Page 68 of Chief's Addiction

When my legs threatened to give out, I ducked behind a red shipping container, dropping into a crouch as I struggled to catch my breath.

“Beck—” My heart slammed against my chest. Where was he? He’d been right behind me.

“Found you,” Spike’s voice growled in my ear.

I turned, my eyes connecting with his bloodshot gaze just as he swung the gun in his hand toward my face. Pain exploded across my cheek and temple, white-hot and blinding.

Then everything went black.

“Cora? Cora, please wake up.”

Beckett’s scared voice penetrated into the darkness, latching onto me and bringing me back to consciousness. My head throbbed with each heartbeat, a stabbing pain radiating from my temple. I tried to open my eyes, but only the right one cooperated. The left felt swollen.

“Thank God,” Beckett breathed as I stirred. “I thought you were... I thought he’d killed you.”

I groaned, pushing myself up to sit. The movement sent a lick of fire through my skull. Gingerly, I touched the side of my face where Spike had hit me and felt the stickiness of drying blood.

“Where are we?” I croaked, finally taking in our surroundings. We were in a small, windowless room with concrete floors and walls. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling.

“Some kind of warehouse basement, I think,” Beckett said, hovering nervously beside me. His face was pale beneath his mop of brown hair, a bruise blooming across his cheekbone. “They caught me right after you ran. I saw... when they brought you in, you were bleeding so bad.”

I swallowed, my throat dry as sandpaper. “Did you see anything when they brought us here? Anything that might help us figure out where we are?”

Beckett nodded, dropping his voice even lower. “We’re definitely at the docks. When they dragged us through the warehouse, I saw big crates upstairs with ‘Explosives’ painted on the sides. I think they were some kind of shipping crates.”

Explosives? Jesus. What the hell had we landed in the middle of?

Before I could ask more questions, the metal door swung open with a screech. Spike sauntered in, looking even more manic than before, his pupils blown wide in his gaunt face. He’d shed his cut, revealing skinny arms covered in faded tattoos.

“Sleeping Beauty’s awake,” he announced, his voice loud in the small space. “Good. Wouldn’t be any fun if you slept through the whole party.”

I pushed myself further upright, ignoring the way the room tilted. “What do you want with us?”

He crouched down, bringing his face level with mine. His breath was sour and he reeked of cigarette smoke.

“I want your boyfriend to suffer,” he said, his tone almost conversational, as if we were discussing the weather. “See, Chief stole something from me. Something valuable. My girls.”

I blinked my one good eye, confused. “Girls?”

“My merchandise!” he shouted suddenly, making both Beckett and me flinch. “Those bitches were worth a fortune to the Russians. Do you have any idea how much money I lost when your fucking old man raided my operation?”

None of this made sense. What girls? What operation? Mason hadn’t mentioned anything about this.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said honestly.

Spike laughed, the sound crazed and unhinged. “Of course you don’t. Chief wouldn’t tell his little piece of ass about his business.” He leaned in closer, his bloodshot eyes narrowing. “But I’m going to make him pay. And I’m going to start by getting a taste of what he cares about most.” He licked his lips, eyeing me up and down.

My blood turned to ice as his meaning became clear. He reached out, running a dirty finger down my cheek.

“Maybe I’ll even let you live long enough to tell him what it was like,” he taunted, “before I slit your pretty throat.”

“Get away from her!” Beckett shouted, launching himself at Spike like a raging bull.

Spike stumbled back, caught off guard, but quickly regained his footing. With a roar of fury, he slammed his fist into Beckett’s stomach, doubling the boy over, then followed with a brutal uppercut that sent Beck sprawling across the concrete floor.

“No!” I screamed, throwing myself between them as Spike advanced on Beckett’s crumpled form. “Leave him alone! He’s just a kid!”

Spike’s face twisted with rage. “A kid? He’s Chief’s kid now, isn’t he?” He spat the last word like it disgusted him.

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