Chapter Eight
Wolf
T he following day feels different, as if something has shifted inside me. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but the heaviness that usually greets me with the dawn seems a bit lighter. I throw on my leather jacket, the one with the Wild Jesters' emblem stitched boldly on the back and head out to meet the guys for our morning ride.
As I ride through the streets, the wind tears through my hair and against my face, pulling at me like it’s trying to rip away the thoughts swirling in my mind. The ride’s always my time to clear my head, but today, flashes of Janelle's face fill my mind, her soft voice asking me those deep questions last night.
I pull up at the usual spot, where I see the rest of the crew standing around. Tank leaning against his bike, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Blaze fiddling with his bike’s engine, and Spike tossing a lighter back and forth between his hands.
"Morning, Wolf," Tank calls out as I park my bike. "You're looking more broody than usual. Everything all right?"
"Just thinking about some stuff," I reply, shrugging off their curious glances.
Blaze straightening up, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. "Problems on the home front?"
"Not exactly," I quickly assure him, though part of me wonders how much of this is becoming personal. "Just sorting through some thoughts about a case."
Spike tosses the lighter again before catching it and pocketing it. "You know you can talk to us, right? We're not just your brothers in arms; we're here for whatever you need."
I nod appreciatively at Spike's words. Sometimes, I forget how much these guys are willing to stand behind me, even when things get messy beyond the roads we ride on. "Thanks, man. It might come to that, but I'm handling it."
Tank takes a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly. "If it has anything to do with that lady and her kids you've been helping, just know we've got your back, Wolf."
The solidarity is comforting, reassuring even. It reminds me why I choose this life every day and these people as my family. "Appreciate it. I might take up on that soon," I say, thankful for their unwavering support.
We kick off the morning ride, engines roaring as we descend the open road. The freedom of speeding down the highway with nothing but the rumble beneath us felt like a cleanse for my clutter thoughts. We take turns leading, weaving through the lesser-known roads that cut through the landscape.
The ride gives me the space to think. Janelle and her kids have snuck their way into a corner of my mind that I reserve for case files and mission objectives, and I can't shake the feeling that what I feel for them went beyond professional concern.
We pull up to the diner, and we all love the breakfast food they serve here. We go inside, and I slide into the booth across from Tank and Blaze, who are arguing about which breakfast special is the superior choice.
"Man, you can't beat the classic eggs and bacon," Tank insisted, pointing at the laminated menu with a greasy finger. "It's the breakfast of champions."
Blaze snorts, shaking his head. "Please, the pancake stack is where it's at. Carbs are a biker's best friend."
I chuckle at their banter, but my mind is elsewhere. The image of Janelle's tentative smile haunts me, her eyes holding fierce and fragile stories.
Spike slid in next to me, nudging my shoulder. "You're miles away, Wolf. Pancakes or eggs?"
"Uh, pancakes, I guess," I mutter, my gaze drifting outside where the morning sun paints the world in hues of gold and amber.
"So," Spike say, lowering his voice as he leans closer. "You gonna tell us what's eating you up? Or do I have to guess and make it awkward for everyone?"
I sigh, stirring my coffee slowly. "It's Janelle and her kids. They've kind of gotten under my skin. It started as just another job, but now—"
"It's more than that," Spike finishes for me, nodding knowingly.
"Yeah." I glanced up to meet his understanding eyes. "She's been through a lot, and I want to help her more than just professionally. But I'm not sure how to handle this without crossing lines."
Spike nod again, his expression serious. "It's tricky when feelings get involved. But you've got a big heart, Wolf. Just make sure you keep your head in the game, too."
Tank interrupts with a snicker, slapping the table lightly. "Look at Spike, going all Dr. Phil on us!"
Blaze laughs along, but his eyes are kind as they met mine. "We're just saying, be careful, Wolf. We know you care about her. Just make sure it doesn't backfire on you. Plus, before you spill all your secrets on her, is she batting for the same team as the kids say?"
Tank spits his coffee all over the table. “Blaze, seriously, what the fuck!" he sputters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still chuckling. “But seriously, Wolf, you gotta be sure about where things stand before diving too deep.”
"Point taken," I say, grabbing a napkin to help Tank clean up the mess he is making. The laughter around the diner helps lighten the mood, and I let myself enjoy the camaraderie momentarily.
Spike leans back in his seat, sipping his coffee thoughtfully. "All jokes aside, Wolf, we've seen you in action. You're good at what you do, helping people. Just remember, we're here if you need us. Whether it's a ride or someone to talk to."
I hide my face from all of the attention on me but I’m grateful for the reminder that I’m not alone in whatever was coming next. "Thanks, guys. It means a lot."
We spend the rest of breakfast tossing ideas back and forth, from ridiculous plans to genuinely helpful advice about handling sticky situations. When we stand to leave, I feel more determined than ever to carefully and respectfully figure things out with Janelle.
Riding back home, I decide to swing by Janelle's place unannounced. Considering the delicacy of her situation with her ex, it’s risky, but something inside me needs to see her—to make sure she’s all right.
As I walk up to the door, it’s abnormally quiet. “Weird, maybe it’s nap time.” I knock gently, but there is still no answer. Knocking a couple of more time and still nothing, my hands begin to sweat so I take our key and open the door.
The house is eerily silent as I step inside, shutting the door quietly behind me and move deeper into the house, my senses are heightened. As a bounty hunter, I've been in tense situations before, but this was different. This was personal. My boots echoing on the hardwood floor. "Janelle?" I called out softly, not wanting to startle anyone who might be inside. There was no response, only the soft hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen.
The living room is tidy; toys are in their bins and throw blankets are folded neatly on the couch. It looks normal, but something feels off. I head to the kitchen next, noticing a warm coffee mug indicating Janelle hasn’t been gone long. Or worse, that something unexpected had happened. I grip my gun as I take it out of the holster on my side.
"Janelle?" I try again as I pass through the kitchen and approach the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Still no answer. My heart starts racing as I reach Janelle’s bedroom door and hear a low moan. I fear Janelle is in trouble because someone else is in the house.
As I open the door, I see Janelle on the bed, naked, and I hear one word that sends chills down my spine, “Onyx.” My name is on her lips as she climaxes. I freeze, caught completely off guard. My mind scrambles to make sense of the scene before me. For a few seconds, everything seems surreal—the kind of shock that makes the world tilt on its axis. I put my gun away since there’s no need for it now.
Janelle notices me standing there, and her expression instantly shifts from surprise to mortification. She quickly grabs the sheet, pulling it up to cover herself. "Onyx! Oh God, I didn't hear you come in."
I blink, trying my best to regain composure, even as my heart thuds painfully in my chest. "I thought something was wrong," I manage to say, words stumbling out awkwardly.
She sits up straighter, wrapping the sheet more securely around her. "No, I'm sorry if I worried you. I was just taking some time for myself." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, or was it guilt?
I nod slowly, still trying to process everything. "Right. Sorry for intruding."
"No, no," her voice shaky. "It's not your fault. I should have locked the door and maybe not assumed privacy in the middle of the day when the kids are napping."
There’s an awkward silence then—a chasm that seems too vast to cross easily.
"I'll just..." I gesture vaguely toward the door, unsure how to make a graceful exit from something as delicate as this. "I'll see myself out."
As I turn to leave, Janelle's voice stops me. "Onyx, wait. Please."
I pause, hand on the doorknob, not looking back as I attempt to steady my breathing.
"Yes?" The word is a half-whisper, betraying the turmoil inside me.
"I didn't mean for you to find me like this," she says, her voice thick with emotions. "I... I think about you. A lot more than I probably should."
This confession makes my heart skips a beat. Slowly, I turn around to face Janelle, finding her eyes wide and sincere. "Janelle..."
She bites her lip, searching for words. "Please don’t leave us because of what I did here. I never want you to feel uncomfortable here or around me."
Does she not know that I’m a lesbian? Is that why she is hesitant? "Janelle," I start, my voice steadier than I feel. "You need to know something about me. Something important." I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of what I’m about to disclose. "I'm gay, Janelle. I've known since I was a teenager."
Her eyes widen slightly, not shock, but perhaps with a dawning understanding. "Oh," she exhales softly, her fingers nervously twisting the sheet around her. "I didn't know that, and not that would ever change anything if I did know beforehand."
"Yeah," I reply, my shoulders relaxing as the truth hangs between us. It feels freeing, yet it adds a new layer of complexity to our already complicated relationship.
"I'm sorry if this makes things weird now," she continues, her voice laced with worry. "I don't want to lose your friendship or help, Wolf. You've been a big part of why we're even surviving all this mess with my ex."
“Please, when it’s just us, or the kids and us, call me Onyx. But outside, in any other situation, it's Wolf, okay?" I add, trying to keep the boundaries clear but friendly.
Janelle nods, the tension easing from her shoulders a bit. "Of course, Wolf… Onyx. I can do that.” She offers a small, tentative smile. "And thank you for being honest with me."