Page 43 of Chief's Addiction

A few months ago? His sister? Relief that Tonya had never been in the space washed over me instantly.

God! I was being ridiculous.

The rustle of Beckett’s trash bag drew our attention. The poor kid. The swelling around his eyes was worse and he looked like he was ready to bolt.

“Let me show you where you can put that,” Mason offered, his tone gentle like I’d only ever heard him use with me. “And then I think the three of us need to have a chat, yeah?”

Beckett nodded, his shoulders hunched as he followed Mason down a hallway. I trailed behind them, taking in more details of the house; the subtle scent of pine, the spotless hardwood floors, the way everything seemed perfectly in its place.

Mason pushed open a door at the end of the hallway to reveal a good-sized bedroom with a full bed covered in a navy comforter, a solid dark wood dresser, and a big TV mounted on the wall. It wasn’t overly decorated, but it was warm and welcoming.

“Bathroom’s through there,” Mason pointed to a door on the far wall. “There’s towels and shit in the cabinet; use whatever you need.”

Beckett set his bag on the bed as he looked around the room, seeming very uncomfortable and overwhelmed.

My heart ached for him.

Before I could ask if being there was okay, a sharp knock sounded from the front door.

“Be right back,” Mason said, sliding past me with a brief touch to my lower back.

Once we were alone, I moved to sit beside Beckett on the edge of the bed.

“You okay?” I asked softly.

He nodded, then winced as the movement aggravated his swollen eye. “Yeah. Just... I don’t get it. Why is he doing this?”

I considered the question. It was common knowledge in Jacksonville that the Saints were outlaws. They weren’t known for being Boy Scouts. They also would never hurt a woman or a child. “He’s a good man underneath all that scary biker stuff,” I found myself saying.

Beckett looked doubtful. “Nobody does something for nothing.”

The cynicism in his voice chipped away at a piece of my heart. Beckett was young. He’d been through a lot. I didn’t know what happened to his parents but there were only so many reasons someone ended up in the system and none of them were good.

“Cora? Beck?” Mason called from the living room. “Come out here, please.”

We looked at each other, both of us with big eyes. “I’ve got your back.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, standing up after me.

Grabbing onto his hand, I gave it a squeeze then pulled him behind me back to the living room. Mason was standing there with an older man who looked to be in his early-sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair and kind eyes despite his rugged appearance.

“This is Doc,” Mason introduced. “He’s going to check Beck out, make sure there are no broken bones or anything we need to worry about.”

I looked at Beckett. “Is that okay with you?”

He glanced back at Doc and nodded, though he still looked skittish. “I guess.”

“I’m just gonna take a quick look, son,” Doc assured him. “Nothing invasive, I promise.”

Cautiously, Beckett followed Doc back into the bedroom.

The moment the door closed behind them, I turned to Mason. “What are we going to do?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.

Mason ran a hand through his short hair. “We’re going to ask the kid what he wants.”

I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I have a feeling the kid’s never been given a choice about what happens to him.”

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