Page 54 of Chief's Addiction

Chief

One week.

That was how long Cora and the kid had been living in my house, and damn if it hadn’t felt like they’d always been there. My place was usually as quiet as a fucking tomb.

Now, with the two of them under my roof, it was filled with Cora’s laughter echoing through the halls and Beckett’s textbooks, sneakers, and half-empty soda cans scattered everywhere.

Leaning back in the leather chair behind my desk at the clubhouse, I lit a cigarette as I thought about how things had played out over the last week.

The mornings had fallen into a routine of me driving Cora and Beckett to surf lessons at the ass-crack of dawn, Cueball taking Beckett to school, and me leaving for the clubhouse to deal with club shit while Rage and the others continued hunting for Spike.

The afternoons and evenings? Those were different now too.

A few days ago I had the prospects install a basketball hoop in the driveway after catching Beckett bouncing a ball against the side of the house. The look on the kid’s face when he’d come home from school and saw the goal hit me in the chest like a fucking hammer. It was like he couldn’t believe someone had done something just for him. The realization that nobody probably had before made my blood boil.

“You play?” he had asked, eyes wide as he stared at the hoop.

I’d hesitated, memories of pickup games with my Pops back in the day flashing through my mind. “Used to, but it’s been a while.” Then I tossed him the ball I’d bought that afternoon, watching as a grin broke across his face, transforming him from that wary, guarded kid into just a teenager. Just a fucking kid.

We’d played around the world and H.O.R.S.E. until the sun went down, shirts soaked with sweat and talking shit the whole time.

“You think that weak-ass shot’s gonna beat me, old man?” he taunted after sinking a three-pointer.

“Old man?” I’d laughed, stealing the ball and dunking it with ease. “Just getting warmed up, kid.”

The kid was pretty good. He was quick on his feet and a decent shot. When he won both games, his face lit up with more happiness than I’d seen since meeting him.

Cora had watched from the porch, a beer dangling from her fingers, smiling that smile that made my fucking chest hurt, like she was seeing something in me nobody else ever did.

She’d been less thrilled about the prospect I’d assigned to follow her. But that was non-negotiable. Not with Spike still out there and the Russians potentially gunning for us.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she argued on day three, hands on her hips, blue eyes flashing with fury, her chest rising and falling with each angry breath. “I’ve been taking care of myself since I was sixteen, Mason. I can’t do my job with one of you minions hovering over me all day. My boss is already asking questions.”

Backing her against the kitchen counter, I caged her in with my hands on either side of her hips, feeling the heat of her body radiating through the thin fabric of her uniform. “It’s not up for discussion, baby.”

“Oh, it absolutely is up for discussion. I’m not some child who?—”

I cut her off with my mouth, kissing her until her hands were fisted in my shirt and her body was pressed against mine like she couldn’t get close enough. When I finally pulled back, her eyes were glazed over and her pouty pink lips were swollen.

“You were saying?” I asked, smirking at her dazed expression.

“That’s not fair,” she muttered, head still somewhere in the clouds as her fingers loosened their grip on my shirt only to slide up and around my neck.

“Never said I’d play fair, baby.” I traced my thumb across her lower lip, watching her pupils dilate. “I do what I gotta do to keep what’s mine safe.”

In the end, she reluctantly agreed to the prospect shadowing her, though she still complained about it daily. My woman was stubborn as fuck, but damn if it weren’t fun bringing her around to my way of thinking.

Three sharp knocks from the other side of my office door pulled me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I called, straightening in my chair as I pushed thoughts of Cora’s body pressed to mine out of my head.

The door swung open and there stood my sister. Blonde hair pulled up on the top of her head, and dressed from head to toe in black, as usual. She looked tired. There was a faint bruise on her jaw that hadn’t been there when she left.

My eyes narrowed. “What the fuck happened, Foxy?” I growled.

“Nothing.” She lifted a hand, waving me off like it was nothing.

It pissed me off that she was acting like it was no big fucking deal because it fucking was. And judging by the size of the mark on her face, a grown ass man had put his hands on her.

“Bullshit!” I growled, gesturing for her to come in and close the door.

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