Page 49 of Chief's Addiction

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, señorita.” 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?”