Page 25 of Chief's Addiction

“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.”

---