Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Werewolf
The ride back to the clubhouse should’ve cleared my head. That’s usually what the road did. Wind in my face, asphalt humming under two wheels, and the roar of the bike drowning out everything else.
Not tonight.
Tonight, every time I blinked, I saw her face.
Demi Cross.
The stubborn little thing who refused to run when I backed her against a wall. Who looked me dead in the eye when I told her she’d end up in the ground if she kept pushing.
She wasn’t scared enough. And it was going to get her killed.
But the worst part?
I didn’t want her to be scared of me.
That thought pissed me off more than anything. Fear was my shield. It kept the world in line, kept enemies on their heels, and kept brothers looking at me like I was the monster who could handle anything they threw my way. It was the reason the Prez trusted me to be his hammer.
If Demi didn’t fear me… what the hell did that make me?
The clubhouse was already buzzing when I pulled in. Bikes lined the lot, and laughter spilled out from the porch where a couple of brothers leaned with beers in hand.
I parked, killed the engine, and swung off the bike. A couple of heads turned. I ignored them and pushed through the door into the thick haze of smoke and whiskey.
Inside, it was business as usual. Music thumped from the jukebox. Brothers crowded the pool table. A few old ladies perched on laps and giggled too loudly at whatever stories they were being fed.
None of it mattered. My boots carried me straight down the hall to the Prez’s office.
I didn’t knock this time. Just pushed the door open.
Prez looked up with a cigar clamped between his teeth. His eyes narrowed when he saw me. “Wolf. Twice in one week. That’s either real bad news or real dumb luck.”
I dropped into the chair across from him, leaning back, arms folded. “Depends on how you look at it.”
He grunted. “Spit it out.”
“Cross’s sister came to me again today.”
His gaze sharpened instantly. “And?”
“She’s digging. Won’t quit.”
“Did you handle it?” His voice was steel.
I should’ve said yes. Should’ve told him she was scared off, that she’d packed up and left town, that she was no longer our problem.
Instead, I lied.
“Yeah. She’s done.”
Prez studied me for a long beat with smoke curling from the end of his cigar. His eyes were hard and weighed me like a man measuring a weapon to see if it still cut sharp.
“You’re sure.”
“Positive.” I kept my face blank and my voice steady, like I’d just given the weather report.
He leaned back. “Good. Last thing we need is some grieving little girl dragging heat our way. Her brother already made enough of a mess.”
My jaw tightened.
“Wolf,” Prez said, his tone shifting low, “you know where your loyalty lies, don’t you?”
“Always.”
He searched my face, then finally nodded. “Good. Go grab a drink. You look like you could use one.”
I gave him one nod and turned on my heel.
The door clicked shut behind me, and the noise of the clubhouse hit again. Laughter, music, shouts. Life moved on like nothing had changed.
But something had.
Because for the first time in a long damn time, I’d lied to my president.
And I’d done it for a woman I barely knew.
I found myself at the bar with half a bottle of whiskey before I realized I was even drinking.
My brothers came and went. Slapped me on my shoulder, cracked jokes, but it all washed over me.
My head was back in that alley with Demi.
The way her voice shook but didn’t break when she demanded answers.
The way she looked at me like she didn’t give a damn if I was the monster they said I was.
No one looked at me like that.
People saw the cut, the ink, the scars. They saw the violence. They didn’t look deeper.
Hell, most days, I didn’t want them to.
But she had.
And it rattled me worse than any bullet or blade ever had.
Later, I stepped outside to clear my head. The night air was cooler now, and the hum of cicadas filled the dark edges of the lot. I lit a cigarette, leaned against my bike, and stared out at nothing.
This should’ve been simple.
Prez said handle her. I’d handled worse. One girl shouldn’t have been a problem.
But she wasn’t just some girl.
She was Tyler Cross’s sister.
And Tyler Cross was already a ghost that haunted me more than I wanted to admit.
If I told her the truth, she’d never walk away. If I didn’t, she’d keep digging until she found it herself. Either way, she was marked.
And somehow, some twisted part of me had already decided I wasn’t going to let her go down like her brother did.
Even if it meant burning everything else to the ground.
-
The next morning, the clubhouse was quieter.
Most of the guys were passed out in their rooms or sprawled on couches.
I’d never been much for sleep, so I ended up in the garage, working on my bike.
Grease on my hands, tools lined up neat, and the steady rhythm of tightening bolts. It was the only place I found peace.
Except even here, she followed me.
Demi.
Her voice. Her eyes. The way she’d stood there, refusing to back down even when I’d had her pinned against concrete.
I scrubbed a hand down my face and cursed under my breath.
This was a mistake waiting to happen.
And I couldn’t stop myself from waiting for the next time she’d come knocking.
That afternoon, Chick, one of our younger patched members, wandered into the garage with a yawn big enough to crack his jaw. “Prez wants you, Wolf.”
I set down the wrench and wiped my hands on a rag. “Now?”
“Now.”
I followed him back inside, heart ticking faster. Prez was at the long table in the main room with a few of the other officers: Mac, the Vice Prez, Coup, the Treasurer, and Tremor, the Road Captain. Their faces were grim.
“Word is,” Prez said when I stepped up, “the girl ain’t as gone as you said she was.”
My stomach sank, but I kept my expression neutral. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Bar owner downtown. Said she’s been asking about her brother again. Using your name.”
Fuck.
“She’s persistent,” I said carefully.
“She’s a liability,” Tremor cut in, voice sharp. “If she keeps sniffing, we’re all screwed. You know what we gotta do, Wolf.”
The weight of their eyes pressed down on me. They were waiting for me to agree, to nod, to go put a bullet in Demi Cross and call it a night.
“Or I just keep an eye on her. If she goes missing like her brother, we’re going to have the rest of her family breathing down our necks. I’ll keep her close, and she won’t cause us any trouble.”
Tremor glared at me. “You looking out for the club or wanting to get your dick wet?” he asked.
Coup chuckled. “I’ve seen her. I can’t really blame you for wanting a piece of that.”
“You think your dick is that magical that she’ll just forget about her dead brother?” Prez asked.
I shrugged. “Haven’t had any complaints.”
“I say you just kill her, and we keep moving forward,” Tremor growled.
Prez held up his hand. “He has a point. If we keep killing people, we’re going to have the cops breathing down our necks.
” He turned his eyes to me. “If you can keep her quiet without killing her, do it.” He pinned me with his glare.
“But if this goes even a little sideways, you’ll both get bullets in your heads. ”
Tremor sneered. “And I’m going to be the one holding the gun.”
Mac chuckled.
“Hypnotize the chick with your dick, and keep her out of the club business,” Prez ordered.
I nodded and stood. “Got it.”
This was not the way I had planned to handle Demi, but it sat better with me than just killing her.
She was safe for now.