger across the screen, I lifted the phone to my ear. “Yeah?”

“Chief?” I didn’t recognize the gruff voice that came through the line.

“Uh, yeah. Who’s this?”

“It’s Tacoma. Got a minute?”

Tacoma was the president of the Kings of Anarchy and our newest business partners. I’d only spoken with him twice since the deal with the Saints, the Kings, and Hector went through.

“Yeah, brother. What’s up?”

“Heard you had some excitement up there,” he said without preamble. “Found some gems when cleaning house.” He was speaking in code.

I nodded at Morpheus to shut the door and once he did I put the call on speaker. “News travels fast.”

“Especially when it involves the Russians.”

Morph’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he mimed the words, “ How does he already know about that?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “What Russians?” I played dumb.

Tacoma snorted. “Don’t bullshit me, Chief. Word’s already reached my contacts that the club that runs shit in Jacksonville hit a Bratva operation. Didn’t take a genius to connect the dots to the Saints.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. If Tacoma knew, others did too. “What do you know?”

“I know that you stirred up a hornet’s nest. The Bratva don't like losing their investments, and those girls were worth a lot of money to them.”

“You knew they were trafficking women in my town?” I asked, my voice dropping dangerously low.

“Fuck no,” he spat. “I’m just telling you what I heard. Word is, they’re sending someone to assess the damage. I’m just giving you a fucking heads up.” I could hear the hostility in his voice. Fair enough. I’d just accused him of some shady shit.

“Fucking-A,” I groaned. “My bad, brother. Shitty thing to insinuate. I appreciate the heads up.”

“Better watch your fucking six. The Bratva don’t fuck around with their money.” That was something I already knew.

Without another word the line went dead.

“Think you pissed him off,” Morph said unhelpfully.

“Yeah, well, he ain’t the first today.” I sat there, staring at my phone. This shit was escalating fast.

The Bratva. In Jacksonville. This was a shitstorm I hadn’t anticipated, and now it was barreling straight toward us.

Morph opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut when his phone started vibrating across my desk. Now what?

He picked it up and looked at the screen. “It’s Reign. I’ll call him back later.”

I waved him off. I needed a cigarette before we got into things. “Answer it.”

Morph put the call on speaker. “What’s going on, brother?”

Reign’s voice crackled through, sirens wailing in the background. “Veep, we’ve got a problem. Heaven’s Door is on fire.”

My head shot up. What the fuck? Heaven’s Door Gentlemans club was a vital part of our business. It was the quickest way to clean duffle bags of cash that we couldn’t exactly take to the bank and deposit. By funneling it through the club, we were able to batch some of it onto our books and the rest went back to Hector. We had a system.

I scrubbed my hands over my head. “How bad is the damage?”

“Fire department’s still making sure there’s no hot spots,” Reign started. “But it appears to be mostly contained to the back rooms.”

“Fuck.” I groaned.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “There’s smoke and water damage throughout. Probably going to have to shut down for at least a week, maybe more, to make repairs so everything is back up to code.”

“Any idea how it started?” Morph asked, exchanging a glance with me. I had my suspicions already. The timing was way too fucking convenient.

“Not yet. Fire marshal’s still poking around, but one of his guys said it looks suspicious. Off the record, of course.”

I cursed again under my breath. “At least tell me nobody got hurt.”

“Couple of the girls have minor smoke inhalation, but everyone’s okay,” Reign assured us.

“Keep an eye on things and let me know as soon as you hear anything else.”

“Will do.”

Morph disconnected the call. “First the Bratva and now this. You think it’s connected?”

I grabbed my pack of smokes off my desk and lit one up. “Not a doubt in my mind.”

As if on cue, my phone started ringing. “Yeah?” I answered.

The creepiest laugh came through the line and I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it for a second before putting it back. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Did you enjoy the fire, Chief?” I went perfectly still.

This motherfucker. I knew his ass had something to do with it, but I hadn’t expected him to have the balls to call and admit it. He was a goddamn dead man.

Morph tilted his head to the side, confusion in his eyes.

Staring at my VP, I pulled my phone away from my face and put it on speaker. “Spike.”

Morpheus’s brows shot up to his hairline.

“Miss me?” he taunted.

“Oh definitely. We should catch up. How about you come on over and we’ll do that.”

“Not on your life, Puta.”

“I got your pussy,” I growled.

“A couple of them, actually,” he shot back, not hiding the venom in his tone.

Guess he was still pissed we busted up his trafficking ring.

“Speaking of pussies,” I said, doing my best to piss him off. “A man isn’t any kind of man if he has to rape a woman. Kinda pathetic actually.”

Morph’s face went hard at the mention of what the women had suffered at the hands of Spike and his men. I got it. I didn’t like saying the words out loud. But we had to try something. Maybe if this asshole was good and pissed the fuck off, he’d slip up and tip his hand.

“Fuck you!” Spike snarled. “This is just the beginning. I’m going to destroy everything you care about.”

When the line went dead, it took all I had not to hurl my phone across the room. “Fuck!”

“When I find him,” Morph started, his voice hollow.

My head shot up. Morph had that look in his eyes. The one he got when he was about to go hunting. “I’m going to flay the skin from his body.”

Morpheus was the most skilled tracker, this side of the Mississippi. He’d stepped away from the job years ago, but I guess for Spike he was making an exception. “Do your thing, brother.”

Without another word, Morph stood, turned on his booted feet and walked right out of my office.

Spike’s days were officially numbered.