Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
WOLF
Iunlock the heavy oak door to my small, sturdy cabin tucked away at the edge of the forest just outside town, my chest growing strangely tight. For the first time in damn near forever, a sharp wave of self-consciousness hits my chest.
Pausing in the doorway, I’m suddenly looking at my own space through someone else’s eyes.
Hadley is the very first person I’ve ever brought here, the first soul I’ve ever let inside my private domain.
Sure, I spend plenty of time at the clubhouse, the warehouse, or Stryker’s big, beautiful family home, but I’ve never been one for hosting. Not that I have the room for it anyway.
I sweep my gaze across the small living room. Takeout boxes from two nights ago still sit on the coffee table, a couple of stray mugs clutter the kitchen counter, and the old box TV I left running this morning is currently playing some grainy, flickering rerun of an 80s football game.
I rub the back of my neck, feeling a hot flush crawl up my collar. "Sorry about the mess."
Hadley slips past me into the room, her eyes wide as she takes it all in. Instead of judging, she just waves a hand dismissively. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the intruder here. I'm the one crashing in your space. I should be apologizing to you."
I stare at her, blinking. For a second, I think she’s being sarcastic. But when I look down into those soft, earnest brown eyes, I see disarming sincerity. There’s not an ounce of calculation in her.
Right then, a heavy, profound realization strikes me straight in the ribs: I trust her.
I don't trust easily. I don't trust anyone, especially women, not after growing up with my old man and his harem of girlfriends. He treated them terribly, and they gave it right back, every single time. Some of the anger was aimed at me for no other reason than I was in the room.
But Hadley? This sweet young woman just trying to make an honest living? She’s so open, so fiercely genuine and unpretentious, that I'm pretty sure she isn't even capable of lying—or at least, not lying convincingly.
"Come on," I murmur, my voice softening as I lead her down the short hallway. "I'll show you around."
I give her a quick tour, pointing out the small bathroom and the guest room at the end of the hall.
"The shower's in there. There’s a clean towel in the cupboard, and I can dig out an old t-shirt or something for you to sleep in.
We can go grab some of your things from that dump of a motel tomorrow in the daylight. "
Hadley looks up at me, her expression thick with an overwhelming mix of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, Wolf. For everything. For keeping me safe."
I feel a muscle tick in my jaw. No one has ever looked at me like that, let alone thanked me with a shy but authentic smile.
"I'll clean the bathroom when I'm done," she tacks on quickly, her hands fidgeting with the strap of her bag. "And I can do your laundry in the morning, get these dishes cleared—"
"Hey." I shake my head, cutting her off instantly. All I did was offer basic human courtesy, a shower and a safe place to stay, and here she is ready to scrub my floors with a toothbrush to earn her keep.
I turn to step past her toward the kitchen, but I misjudge the distance in the tight hallway and accidentally bump right into her.
"Oh! Sorry, I'm always getting in the way," she gasps, immediately shrinking back.
I catch her shoulders before she can step away, my hands wrapping firmly around her. My thumbs automatically begin brushing slow, soothing circles against the soft skin on her neck.
"Stop," I rasp, my voice dropping an octave, dead serious. "Look at me, Hadley. Really hear me when I say this."
Her dark brown eyes lock onto mine, wide with alarm. She’s trembling from head to toe as if I’m going to yell at her.
"You are not a burden," I tell her, letting every ounce of conviction I possess bleed into the words. "You deserve to take up space and have needs. You don't have to earn your right to breathe, and you sure as hell don't have to thank me for taking care of you."
Her bottom lip wobbles. God, her eyes well up with heavy tears, threatening to spill over. My chest aches so violently it feels like my heart is bruising against my ribs, which is insane, because I was thoroughly convinced I didn't even have one.
"No one’s ever..." she whispers, a pathetic little hitch catching in her throat. "I mean, I’m usually the one who... I'm always the one fixing things. Just... thank you."
She blinks rapidly, forcing the tears back down, though I know underneath that brave exterior, there's a whole ocean of weight she's carrying. I'll get the full truth out of her eventually. Right now, I just want to absorb her worry and replace it with confidence.
I lean in closer, slow and deliberate. Breathing in her scent of vanilla, rain, and something that’s purely Hadley, I let stray strands of her vibrant red hair tickle my lips and nose until my mouth brushes right against the sensitive shell of her ear.
"What did I say about thanking me?" I murmur against her skin.
A shiver runs straight down her spine. I press a lingering, reverent kiss to her temple, feeling her hands slide hesitantly up my chest until her palms rest flat against my pecs.
I have to physically bite the inside of my cheek to hold back a groaning curse at her tentative, feather-light touch.
Knowing I'm about to break my own rules if I stay within arm's reach for one more second, I slowly step back.
I have to let her go before I do something completely unhinged, like strip us both bare and haul her naked body into the shower with me.
"Go take your shower," I command roughly, clearing my throat as I turn toward the living room. "I'll clean up out here."
While she’s locked away in the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing softly down the hall, I force myself to stay busy.
I toss out the empty takeout boxes, load the sink, and pace across the floorboards.
But my brain is entirely hijacked by vivid, dangerous images of hot water cascading over her soft curves.
I yank my phone out of my pocket and fire off a quick text to Stryker, letting him know about the major weight discrepancies and corrupted manifests we found at the warehouse, adding that we need to talk face-to-face tomorrow.
Dragging a hand through my hair, I let out a sigh as a heavy, deeply unsettling knot twists in my gut. The syndicate behind this smuggling ring isn't playing games. Anyone who saw those manifests, anyone who gets too close to the truth, becomes a liability they’ll want to erase.
Panic spikes hot and sharp through my veins, immediately overwritten by cold, ruthless territory-claim.
Not her. They will have to go through every single member of the Rebel Kings MC, starting with me, before they lay a finger on Hadley.
I just found her. No power in this universe is going to take her from me.
A little while later, the bathroom door clicks open, and Hadley joins me in the small living room, wrapped in one of my oversized black t-shirts that hangs off her shoulder like a second skin.
The pair of sweatpants she’s wearing are comically large on her, and I notice she had to roll up the pant legs just so she can walk without tripping. Fucking adorable.
We sit down on the worn leather couch to talk about what she found in the manifests.
My protective, militant biker instinct is to lock her out of the danger entirely, to give her zero details so she can remain blissfully ignorant.
But the harsh reality hits me: she’s already standing in the crosshairs.
She has a right to know why she’s a target.
As I lay out the gravity of the smuggling setup and what the syndicate is capable of, I watch the color drain from her face.
Suddenly, she stands up, starting to pace across the small rug. Her breathing turns shallow, her eyes growing wide and frantic.
"If... if something happens to me," she babbles, her hands flying up to grip her hair, "if I lose this job or end up in trouble, my family back home won't be able to make rent. My mom already works two full-time jobs, and Corinne is barely twenty, but she’s trying to juggle scholarship applications while babysitting, pulling shifts at the diner with Mom, and doing freelance photography on the side. We're all working as much as humanly possible, but there’s never enough money at the end of the month. Leo needs new shoes, my mom’s car is falling apart, and—"
She’s talking a mile a minute, spiraling into a panic attack, and unaware she’s even saying it all out loud.
I stand up in a single, fluid motion and step directly into her path, cutting off her pacing. I grab her trembling hands and gently pull them away from her face, placing them flat against the center of my chest, right over my hammering heart.
"Hadley. Stop," I command, keeping my green eyes locked onto hers—steady, patient, and anchored. "Feel that?"
She blinks, looking down at my chest as her erratic breathing stammers. Under her palms, my heart beats with a steady, heavy, relentless rhythm.
"Match my breathing," I murmur, my voice low and hypnotic. "In. And out."
She stays frozen for a long, silent moment, letting my physical steadiness seep into her broken-down walls. Slowly, her shoulders drop. Her sharp, jagged inhales smooth out into deep, shuddering breaths.
"Let's go for a ride," I say softly, breaking the quiet.
She blinks up at me, startled, then glances back over her shoulder toward the dark window. "Now? But it’s the middle of the night!"
I don't let go of her hand. Instead, I give her a wicked, thoroughly unapologetic grin, tugging her toward the front door.
"I know," I say, my voice dropping into a rough tease. "That's what makes it fun."
Out in the cool midnight air, we climb onto my bike. The moment I kick up the stand and we pull out onto the winding, tree-lined coastal highway, Hadley wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her soft curves flush against my back.
We fly through the dark, cutting through the misty mountain air mixed with salty sea spray.
With every sharp turn and lean of the bike, I can physically feel the tension bleeding out of her frame, washing away into the wind.
It’s the exact same way I feel when I ride.
We don't speak. We don't need to. There’s a profound, electric peace in the roaring engine, the dark road, and the two of us against the world.
When I finally cut the engine back outside my cabin, we’re both trembling. And it has nothing to do with the cold.
We dismount, and Hadley turns to me, her eyes shining bright in the moonlight, filled with a depth of raw, unfiltered gratitude that strikes a chord in my newly acquired heart.
"That..." she breathes out, a soft, amazed smile touching her lips. "That is exactly what I needed."
I’m utterly overwhelmed by the vulnerability and emotion radiating off her.
She’s stunned that someone actually paid attention, that someone read her internal chaos and knew how to fix it without her having to ask.
It tears me apart realizing how rarely anyone has ever done that.
I like being this person for her. I want to be this person for her.
Before I can filter the move, my hands circle around her waist.
Hadley sways forward into my space, her dark eyes flickering up from my gaze to my lips. Her little pink tip of a tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip, and fuck, that’s my breaking point. There’s no holding back left in me.
I cup her flushed cheek in my palm, lean down, and rest my forehead directly against hers. We share the exact same ragged breath for a fraction of a second, and then I crash my mouth down onto hers.
It’s not gentle. It’s an instant, hungry explosion of want, a devastating, consuming kiss that I can’t possibly get enough of.
I haul her hard against me, backing her up until her spine hits the cold metal side of my bike.
The low, lingering vibrations of the engine rattle straight through her body and up into mine, mixing with the heavy thud of our racing pulses.
I want more. I want all of her. I want to map every inch of her soft curves beneath my hands, taste the sweetness between her thighs, and sink so deep inside her that we both shatter.
When Hadley finally pulls back just an inch, gasping heavily to drag air into her lungs, I groan and drop my forehead onto her shoulder.
My hands slide eagerly up and down her sides, gripping her thick thighs, her wide hips, and her soft stomach.
I love every single square inch of her, exactly as she is.
And precisely because I want her this badly, I force myself to stop.
Not like this. Not tonight, when her world has been flipped upside down and she’s running on fumes and sheer adrenaline. She deserves better than a frantic, half-crazed hookup in the dark. She needs safety.
With a gruff, reluctant breath, I slide my arms under her legs and scoop her up effortlessly into my arms.
Hadley lets out a startled gasp, followed by a soft, melodic giggle that shoots a bolt of pure desire straight through my veins. God, that sound gives me life.
"Wolf, what are you—"
"Hush," I mutter, carrying her up the steps and into the cabin. "Tomorrow is going to be a long-ass day for both of us. You need sleep."
She’s practically already falling asleep against my shoulder by the time I carry her down the hall. I deposit her gently onto the bed in the guest room, a space that stays spotless because I never have a reason to step foot in here.
Standing up from the mattress, it’s physically agonizing to walk away from her. Every instinct in my body screams to crawl in beside her and pull her back into my arms. But I force my boots to reverse, backing out of the room and closing the door softly.
We both need the rest. Because tomorrow, the real fight begins.