Page 72 of Chief's Addiction

“I should have listened to you,” I whispered, unable to stop the tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Mason’s arms tightened around me. “Shh. None of that matters now.” His voice was rough with emotion. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

“Safe,” I agreed as my vision began to blur.

“Stay with me, Cora!”

I tried. I really did, but the pain was too much.

Chapter 17

Chief

“She needs a hospital.” I cradled Cora’s unconscious body against my chest as I maneuvered her over to Rage’s truck and carefully placed her in the back seat.

Fuck.

She was so pale, her usually sun-kissed skin was ashen beneath the bloom of bruises. Blood from the dog bite had soaked through her jeans, the denim now stiff and dark.

Every time my eyes landed on another injury—the swollen eye, the gash at her temple, the torn skin at her wrists—rage boiled hotter in my veins.

Spike was a dead man walking.

I brushed a strand of blood stained hair from Cora’s face, my hand shaking with the effort of being gentle when all I wanted was to destroy the motherfucker who’d done this to her.

My SAA glanced over. “Doc can handle this, Prez. Taking her to Jacksonville General means questions neither of us want to answer.”

I knew Rage was right. A hospital meant cops and questions about how she’d gotten the injuries. It meant explaining the dog bite, the defensive wounds on her hands, the bruises on her wrists.

But fuck, she looked bad.

I’d seen plenty of battle wounds in my time, but seeing them on Cora felt like someone had stuck a knife in my goddamn chest.

“If Doc thinks it’s more serious, I’ll take her to the hospital myself,” Rage promised, his voice unusually gentle as he watched me hover over my girl.

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. Rage was right. “Take care of her,” I said, my voice a low rasp.

I closed the truck door, turning to find Beckett standing behind me, his tall frame hunched with exhaustion and something else. Guilt. It was written all over his bruised face.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. “It’s my fault. I should’ve?—”

I put a hand on his shoulder and shook my head. “You’re a kid, Beck. It was my job to keep you both safe, and I let you down.” My voice was rough, scraping past the knot in my throat.

His face crumpled, and before I knew what was happening, he was surging forward, wrapping his skinny arms around my middle and burying his face in my cut. I held my arms out, unsure what to do with this unexpected show of emotion.

“She tried to protect me,” he mumbled against the leather.

Something fierce I’d never felt before unfurled in my chest as I listened to this kid—this brave, loyal kid who’d tried to protect my woman. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding him tight as he shuddered against me.

It hit me then, like a punch to the gut, how much I’d come to care about Beckett. He wasn’t just some charity case I’d taken in. He was more than that. He felt like... mine. Like a son.

Jesus Christ. When had that happened?

Gently, I pushed him back, keeping my hands on his shoulders as I looked him in the eye. “I need you to go with Rage and let Doc check you over.”

He nodded, wiping roughly at his eyes with the back of his hand. “What about you? Aren’t you coming?”

A muscle ticked in my jaw as I struggled to keep my voice level. “I’ve got business to take care of.”

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