Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Werewolf
She had guts, I’d give her that.
Most people didn’t step foot in the garage without permission, let alone march across the lot with her chin up and fire in her eyes like she owned the damn place.
And nobody, nobody, shoved papers in my face and demanded answers.
But Demi Cross wasn’t most people.
She was a problem wrapped in stubbornness and grief. And as I stared down at the crumpled phone records in her hand, I knew she’d just crossed a line I couldn’t ignore.
“Then help me.”
Those three words hit harder than any bullet ever had.
For a second, I just stared at her, my jaw tight, and fought the urge to slam her against the wall again and shake sense into her. She didn’t get it; this wasn’t a game, it wasn’t a puzzle she could solve if she just pushed hard enough.
This was blood and bullets and loyalty. This was a world that would chew her up and spit her out.
And she was asking me to walk her right into the middle of it.
Around us, the garage had gone quiet. A couple of brothers lingered near the back, pretending to work but watching with sharp eyes.
They knew better than to step in, but their presence was a reminder I didn’t need.
Prez had already told me to handle her. If anyone suspected I was doing more than entertaining her questions, it’d be my ass on the line.
I snatched the papers from her hands and scanned them fast. Burners. Records that matched up with names I recognized but couldn’t admit out loud. My gut twisted.
She wasn’t wrong.
“Where’d you get this?” I asked again, softer this time but still sharp enough to cut.
Her chin lifted. “Does it matter?”
“It matters if someone’s feeding you this shit to bait you into getting killed.”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “I found it myself.”
I believed her, which was worse because it meant she was digging deeper than I thought possible.
I crumpled the papers in my fist and fought the urge to throw them back in her face. Instead, I leaned down until my nose was a breath from hers.
“You have no idea what you’re asking me to do,” I said, voice low. “If the club even suspects you handed me this, you won’t live to see tomorrow.”
“Then keep it quiet,” she shot back.
Her eyes burned into mine, fierce and unrelenting. For the first time, I felt something crack inside me. Not weakness. Not fear. Something worse.
Need.
The urge to grab her, to taste her defiance, and to claim it before it got either of us killed.
I jerked back and put space between us before I did something stupid.
“Get out,” I said, the words rough and ragged.
Her brow furrowed. “What—”
“Out!” My voice cracked like a whip and echoed through the garage. The brothers at the back stiffened, then quickly looked busy again.
She flinched but didn’t move.
Of course she didn’t.
“Not until you tell me you’ll help,” she said, quieter now but with the same steel in her voice.
My fists clenched at my sides. “You don’t get it, Demi. Help means betraying my brothers. And betraying them means a bullet in the back of my skull.”
For once, she hesitated. Her lip trembled, but she bit it hard and forced her chin higher. “My brother’s dead. And if you know something, if you could stop this from happening again, then keeping your mouth shut makes you just as guilty as the one who killed him.”
That landed like a punch to the gut.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
I’d been carrying the weight of Tyler Cross’s death for months, shoved it into the dark corners of my mind, telling myself it wasn’t my fault. That it was the club’s business. That some things were better left buried.
But Demi’s words dug under my skin like barbed wire.
I swore under my breath and grabbed her arm. I dragged her toward the back of the garage. She stumbled once but kept up while glaring at me the whole way.
When we reached the office tucked behind the tool cages, I shoved her inside and shut the door.
Her back hit the desk, and she straightened instantly with fire blazing in her eyes.
“You don’t get to manhandle me like—”
“Shut up,” I snapped and paced the room like a caged animal. My heart pounded against my ribs, fury and confusion tangled until I couldn’t tell one from the other.
Finally, I stopped and faced her.
“You want my help? Fine. But you do exactly what I say, when I say it. You don’t go sniffing around on your own, you don’t talk to anyone about this, and if you so much as breathe the wrong word to the wrong person, I will personally put you on a bus out of this city and make damn sure you never come back. ”
Her lips parted, surprise flickering before she masked it with defiance. “So you are going to help.”
“Don’t twist it.” I jabbed a finger at her. “This isn’t for you. It’s to keep your stubborn ass alive long enough for me to figure out who I have to bury to make this go away.”
“Semantics,” she muttered.
I growled and shoved a hand through my hair. Christ, she was infuriating.
And I was in too deep already.
We went over the papers spread across the desk. She leaned close and pointed out the calls while her hair brushed my arm. Every nerve in me tightened.
“This number,” she said and tapped the burner number. “He called it twice the week before he died. Then nothing. And the night he was killed, he called another number linked to your… club.” She said it carefully, like the word tasted wrong.
I followed her finger, and my eyes caught on a detail I hadn’t noticed before. Times. Dates. Calls that lined up with shipments I didn’t want her knowing about.
Fuck.
She was closer to the truth than I’d realized.
“This doesn’t prove anything,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.
Her head whipped toward me with her eyes blazing. “Don’t lie to me.”
I froze.
Because no one talked to me like that. No one called me on my bullshit.
But she had.
And instead of snapping, I found myself staring at her mouth, wondering what it would feel like pressed against mine.
Dangerous.
I stepped back and put distance between us. “You need to go home. Now. That’s enough for today.”
Her arms crossed over her chest. “And if I don’t?”
“Then I will physically take you home and make sure you stay there.”
Her lips curved into something between a smirk and a challenge. “So either way, you’re stuck with me.”
My jaw clenched. “Looks like it.”
And for the first time in a long damn time, I felt the ground shift under me.
Because I knew this wasn’t just about Demi’s brother anymore.
This was about her.
And God help me; I wasn’t sure I wanted to let her go.