Chapter Six
Wolf
T he rest of the night passes in a tense vigil. Every slight noise seems to amplify in the darkness, but nothing unusual occurs afterward. As dawn begins to break, painting the sky with streaks of pink and orange, I finally allow myself a moment to relax against the cool metal of my bike.
Janelle texts me early in the morning, and her message is a balm to the night's stress.
JANELLE: Morning Wolf. The kids are up, and everything seems quiet. Thanks again for keeping us safe.
ME Morning, Janelle. Glad to hear all is calm. We'll be around if you need anything.
I pocket my phone and glance at Hatchet, who is just packing his gear. The night is exhausting, and the constant tension wears you down even though it ends without incident.
“Coffee?” I suggest, already knowing the answer. I think Hatchet nod, too tired to muster more than a grunt. We mount our bikes and head toward the local diner that serves as an unofficial checkpoint for the Wild Jester's MC whenever we are on this side of town.
The sun is up when we pull into the diner’s parking lot, casting long shadows on the pavement. The warm glow of the morning sun does little to ease the chill from the night’s vigil though.
Inside, we settle into a booth by the window. The waitress, a middle-aged woman with no-nonsense air about her immediately comes over with a pot of coffee. "Morning, Wolf, Hatchet," she greets us with a nod. "The usual?"
"Yeah, thanks, Deb," I reply, smiling at her familiarly.
She pours the dark brew into our mugs and leaves without further conversation. Silence settles between Hatchet and me as we sip the hot coffee, letting the caffeine slowly chase away the remnants of fatigue.
After a few moments, Hatchet clears his throat. "We should probably update Battle Axe about the ex’s mouthing off," he says, referring to our MC president.
I nod in agreement. "I’ll handle it. He must know it might be more than idle threats this time."
The rest of breakfast passes in comfortable silence, with only the occasional clatter of dishes and murmurs from other early risers filling the space. I recheck my phone for any new updates or messages as we finish. None have come through, which was both a relief and a nerve-racking silence. Standing up, I stretch, feeling the wear of the night's vigil easing somewhat.
"Let's bounce," Hatchet says, tossing back the last of his coffee and sliding out of the booth. We toss a few bills on the table for Deb and head out, the bell over the door jangling loudly in the quiet morning air.
As we walk to our bikes, I can’t help but keep an eye on my surroundings, always alert for any sign of trouble. The sun is higher now, casting golden rays on the chrome of our bikes, making them glint menacingly.
We mount up, engines roaring to life beneath us. As we pull out of the parking lot, I can’t shake off the feeling Janelle’s ex is planning something big. My gut is rarely wrong.
As we ride back toward Janelle’s place, I decide to swing by her house again before I head home. I just want to reassure myself the perimeter is still secure and there are no signs of her ex lurking around.
As we near her house, I notice the usual quiet of the neighborhood was intact. Children playing in their yards, and neighbors went about their morning routines, none the wiser to the undercurrent of tension that had kept me awake all night. I pull up to the curb across from Janelle’s place, my eyes scanning for anything out of place.
Everything seems normal, but my instincts tell me not to let down my guard. I cut the engine and sit there for a moment, watching. That’s when I saw a flicker of movement from the side of the house that didn’t match the rhythm of innocent play or mundane chores.
I nudge Hatchet and nod toward the spot. Without a word, we both dismount quietly, our boots hitting the pavement softly as we move closer to investigate. As we round the corner, I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.
There is a man crouching near one of the windows, and he isn’t anyone from the club. Hatchet moves faster than I’ve seen in a while, his large frame surprisingly swift as he closes the distance between him and the stranger. The man by the window freezes, his eyes widening as Hatchet's shadow falls over him.
"Stand up, slowly!" Hatchet commands, his voice low and menacing. The stranger complies, hands raised slightly to show he isn’t holding a weapon. I keep my hand on my sidearm, not taking any chances.
"Who are you, and what're you doing here?" I ask, stepping forward to stand beside Hatchet. The morning light was harsh on the man's face, revealing a scruffy beard and nervous eyes that dart between us.
"I—uh, I'm just... looking for my dog. He ran off," the man stammers, his voice unconvincing.
"Bullshit," Hatchet growls. "We've been watching this place all night. No dogs running around here except you."
The man's face flushes a deeper shade of panic. He licks his lips, glancing around for an escape route. "Look, I didn't mean any harm. I just—"
"Save it," I cut in sharply. "Who sent you?"
His jaw tightens, and for a brief second, defiance flashed in his eyes, but he quickly looks down, avoiding my gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," he mutters.
"Wrong answer," Hatchet says, stepping closer until he is almost nose-to-nose with the guy. "You're trespassing, and if you don't start talking, I can make sure the cops here take their sweet time deciding what to do with you."
The man swallows hard, looking between Hatchet and me. "Okay, okay," he finally blurts out. "It was Jack. He paid me a few bucks to check and see if she is alone."
I clench my fists, anger boiling up inside of me. Janelle doesn’t deserve this—she has been through enough already. "And what were you supposed to do after checking?" I press, voice low and dangerous.
"Just to report back," he stutters, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I swear that’s all."
Hatchet and I exchange a glance. I watch the man closely, my mind races through the various scenarios this could escalate into. But he seems to deflate under Hatchet's stern gaze, his shoulders slump as the realization of his situation began to sink in.
"Look," I say, my voice deliberate and calm, "you're going to tell us everything you know. Names, places, what he's planning next. The more you give us, the better it'll be for you when the cops show up."
The man nods quickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. "All right, all right," he agrees, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. "I can give you names. Just—please don't hurt me."
Hatchet snorts disdainfully but steps back, allowing me some space to handle it. I dial the local police, keeping my eyes on our uninvited guest. "We’ve got a situation here," I inform the dispatcher succinctly. "Need a unit sent over."
As we wait for the police to arrive, the man spills everything. Janelle’s ex hired him through some shady online forum, promising him cash in exchange for information about her daily routines. His specific instructions are when to check the house and what details to look for.
"He didn’t tell me everything," the man confesses, his voice shaky. "But he’s desperate to get her back—or at least make her life miserable."
The sound of sirens approach, cutting through the tension like a knife. Hatchet and I exchange a look of grim satisfaction. At least we have something to work with now.
As the police cruiser pulls up, I see Eagle and his partner in the car. They exit the car and approach us, “Good morning, Officer Hastings and Officer Ford.” I won’t call Eagle by his road name at work, even though he says it’s a nonissue for him.
"Morning, Wolf. What's the situation here?" Officer Hastings asks, clipboard in hand, and his expression all business.
"We caught this guy snooping around Janelle’s house," I explain, gesturing toward the nervous man who seems even more unnerved by the presence of the cops. "Claims he was just looking for his dog, but we got him to confess her ex sent him."
Officer Ford, a tall woman with a keen eye, kneels to his level, her voice stern yet controlled. "You understand you're in a lot of trouble here, right? We need full cooperation."
The man nods vigorously. "I told them everything I know," he repeats his story, pointing at Hatchet and me. "I swear."
"Good. That'll help your case," Ford replies before standing and turning to Officer Hastings. "We need to take him in for questioning, get all the details down officially."
Hastings motions for the man to stand and head toward the cruiser. "Let's go. You can tell us more at the station."
I watch as they handcuff him and lead him away, a part of me is relieved that we intercepted something potentially dangerous. Another part of me is furious that Janelle’s peace is once again disturbed by her relentless ex. I can feel Hatchet’s gaze on me, his brow furrowed in concern.
“You okay, Wolf?” he asks once the police have driven off with their suspect.
I shake my head, trying to dispel the anger bubbling inside me. “Not really. This is far from over, isn’t it?”
Hatchet claps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing firmly. “We’ll handle it, just like we always do. We’re not letting anything happen to Janelle or her kids.”
I nod, grateful for his unwavering support. “Thanks, man. Let’s head back to the clubhouse and plan our next move. We need to tighten security around Janelle’s place and maybe keep a closer watch ourselves.”
As we ride back, the roar of our bikes slicing through the cool morning air, my mind races with all the possibilities. What if Janelle’s ex tries something more drastic? The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
After returning to the clubhouse, I text Battle Axe and request an urgent club meeting today if possible. I need to discuss the latest developments in Janelle's case and the new information that has surfaced.
The rest of the morning passes in a blur, and before I know it, the guys are all coming in and heading into Church. Battle Axe is at the head of the table as they sit around it, his large hands splayed out on the worn wood, commanding attention without saying a word.
"All right," Battle Axe starts, his voice firm, drawing everyone’s attention. "Wolf’s got something. Let’s hear it."
I nod and stand up. “Thanks, Battle. We caught a guy this morning at Janelle’s house. He snooped around, and Janelle’s ex hired him to gather intel on her routines. He’s with the police now, but this means her ex is escalating things.”
The room falls silent, every member of The Wild Jester’s MC turning their full attention toward me. You can feel the tension prickling like electricity in the air.
"Her ex is pushing boundaries, trying to claw his way back into her life by any means necessary," I continue, pacing a small circle in front of the table. "We need to step up. I'm talking about surveillance rotations, increase the presence around her house — anything and everything we can do to ensure Janelle and her kids feel safe."
Rumble, one of our newest members, leaning against the back wall, crosses his arms and nod. "You think he's gonna try something more physical next time?" he asks, his voice rough like gravel.
"It's a possibility we can't ignore," I reply seriously. "The guy today was just there to get information for the ex-husband. Who knows what he'll resort to if we spook him enough?"
There are murmurs of agreement around the table; the club is no stranger to dealing with threats, but this is personal. Janelle isn’t just another case; she has become something more to me.
Needles, who hasn't said much, finally speaks up from his corner. "Let's install some extra cams around her place, and maybe a couple of us can do random drive-bys throughout the day and night."
"I like that," I agree, nodding toward Needles. "Visibility might deter her ex or any of his cronies from coming around."
"Plus, we keep close tabs on any vehicles that don’t belong in the area," Hatchet adds. "Note license plates, make models—anything out of the ordinary."
I could see Battle Axe processing everything, his brain ticking behind those observant eyes. "Wolf set it up. Coordinate with Hatchet on the logistics. I want updates every morning unless something urgent comes up."
"Will do, Pres," I respond firmly, feeling a weight settle on my shoulders and fierce protective determination coursing through my veins. "We won’t let Janelle and her kids down."
The meeting ends with a series of nods and gruff agreements, the club members dispersing with a renewed sense of purpose. I hang back momentarily, thoughts swirling around Janelle's safety and the grim possibilities that her ex might concoct next.
As I’m about to leave, Battle Axe caught my arm. "Wolf," he says in a low tone, "you’re doing good. Keep your head sharp and your heart guarded."
I nod, unsure where his advice came from, but my heart doesn’t entirely agree. The truth is guarding my heart around Janelle is becoming increasingly difficult. Something about her resilience, the way she smiles even after everything she's been through, has me feeling in ways that I haven't expected. But feelings have to take a back seat. I know that. Getting too close can interfere with my judgment, and right now, Janelle needs protection, not complications.
I leave the clubhouse with those lingering words echoing in my mind, but the next step is to check in with Janelle. It isn’t just about updating her on the security situation; I also need to ensure she’s holding up all right.
I pull up to her place, cutting the engine and striding to the front door. The sound of laughter from her kids playing filter through the door as I knock. Janelle answers, her smile faltering slightly when she sees it’s me, not because she isn’t happy to see me but because my presence often means trouble.
"Hey, Wolf," she greets, stepping aside to let me in. "Everything okay?"
I follow her into the kitchen, where she pours two cups of coffee. The rich aroma fills the small space, mingling with the scent of something sweet baking in the oven. "We've got a bit of a situation," I start, accepting the mug she offers me.
Her brows knit together with concern. "What happened?"
I explain everything, from the snooper we caught this morning to our increasing our surveillance and protection plans. I watch her absorb the information, her fingers tightening around the mug. “We’re taking every precaution," I assure her. "You and the kids are our top priority."
Janelle nods, a slight tremor in her voice as she spoke. "Thank you, Wolf. Knowing you’re all looking out for us."
The room hums tensely as she sips her coffee, looking into the living room where her kids were playing. The sight seems to steel her resolve.
"I just want this to be over," she confesses, glancing back at me with weary eyes. "I want to stop looking over my shoulder. I mean, hell, I want to stop being in hiding."
I place my cup down on the counter next to me as I mirror her posture. "We’re working on it, Janelle. We’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen."
Her gaze holds mine, searching for reassurance in my eyes, a reassurance I’m determined to provide through words and action. "I know," she says softly, breaking eye contact to look back into the living room. "It’s just hard sometimes. But having you here helps... more than you might realize."
There’s a hint of something more profound in her words. It’s hard to tell, and I ignore the warmth that spreads through me in response.
"I'll be around, Janelle. Anytime you need me," I tell her, my voice low and earnest. "You're not in this alone."
She nods, her expression softening. "I believe you," she replies, and there’s a weight to her words that suggests they are more than just a polite response.
As I push off the counter to leave, Janelle walks me to the door. Her hand brushes against mine briefly as she hands me my helmet. The touch is electric and fleeting but charges with an unspoken connection.
"Stay safe out there," she smiles, concern lacing her tone.
"I will. You do the same," I reply, securing my helmet. I pause, looking back at her from the doorstep. "And remember, call me, day or night, if anything feels off. There will also be guys doing rotation day and night, so try not to worry."
Her nod is firm, a small smile touching her lips. "I will, Wolf. Thank you."
With that, I climb onto my bike, the engine roaring beneath me. As I pull away from Janelle’s house, I can't shake the feeling that everything will change. Not just for Janelle and her kids but for me, too.