Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
HADLEY
Istand in front of the dirty, cracked mirror in my motel room, carefully brushing out my long red hair before gathering it back into a neat braid.
As the eldest of four kids back home in Barrington, I spent most of my life managing household chaos, smoothing over crises, and making sure my three younger siblings had what they needed before I ever worried about myself.
Working double shifts as a motel maid early in the morning, followed by data entry at night is just another way to keep the plates spinning.
Reaching into my worn leather purse, I pull out a crumpled wad of cash earned from the first week of living and working at the Royal Motel.
I count it out carefully, sliding all but fifty dollars into an envelope addressed to my mom.
It’s not a fortune, but it’ll cover a few days of groceries and buy new shoes for Leo, who just turned eleven and seems to outgrow everything faster than we can keep up.
With an exhausted sigh, I roll out my tired shoulders, grab my bag, and step out into the cool Pacific Northwest night for the three-block walk to King’s Logistics.
When I turn the corner toward the warehouse, I freeze.
Wolf is leaning casually against the side of the building, his muscular arms crossed tightly over his chest, his dark green eyes locked onto me with rapt, unblinking intensity.
Even from yards away, his presence dominates the empty lot.
He’s a fortress of solid muscle and ink, his long light-brown hair untamed by the wind, looking like every kind of trouble I’ve ever been warned against. His spicy evergreen and heavy leather scent, mixed with something raw and undeniably masculine, hits me before I’m even close enough to touch him.
As I walk toward the intimidating man, every single nerve ending in my body comes alive.
My skin tingles, my pulse races, and an acute, trembling awareness settles deep in my core.
I’ve never been the focus of anyone’s attention.
Not like this, not by a man who looks like a dangerous predator carved out of stone.
By the time I reach the steps, I’m nearly shaking with a strange, breathless anticipation.
Wolf pushes off the wall, his jaw tight. "Did you walk here alone in the dark?" he asks. It’s more of a demand than a question, his voice a low, rough rumble.
I blink, thrown entirely off balance by the sheer force of his tone. Is he… angry? I don't understand. "Uh, yes? Is that… a problem?”
He heaves out a heavy sigh, running a large hand over his face before shaking his head. "It’s not safe."
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest to mirror his stance.
"I can walk three blocks by myself, thank-you-very-much.
" Yet, beneath my irritation, a strange, warm flutter blooms in my chest. While my mom was always loving, and my siblings were grateful, nobody has ever looked at me with this kind of fierce, unyielding intensity. Nobody has ever watched over me.
Wolf’s gaze hardens as he scans the empty lot and the single dark road leading away from the property. "Where’d you come from?"
"Barrington," I answer easily, naming my hometown several hours away.
He narrows his eyes, waiting for more. When I just offer a tight, sweet smile, his expression doesn't relent. I’m learning that Wolf never backs down. "And where are you staying?"
"The Royal Motel," I mutter, looking away.
Wolf lets out a sharp huff, a dark scowl twisting his features. "There's nothing royal about that shithole."
The condescension in his voice triggers a sharp, defensive snap inside me. I’m all too familiar with people looking down at my family for being poor and living in rough neighborhoods. I glare up at him. "My living situation is none of your business."
He grunts out something dark and low under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, Everything about you is my business, but I must have misheard him.
Thankfully, my new boss doesn’t say anything else, he simply nods his chin toward the door and follows me inside. His boots thud against the concrete floor, each step making my heart beat faster and faster as his now-familiar scent wraps around me.
Get it together! He’s your boss. Plus, he’s chiseled, older, sexy as hell, and dangerous.
There’s no way he’d ever look at my chubby body and…
and what? Want me? Kiss me? More? Truth be told, I’ve never had a relationship, physical or otherwise.
I wouldn’t know what to do with a man like Wolf, even if I thought I had a chance.
Inside the office, we settle into a tense rhythm.
I’ve already worked with data-entry software extensively and don't really need a tutorial, but Wolf insists on hovering. He paces back and forth across the small room, straightening up papers here and there and tidying up. His gaze is constantly darting back to me, however. Is he waiting to fire me? Micromanaging me? I can’t tell, and it’s driving me nuts.
"Should I take a desk out in the bullpen with the others?" I ask, gesturing toward the main floor to ease the suffocating tension.
"No," he grunts, his tone final.
I’m not sure if I’m in trouble, or if this intense, overbearing supervision is just standard probationary hazing for new hires.
But the way his green eyes keep tracking my every movement makes me question his real motives.
I can’t figure Wolf out, but there’s no denying the erratic, heated way my body reacts whenever he’s near.
Eventually, he drops heavily onto the small couch across the room, letting me finally focus on the screen.
Hours bleed together. As I cross-reference the digital shipping manifests against the physical logs, a cold hitch catches my breath. A series of tracking numbers and weight metrics don't line up at all. I frown, pulling up the file again to double-check, then triple-check my work.
I turn around, ready to ask Wolf to take a look, only to stop short.
He’s stretched out on the couch, fast asleep, deep, steady breaths lifting his broad chest. Even in sleep, the man looks intense. A slight, stubborn furrow is etched permanently between his dark brows as if he’s solving a war even behind closed eyes.
A quiet wave of empathy washes over me. That expression looks far too familiar.
I spent my whole childhood managing my younger siblings—helping with homework, patching up skinned knees, scraping together pennies for school lunches, and carrying the crushing weight of a family that never had quite enough money.
I recognize that exhaustion. I see the same restless burden in Wolf’s taut, strained muscles, knowing he carries the weight of King’s Logistics as well as the Rebel Kings MC on his shoulders just like I carried my family.
I’d heard whispers about the motorcycle club when I accepted the job, and though I wasn't sure what to think at first, I couldn't judge them. I’ve spent my life being judged by people who didn't know my story; I refuse to do the same to him.
Turning back to my screen, I make a note of the strange anomalies in the manifest before pushing them aside for the night.
When I glance at the clock, it’s nearly four in the morning.
Wolf is still dead to the world on the couch.
Spotting a heavy wool blanket tossed over a stack of boxes in the corner, I quietly grab it and drape it gently over his massive frame.
He shifts slightly, letting out a low rumble, but doesn't wake.
I gather my bag and slip out into the chill of the morning.
As I walk the dark blocks back toward the motel, a prickly sensation crawls up the back of my neck. I glance over my shoulder, the shadows stretching long under the flickering streetlights. I shake my head, scolding myself for letting exhaustion play tricks on my mind.
When I finally reach the motel, I pause by the metal stairs to scan the deserted parking lot. Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see a dark, shadowy figure dart quickly behind a concrete pillar before vanishing into the night.
My heart leaps into my throat, but I force myself to unlock my door and step inside, convincing myself I'm just seeing things. I collapse onto the lumpy mattress, setting an alarm for forty-five minutes. It’s barely enough time to sleep before my morning shift as a maid begins, but it will have to do.
As my heavy eyelids finally drift shut, the only image I see in the dark is Wolf's intense green eyes.