Page 9 of Chief's Addiction

I clenched my jaw. Typical. My grandfather made it a point to put himself between Foxy and the club.

You see. My sister had a special set of skills. Skills that meant the worst of the worst often needed her assistance. At a hefty price of course. As a cleaner she operated independently of the club. It had always been that way, even when my grandfather held the position. It made things safer for everyone.

But Foxy was my little sister, and with the Talons situation about to kick off, her taking a job to who knew where, wasn’t really sitting well with me.

“It’s not a good time for her to be out of town,” I voiced my concerns again.

Shade placed a hand on my shoulder. “Your sister knows how to take care of herself.”

That was exactly what worried me. My sister also had a temper and a twitchy trigger finger. That meant sometimes she got her self into situations where she needed backup.

“She’ll be back before you know it,” Pops added, his tone suggesting the conversation was over. “Now tell me what the boys cooked up for tonight?”

I met his gaze squarely. “We’re taking them out. Permanently.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “All of them?”

“Every last fucking-one.” I hadn’t made the decision lightly. “They made it personal when they attacked us. Time to return the favor.”

Shade’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Now that’s the Sosa way.”

It sure as fuck was. An eye for a fucking eye.

Draining my glass, I stood. It was time to get down to business.

“Church!” I bellowed.

My brothers immediately began wrapping up what they were doing. Darts were set aside, drinks were finished, conversations died mid-sentence.

“Alright. Listen up, motherfuckers,” I said as I strolled into the room and took my seat at the head of the table. “Tonight, we send the Talons straight to hell where they belong.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before a slow, feral grin spread across Rage’s face. “Bout damn time,” he rumbled.

Morpheus glanced around the table, then back at me. “Zero’s got the details on their clubhouse. Go ahead, brother.”

Zero, our tech man, cleared his throat and stood. Despite being the newest member of the club, he’d earned the respect of everyone seated around the table. The man was a computer genius. He could hack into anything with an internet connection.

“The Talons’ clubhouse is an old warehouse on the east side,” he began, unfolding a printout of what looked like blueprints. “Two main entrances.” He pointed to them both. “This is the front door, and here’s the loading dock in the back. Their security cameras are basic commercial grade. I’ve already looped their feed, so they’ll see normal activity while we’re there.”

He pointed out other spots on the blueprint in front of him. “Based on the power consumption I’ve been monitoring, they keep most of their valuable shit down in the basement. Most likely weapons or narcotics. Their bikes are usually parked here.” He indicated an area off to the side of the building.

Rage leaned forward. “What about the party tonight? How many bodies are we talking about?”

“According to the chatter I’ve pulled from their phones, they’re celebrating a deal they’ve secured,” Zero replied. “Probably twenty people tops.”

I nodded. “We go in hard and fast. Cut off the head of the snake.”

Killer cracked his knuckles, a sinister smile spreading across his face.

Reign’s head tipped to the side. “It’ll be a right bloodbath. Sure ya want to go this far, Chief?”

I was more than sure. “They drew first blood. We’re finishing it.”

Morpheus ran a hand through his hair. “All right then. What’s the plan?”

“Zero will handle their security feeds. Morph, you coordinate the teams. Rage, you’re leading the assault through the front entrance and Killer will take the back with Reign and Dread. We’ll go in at ten o’clock sharp. Leave your cuts here.”

Dread cleared his throat. “What about the cops? Response time in that area is eight minutes, maybe less.”

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