Chapter Sixteen
Wolf
L uckily, Tank didn't suffer any major injuries, so we can begin the process of getting Janelle and the kids back home. The idea of them being far away from me makes me feel physically ill.
I know that they need to start their new life not under the fear of Jack showing up, but I want to be in their life. As I help Janelle buckle Chloe into her car seat, the thought hit me like a punch to the gut. What would their life look like without me hovering nearby? Would they be safe? Would Janelle still laugh like she did earlier, that soft sound that felt like sunlight breaking through the clouds?
"You're awfully quiet, Wolf," Janelle said as she leans against the car door, watching me fuss over the straps. "Everything okay?"
I straighten up quickly, brushing my hands off on my jeans. "Yeah, just...thinking."
"About?"
I glance at her, noting the way her brows furrow slightly in concern. She was beautiful when she wasn’t worrying about her safety every second of the day. "Just logistics," I lied smoothly. "Making sure everything's in place for you guys to settle in."
Her lips twitch upward in a knowing smirk. She didn't buy it for a second. "Wolf, you've been nothing but honest with me since the day we met. Don’t start lying to me now.” Her voice is soft but firm, like she was giving me an out while also daring me to take it.
I rub the back of my neck and sigh. "All right, fine. I was just wondering… what happens when you don’t need me anymore?"
Her expression softens, and for a moment, I saw something in her eyes that looked like hope. She steps closer, her hand brushing against mine as she took Chloe’s backpack from the car seat and set it on the floorboard. "Wolf, you’ve done more for me and my kids than anyone ever has. But needing someone and wanting them around are two different things."
I blink at her, caught off guard by the honesty in her words. "What are you saying?"
"I’m saying," she began, her voice steady but filled with emotion, "that just because I’m starting over doesn’t mean there isn't room for you in that new beginning. You don’t have to hover, Wolf. But you don’t have to disappear either."
My throat feels tight, and I swallow hard to process her words. Before I could say anything, Chloe chimes in from her car seat, her little voice cutting through the moment like a ray of sunshine. "Wolf’s coming with us, right? She's not going anywhere!"
Janelle turns and gives Chloe a soft smile. "Wolf has her own life too, sweetie."
"But I like her in our life," Chloe pouts, crossing her tiny arms.
"Well," I say, crouching down to look Chloe in the eyes, "I like being in your life too, kiddo."
Chloe beams at me like I'd just promised her a lifetime supply of candy. "So you're staying?"
"I… we'll see," I say cautiously. It wasn’t a promise I could make lightly.
Janelle clears her throat, drawing my attention back to her. Her eyes lock with mine, and it feels like the world had gone quiet for a moment. "Wolf," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don’t have to decide right now. But just know… we want you around. Not because we need a protector, but because we—because I—want you here."
I feel my chest tighten again, but it wasn’t from worry or fear this time. It was hope, pure and warm and terrifying all at once. I nod slowly, unable to form words just yet.
"Okay!" Abel interrupts loudly, breaking the tension as only a twelve-year-old could. "If Wolf’s coming with us, can she help me build my Lego city? 'Cause Dillon keeps messing it up."
"I do not!" Dillon shouts defensively from the other side of the car.
"Do too!" Abel shot back.
"Do not!"
"You literally stomped on it yesterday, Dillon!" Abel accuses, glaring at his younger brother with all the fury a twelve-year-old could muster.
"It was an accident!" Dillon whine, his face scrunching up in frustration. "I tripped!"
"Tripped my butt," Abel mutter under his breath, crossing his arms like a mini adult.
Janelle sighs and pinch the bridge of her nose, though I could see the faintest hint of a smirk on her lips. "Boys, enough. If Wolf agrees to help, it's going to be under the condition that there are no fights. Got it?"
Both boys eye each other warily before mumbling reluctant "Got its" under their breath. Chloe claps her hands together as if she'd just won a prize. "Yay! Wolf’s gonna stay!"
I stand and lean against the car, looking over at Janelle with a helpless shrug. "Guess I don’t really have much of a choice here, huh?”
Just then Chloe and all her innocent wonder asks, “What will Wolf be to us?”
Janelle pauses, her cheeks flushing a light pink as she glances at me, clearly caught off guard by her daughter’s question. "Well, um…" she starts, fumbling for words.
"Obviously, I’ll be a part of the Lego construction crew," I said quickly, trying to deflect and ease the sudden tension in the air. I shoot Chloe a playful wink. "You need an expert builder if you’re gonna make a city that can survive Dillon’s...accidents."
Chloe giggles, but her big blue eyes—so much like her mom’s—were still fixed on me with curious intensity. "Noooo, I mean like… is she family?"
Janelle lets out a soft laugh that was half-nervous and half-endearing. "Chloe, honey, Wolf is…" She trailed off again, looking at me like she was silently asking for backup.
I could feel my heart thudding in my chest. Family. That word carries weight. I wasn’t sure I was ready to bear but looking at Chloe’s hopeful face and Janelle’s uncertain smile, I knew the answer mattered. Not just to the kids, but to Janelle too.
Before I can get another work out, Chloe shocked us all, “Is she like how you and Dad were? Because I saw you kissing in the hallway.”
The world froze. Janelle's face turned beet red, her eyes wide as saucers, while I choke on air. Abel and Dillon's heads whip around so fast I was surprised they didn’t sprain something.
"You kissed Wolf?!" Abel exclaims, his voice a mix of horror and fascination, like he’d just witnessed the greatest plot twist in his young life. "When? Where? Why didn’t I see it?"
"Yeah!" Dillon chimed in, now completely invested. "Is Wolf your girlfriend?!"
Janelle looks like she wants the ground to swallow her whole. "Kids, that's not—"
"Wait a second," I interrupt, trying—and failing—to stifle a laugh at Janelle’s mortified expression. "Let’s rewind here for a minute. Chloe, you ‘saw' us kissing?"
Chloe nods enthusiastically, her pigtails bouncing. "Uh-huh! In the hallway when you thought nobody was looking!"
I rub the back of my neck, trying to figure out how to navigate this minefield without making things worse. "Well, uh, that’s…news to me," I said, glancing at Janelle, who was now covering her face with both hands.
"Mom kissed Wolf!" Abel declares like he’d just announced the winning touchdown at the Super Bowl. "This is so weird!"
"It’s not weird," Dillon argues, though his nose scrunches up like he wasn’t sure he believed himself. "It’s kinda cool. Like…action movie cool."
"Action movie?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. That was a new one.
"Yeah!" Dillon grins. "You’re like the secret agent who saves Mom, and then you guys fall in love and fight bad guys together."
Janelle peeks through her fingers, her voice muffles as she groans, "Can we not turn my personal life into an action movie plot?"
"But it is like an action movie!" Dillon insists, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Wolf’s a bounty hunter, right? That’s, like, one step away from being a superhero!"
"Pretty sure superheroes don’t get paid to bring in people who skipped bail," I mutter, shooting Janelle a look of pure amusement. Her cheeks were still bright red, and she looks like she’s debating whether to laugh or crawl under the car.
"Okay, okay," Janelle said finally, surrendering her hands. "Enough about me and Wolf. We’ve got groceries to put away, remember?"
"But you didn’t answer my question!" Chloe pipes up again, her voice almost singsong in its persistence. "Is Wolf your girlfriend?"
Janelle turns to her daughter with a look that screamed "help me," but I decide to jump in before she could say anything.
"Chloe," I say gently, crouching down so we are eye level again, "sometimes adults need a little bit of time to figure things out. Your mom and I are still working on what this is, okay?" I shoot her a soft smile, hoping she’ll accept my answer and let Janelle off the hook for now.
Chloe tilts her head, clearly pondering my words like a pint-sized philosopher. Finally, she nods solemnly. "Okay. But if you’re her girlfriend, you have to promise not to make her cry like Daddy did."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Janelle freezes beside me, her eyes wide and glassy. For a second, no one said anything—just the sound of a car passing by in the distance and the faint chirping of birds in the trees.
"I…" I swallow hard, glancing up at Janelle. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her hand resting protectively on Chloe’s shoulder. I turn back to Chloe, steeling myself. "I promise, Chloe. I promise I would never do anything to hurt your mom. Ever," I say, my voice is steady despite the lump forming in my throat.
Chloe studies me for a moment, her little face serious and way too wise for a five-year-old. Then she gives a big toothy smile and nodding, as if granting me her approval. "Okay. You can be her girlfriend then."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Abel interrupts, raising his hands like a referee calling a foul. "You don't get to decide that, Chloe! That's not how it works!"
"Yeah," Dillon agrees, though he seems less certain. "Don’t they have to like… go on dates first or something?"
Janelle groans again and leans against the car, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "kill me now." I can't help but laugh at the absolute chaos unfolding around us.
"All right, all right, time out," I say, holding up my hands like I was trying to calm a group of unruly bikers at the clubhouse. "First of all, I think we’re jumping the gun here. Second, your mom and I are grown-ups, meaning we get to figure this out on our own time."
"But you ‘like’ her, right?" Chloe asks, undeterred, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Chloe!" Janelle’s voice is sharp but tinged with embarrassment as she shifted uncomfortably.
I glance at Janelle, who looked like she was about two seconds away from sprinting to the nearest hiding spot. Deciding to throw her a lifeline, I lean closer to Chloe and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, "Your mom makes the best pancakes I've ever had. Of course, I like her."
Dillon snorts a laugh while Abel looks unsure if he should be grossed out or impressed. Chloe, however, beams like I’d just told her she was getting a pony.
"Pancakes are important," she declares with all the authority of a five-year-old who knew her priorities. "That means you like like her."
"Chloe," Janelle groans again, her face buried in her hands. "You’re not helping."
"But it’s true!" Chloe insists before spinning on her heel to face her brothers. "Abel, Dillon, it’s official! Wolf is Mom’s girlfriend because she likes her pancakes!"
Abel crosses his arms, clearly skeptical. "That’s the dumbest reason ever. Liking pancakes doesn’t mean you’re dating someone."
"Yeah," Dillon agrees, nodding seriously. "They probably have to kiss again or something for it to count."
Chloe tilts her head, considering my words with all the seriousness a five-year-old can muster. "So... you're family?"
I glance at Janelle again, who was watching me with equal parts warm and cautious expression. Janelle’s arms cross over her chest, but she wasn’t looking away this time. She was waiting for my answer too.
"Yeah," I say softly, gently tapping Chloe’s nose. "I think I am."
Chloe squeals in delight as she kicked her legs in her seat.
I can't help but notice how effortlessly kids seem to accept things, while adults are always more difficult to handle. I glance at Janelle and then at the children, and I can't help but wonder what I did to deserve such peace and joy.
The moment of serenity is short-lived, of course. Abel decided to remind us all why preteens are top-tier chaos agents.
"Okay, but if Wolf’s part of the family now," he says, leaning casually against the car like some kind of twelve-year-old philosopher-king, "does that mean she has to come to all our boring family stuff? Like Aunt Linda's weird cookouts where she makes those gross tuna Jell-O things?"
I blink. "Tuna Jell-O?"
Janelle cringe, rubbing her temples. "Don’t ask. Just... don’t."
"But it’s true!" Abel presses on, clearly enjoying his role as instigator. "If Wolf’s dating Mom, she has to deal with Aunt Linda’s tuna Jell-O and Grandpa’s conspiracy theories about pigeons being government spies."
"Pigeons aren’t real!" Dillon chimes in enthusiastically. "They’re drones! Grandpa said so!"
"Right," I say, dragging the word out as I reach up to scratch the back of my neck. "Well, if pigeons are drones, I guess that explains why they always look so suspicious."
Dillon's eyes lit up like I had just confirmed the biggest secret of his young life. "Exactly!"
Janelle groans again, this time louder, and leans heavily against the car like she was physically holding herself together. "Can we please stop talking about tuna Jell-O and robot pigeons?"
"But it’s important!" Dillon protests, his nine-year-old voice full of conviction. "Wolf has to know what she’s getting into if she’s gonna be part of the family."
"Yeah," Abel adds, nodding sagely. "Family is a package deal. You can’t just pick Mom and skip the rest of us."
I smirk at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Oh, don’t worry, kid, because you also get mine with your family.” Looking at each of the kids with a smirk, “You will get a bunch of new uncles that will protect you with their lives.”
Abel raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but trying to play it cool. "Uncles? Like biker uncles? The kind who wear leather and have tattoos?"
"Yep," I pop the 'p' for emphasis. "The whole Wild Jester MC crew. They’d probably spoil you rotten and teach you how to ride a dirt bike before you even hit high school."
Dillon’s jaw drop, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "No way! Dirt bikes? That’s so cool!"
"Don’t encourage them," Janelle mutters under her breath, though a tiny smile tugs at the corners of her lips.
"But Mom!" Dillon whines, turning to her with wide, pleading eyes. "Can I get a dirt bike if Wolf’s in the family? Pleeease?"
"Absolutely not," Janelle’s tone leaving zero room for negotiation.
Abel smirks at me, arms still crossed like he was some kind of pint-sized negotiator. "Guess we’ll have to see how serious you are about this whole 'family' thing, huh, Wolf?"
I laugh, shaking my head at the challenge in his tone. "Oh, don’t worry, Abel. I’m plenty serious. But I’m also not stupid enough to cross your mom when it comes to dirt bikes." I shoot Janelle a wink, which earns me an exasperated eyeroll.
Chloe tugs on my sleeve again, her small voice cutting through the chaos. "Wolf, if you're family... does that mean you’ll come to Christmas?"
The question hit like a sucker punch to the chest—not because it scared me but because of the pure hope in her voice. I glance at Janelle, who looks startled by the question herself. Her eyes search mine, uncertainty flickering there.
"Well," I said carefully, crouching down again so I was eye level with Chloe. "If I am family and I want to be a part of everything that family does, which would include holidays, right?” I look over to Janelle for approval.
Janelle stands there, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Her eyes flick between me and Chloe, and for a moment, I think she might tell me I was getting ahead of myself. But then she sighs softly and gave a small nod with a wide smile, her form of a silent permission.
Chloe’s face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. "Yes! You have to come! We make cookies and hot chocolate and watch movies all day!"
"And," Dillon adds with the seriousness that only a nine-year-old could muster, "we build the best snow fort in the neighborhood. Wolf, you can be on my team."
"Hey!" Abel objected, glaring at his younger brother. "You don’t get to claim her just like that. Maybe she wants to be on my team."
I hold up my hands, laughing. Before I could get anything out Chloe pipes up again. “Does this mean you will live with us too?”
The question hung in the air like a live grenade, and I swear I saw Janelle flinch. Her eyes widen and look like she wants to crawl under the nearest rock. I catch her gaze, trying to silently let her know I wasn’t going to overstep.
"Whoa, whoa," I say, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Living together is like... level ten on the family scale. We’re still working on level two: pancakes and Christmas."
Chloe frowns, clearly unimpressed with my answer. "But if you're family, you should live here! Families live together."
Janelle takes a deep breath, stepping forward before this conversation can spiral completely out of control. "Chloe, honey," she’s gentle but firm, "Wolf has her own home. And we’re not talking about anyone moving in right now."
Chloe frowns thoughtfully, tapping her chin like she was seriously considering my answer. "Okay," nodding like some tiny CEO making an executive decision. "Maybe not right now, but if you live with us, can you bring your bike?"
I laugh, shaking my head. "Deal."
Chloe grins triumphantly, as if she’d just won the most important negotiation of her life. "Okay, but you have to let me ride it sometimes."
"That’s a hard no," Janelle cuts in, her mom voice on full display. "You’re not even tall enough to reach the pedals."
"Mom!" Chloe whines, stomping her foot. "I’ll grow!"
"Not fast enough," Janelle retorts, her lips twitching with suppressed amusement.
Abel smirks at his sister, clearly enjoying her defeat. "Guess you’ll just have to wait until you’re old enough to get your own bike."
"I’m gonna get a pink one with sparkles," Chloe declares, undeterred. "And it’ll be faster than yours, Abel!"
"Dream on," Abel shot back before turning his attention back to me. "So, Wolf, if you’re gonna hang around for Christmas and bring all these biker uncles…”
*****
It’s been a couple of weeks since Janelle and the kids practically adopted me into the family. Things have been running so smoothly and to be honest I have been here more nights then at the clubhouse.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, trying to make sense of Janelle's scribbled notes on the grocery list. "Green things for salad" and "that one cereal Abel likes but I don't remember the name" were my marching orders. The kids are in the living room, their laughter echoing through the small house as they argued over which movie to watch. It was chaos, but it was the kind of chaos that felt… right.
Janelle bustles into the room, her hair pulled up in a messy bun and an oversized sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder. She looks tired but relaxed in a way I haven’t seen before. It’s nice—seeing her like this. Like she was finally catching her breath.
"So," she leans against the counter and crossing her arms. "You’ve officially spent more nights here than at your own place this month. Should I start charging you rent?"
I smirk, leaning back in my chair. "Depends," I cross my arms to mirror her stance. "What’s the rent? Pancakes on Sundays and putting up with Abel’s interrogation sessions?"
Janelle chuckles, shaking her head. "That might cover it. But you’d also have to throw in 'fixing whatever Chloe breaks' and 'keeping Dillon out of the cookie jar before dinner.'"
"Sounds like a steep price," I tease, tapping the pen against the notepad. "But I think I can manage."
She rolls her eyes but smiles. That smile makes my chest feel a little lighter every time I saw it. "You’re ridiculous," she said, grabbing the kettle to fill it with water.
"Ridiculously helpful, you mean," I quip, holding up the grocery list like it was Exhibit A. "Who else would decipher this masterpiece of cryptic instructions?" I pointed to one particularly confusing note. "'Not too spicy but not boring'? What am I supposed to do with that? Hunt down the world’s most balanced salsa?"
Janelle laughs, the sound warm and easy. "It means get something everyone can eat without complaining," she says, setting the kettle on the stove. "Which, considering this house, is basically an impossible task."
"Ah, so you’re setting me up for failure. Got it," I reply, scribbling a dramatic question mark next to the note on the list.
She shakes her head, leaning against the counter again as she watched me. "You know, you don’t have to do this," she said softly. "The grocery runs, the helping out with the kids… all of it. You’ve already done so much for us."
I look up at her, my pen stilling on the page. The way she’s looking at me—it wasn’t pity or gratitude. It was something deeper. Something warmer. "I want to," I said simply. "This isn’t just about helping out or doing my job. I care about you, Janelle. About the kids. This feels… right. Like where I’m supposed to be."
She blinks, and for a moment, I think I’ve overstepped. But then she smiles, soft and a little shy, and it was like the whole room got warmer. "You’re really something, Onyx," she murmurs, shaking her head like she can’t quite believe it.
"Something good, I hope," I say lightly, trying to ease the sudden tension in the air.
Janelle’s eyes soften, and for a moment, there was just the quiet hum of the kettle heating up and the distant sound of the kids arguing about whether they should watch “Frozen” or “Star Wars”. She opens her mouth to say something, but Dillon burst into the kitchen like a hurricane before she could.
"Mom! Abel’s being a buttface again!" he announces loudly, his hands on his hips like a pint-sized lawyer ready to present his case.
Janelle sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What now?"
"He said if we watch ‘Frozen’ , my brain will freeze and I’ll turn into Olaf forever," Dillon huffs, glaring over his shoulder as if Abel were standing right there.
"Olaf’s pretty cool," I interject, trying to hide my grin. "Pun intended."
Dillon looks at me with wide eyes. "But what if he’s right? What if I really do turn into Olaf? I don’t wanna melt in the summer!"
Janelle groans, muttering something under her breath about needing an extra coffee just to manage the chaos. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table as I gave Dillon a serious look.
"Listen, buddy," I lower my voice like I was sharing some top-secret biker wisdom. "I’ve seen ‘Frozen’ probably a hundred times—don’t ask why—and not once has anyone turned into Olaf. You’re safe."
Dillon squint at me, clearly skeptical but wanting to believe me. "You promise?"
"Cross my heart," I draw an invisible X over my chest. "And you know what? If Abel keeps being a buttface, we can always make him watch it on repeat until he learns all the songs."
Janelle snorts into her hand, trying to stifle her laughter as Dillon’s eyes lit up with delight. "Yeah! We’ll make him sing 'Let It Go' in front of everyone!" he declares, already plotting Abel’s doom.
"Sounds like a plan," I say, winking at him.
"Thanks, Wolf!" Dillon beams before dashing back into the living room, yelling something about his new plan to his siblings.
Janelle shook her head, clearly torn between exasperation and amusement. "You’re such a bad influence," she smiles, her tone teasing as she grabbed two mugs from the cabinet.
"Hey," I said, my voice equally soft. "That’s what partners in crime are for."
Her cheeks flushed a light pink, and she busied herself pouring water into the mugs. "Partners in crime, huh?" her voice quieter now.
"That’s right," I reply, leaning back in my chair with a grin. "You, me, and the cookie heist crew out there. We’re unstoppable."
Janelle laughs softly, shaking her head. But she didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, she stood there for a moment longer than necessary, her hands resting on the counter's edge. I could see her shoulders rise and fall as she took a deep breath before finally turning to face me again, holding one of the mugs out.
"For your trouble," she said with a small smile.
I take the mug from her, our fingers brushing briefly. It was nothing—just an accident of proximity—but it still sent a little jolt through me. I didn’t imagine how her eyes flicked up to meet mine, either. “So I was wondering how you felt about getting a babysitter this weekend and letting me take you out on a real date?”
Her fingers tighten slightly on the mug she was still holding, her eyes widening just a fraction. I thought she might say no for a second—that I’d misread everything and put my foot in it big time. But then her lips curved into the softest smile, making my chest feel like it might burst.
"A real date, huh?" her voice teasing but warm.
"Yeah," I reply, trying to keep it casual even though my heart was beating loud enough to drown out the kettle's hum. "You know, the kind where you don’t have to yell at anyone for trying to stick crayons up their nose or negotiate TV treaties."
She let out a quiet laugh and shakes her head. "You make it sound so glamorous."
I shrug, sipping the tea she’d handed me before replying. "Well, I can’t guarantee it’ll be fancy. But I can promise good company, decent food, and maybe even a chance to relax for a whole evening. What do you say?"
Janelle tilts her head, considering me with that same soft smile. "You drive a hard bargain, Onyx."
"That’s my specialty," I say. With a smile, I rise from my seat and make my way over to her. She sets her cup down as I hug her, kissing her lips.
Before I could give her another kiss, Abel’s voice rings out from the living room. "Dillon’s trying to make me sing ‘Let It Go!’ MOM!"
Janelle groans, sinking against the counter and pressing her palms to her face. "This is our life now," she mutters.
I chuckle, setting my mug down and standing. "Want me to handle it? I’m pretty good at mediating disputes. Former Army and all that."
She peeks at me through her fingers, one eyebrow raised. "You’re seriously volunteering to step into that chaos?"
I roll up the sleeves of my flannel like I was heading into battle. "Absolutely. I’ve faced worse. Trust me, a Frozen-versus-Star Wars feud is nothing compared to wrangling a platoon of disgruntled soldiers." I kiss her.
Janelle chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief. "All right, Wolf. You’re on. But don’t say I didn’t warn you."
I salute her and stride toward the living room, where the three kids are mid-battle. This is my life, and I embrace it.