Chapter 15 #2
“Come on,” I said. “There’s something at the pack house you need to see.”
Her first reaction was suspicion. Her second was to grab Rocket from his donut-bed and tuck him under her arm like a talisman. I didn’t say anything about it. She wore armor where she could.
The drive out to the compound was silent except for the panting of the dog and the squeak of the truck’s shocks. Parker stared out the window the entire time, watching the landscape for threats that weren’t there. The sky was a featureless stretch of gray; the air so dry it left dust on your teeth.
As soon as we hit the pack road, I could smell the difference. The air here was full of life: wood smoke, baking bread, the clean metallic bite of wolf. This was home, even if I spent most of my time outside its walls anymore.
There were five cars in front of the clubhouse, all parked at awkward angles, as if the women who’d driven them couldn’t be bothered with lines or order.
Inside, it was chaos—laughter, shouted insults, the slap of cards on a table.
Kids ran up and down the hallway, cute little wolf cubs.
It was a scene I’d grown up inside, but now I watched it from the threshold, just another shadow among a hundred moving parts.
Maddie and Juliet were there, along with three other pack women. When we walked in, Rocket barked once and made a beeline for the only other dog in the room—a beefy hound with paws bigger than Parker’s hands. The women barely glanced up, but I felt their attention skate across us like radar.
Parker hung back, all nerves. I watched her count the exits, map the room, read every face in a second. Everybody knew her, knew her story.
Juliet came over first, arms folded, mouth curled into a smirk. “Look who decided to crawl out from behind his monitors.” She looked me up and down, then glanced at Parker, her gaze softening. “Hey, Parker.”
Parker gave a typical practiced smile. “Hi, Juliet.”
Maddie waved from the kitchen. “There’s food.
You look like you haven’t eaten in a week.
” She called out over her shoulder, “Arsenal’s on his way back from Amarillo—he said to save him the big cinnamon roll.
Hey girl! It’s been a damn month of Sundays since you’ve been around.
It’s good to see you.” Bronc’s younger sister Maddie was all personality.
You never knew what was going to come out of her mouth.
Your best bet was just to buckle up and hang on.
“Hi Mads. Good to see you too.”
Juliet herded us toward the table, which was covered in craft supplies and a tangle of wrapping paper. “Toy run’s in a few days,” she explained. “We’re trying to get toys gathered. Pearl’s been wearing us out to get these toys wrapped like something she saw on TikTok.”
Parker scanned the table, the neat rows of books and puzzles and small plush animals. “Y’all still delivering the presents to the same places?”
Juliet shrugged. “Pretty much. Most go to the children’s hospital, some to the foster home, and the rest to the church out on County 9.
They handle the rest of the disbursement to needy families.
This is just a tiny fraction. Most of the toys, especially the bigger ones, are down in the basement.
But I think we’re about out of room down there.
We’re considering moving the operation to the Dairyville Civic Center so we can really spread out. ”
Parker smiled. She twisted a piece of ribbon in her hands until it snapped.
I let the conversation drift, watching her from across the room.
She tried to fold into the background, but Maddie kept pulling her back in, asking for help with scissors or tape, or asking her opinion on which toy was “least likely to traumatize a second grader.” It was clear, after ten minutes, that none of them had a clue about what Parker had been involved in, or what she’d endured.
To them, she was just a pack member who’d been gone for a while. Another wolf, awkward about being back.
For the first time in days, her shoulders unclenched. She even laughed—a weird little cackle, but laughter all the same. Rocket, meanwhile, got into a wrestling match with the hound, and for once, lost.
Juliet brought me a coffee and leaned on the counter beside me. “She’s doing okay,” she said. “Better than I thought.”
I looked over at Parker. She was showing Maddie how to tie a ribbon without the knot coming undone. Her hands were steady; her face flushed with the heat from the stove.
“She’s tougher than she looks,” I said.
Juliet nodded. “So are you. You gonna tell her?”
I sipped the coffee. “Tell her what?”
“That you want to mark her. That you’re thinking about forever, not just right now.”
I shrugged. “I actually told her that the other day. Told her we needed to wait. She thought it was because I didn’t trust her.”
Juliet snorted. “You’re the scariest bastard in four counties, and she didn’t run. She’s not going anywhere. She understands. That’s pretty damn brave, if you ask me.”
“It’s different,” I said. “I meant it when I said it. I know she’s my mate. She’s mine.”
Juliet smiled, but it was sad. “Well, sometimes you have to reach out and take what’s yours before it slips away.”
She left me with that, and I watched Parker for a long minute, studying the way she moved, the way she fit into the chaos of my life. It didn’t matter what had happened before, or what was coming next. She belonged here. Always had.
I left her working with the ladies while I gathered with the guys in the conference room.
As always, Bronc sat at the head, blue eyes sharp enough to slice, his elbows planted wide and steady.
Arsenal was already there, the first as always, his knuckles white against the wood and the whites of his eyes catching every movement.
Pearl hovered in the doorway, mostly for the excuse to eavesdrop, though everyone knew her word carried farther than most of ours.
Gunner, Doc, and Papa all sat in their usual places around the table.
I took the seat Bronc motioned me toward. My hands were steady on the tabletop. I’d practiced the speech a dozen times in my head.
“Update,” Bronc said.
I started with the facts. “Parker made the drop. All cams and mics planted, Trojan installed. We’re getting continuous feeds except from Silas’s war room. He keeps the door locked, rotates his muscle for every meeting.”
“Any heat?” Arsenal asked, his voice flat but his foot bouncing under the table.
I hesitated for a second, then told them everything: “Silas grabbed her by the throat. Didn’t just threaten. He wanted to prove he owned the leash.” I left the details raw—how Parker’s voice had gone hoarse, how the bruises looked worse each morning.
Arsenal’s reaction was immediate. His hand closed on his coffee cup so hard the styrofoam caved. “Motherfucker.”
Pearl gave a low, dangerous hum.
Bronc didn’t move. “Was she able to keep her cover?”
“She sold it,” I said. “He thinks the funds are already in motion. He wants her to trigger phase two tomorrow morning. We’re ready to push the false ledger anytime.”
“Damage on our end?” Gunner asked from his side of the table.
“None,” I said. “Our accounts are dead-end mirrors. If anything, we’re about to learn who else he’s working with, and who he plans to cut out of the next buy.”
Arsenal hadn’t looked up. His jaw was set, his eyes like gun barrels. “You want me to take care of Silas?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. He needs to keep that sense of invulnerability. Parker’s the only thing that keeps him off guard.”
“She’s not bait,” Arsenal said, not to me, but to himself. “She’s family. That’s how we treat our own.”
The shift was subtle but seismic. Three days ago, Arsenal would have gutted Parker for the offense of breathing too loud in the same room as club business. Now he was ready to burn down the world for her.
Bronc gave him a look—a nod, slight and approving. “We’ll get one shot at this. Doc, you got your end handled?”
Our resident doctor grinned. “Greenbriar’s got eyes in a lot of places, but they can’t see past their own egos.
We’ll keep our perimeters covered. One of our cleaning service people was approached.
They came to me. We know they want in. We just need to let them get to what they think is the bottom of our accounts, and then we’ll strike.
Maybe reverse accounts. Drain them. That’s what they seem to care so much about these days. The money gives them prestige.”
Bronc turned to me. “What’s your confidence level, Eli?”
“I’m sure. About the accounting end. But are they going to make a big move? And if so, what? when?”
Pearl, still at the door, cleared her throat. “She’s still welcome at the house, Eli. Maddie’s got a room made up if she needs it. No questions asked.”
I nodded. “She’ll be there for the toy run. After that, we see what happens.”
The meeting broke up, men filing out with the quiet efficiency of old soldiers. I waited until the room emptied. Arsenal lingered behind, as I knew he would.
He approached me with a look I hadn’t seen before: respect, maybe even apology. “I was wrong about her,” he said. “I know what it’s like, getting used by someone stronger. If he touches her again, I’ll take care of him myself.”
“I’ll handle it,” I said. But I let him have the last word.
“He won’t leave the room alive.”
He left, but not before squeezing my shoulder—a pack gesture, silent but absolute.
Afterward, I walked back to the main pack room. It was still buzzing with activity. The sun was already going down, a hard orange through the cloud cover. I could hear the laughter and yelling from the kitchen before I even stepped onto the porch.
Parker was at the table with Maddie, Pearl, and three little kids. Rocket was asleep in the middle of the floor, belly-up and snoring. Parker’s hair was a mess, and her face was flushed. She was teaching a girl how to tie a knot in a piece of string.
When she saw me, her eyes flashed a question: Is it over?
I nodded, and she excused herself from the table.
We stepped outside. The cold was sharp, bracing, real. She hugged her arms to her body, but I could see the tension gone from her posture.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Better than I expected. They trust you now.”
She gave me a look that was all skepticism.
I laughed. “Arsenal wants to kill Silas. You’re in.”
She smiled. Not a huge thing, but it felt like the first real one since this started.
“Are you okay?” I asked, voice low.
“I am now,” she said. She hesitated. “It’s starting to feel like it used to, before my parents…” she trailed off, words unfinished.
“It doesn’t have to happen all in one day,” I said. “It takes time.”
She let out a slow breath. “Maybe I’ll get there.”
I put my hand on her back, felt the warmth through the flannel shirt. “Of course you will.”
She leaned into my touch, just a little. “What about you? You don’t seem like the pack house type.”
I shrugged. “You’d be surprised. I just moved out about five months ago.”
She grinned. “Oooh, I bet all the ladies cried.”
“You bet they did!” I picked her up and tickled her stomach. She squirmed until I put her down.
“I’m gonna pee my pants if you do that again!”
“Remind me not to do that again.” Damn, it felt good to laugh.
We went back inside, the noise and heat swallowing us up. The night wore on, and when it was time to go, she hugged Maddie and Pearl, and even let one of the kids braid a pink ribbon into her hair.
Driving home, she fell asleep in the passenger seat, with Rocket curled on her lap. I watched the road, hands steady on the wheel, my wolf quiet for the first time in weeks.
Maybe tomorrow might bring war. But tonight, we had peace.
And that was enough.