Page 27 of Chief's Addiction

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?”