Page 4 of Wolf at the Door

“Alright,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll stay. Just for tonight.”

Chapter 4

She is a skittish little thing, like a deer caught in headlights. I’d seen it before—the look people got when they find themselves in a world that doesn’t make sense to them. But there is a fire in her too, buried somewhere under all that fear. I can see it in her eyes, the way they sparkle when she thinks I’m not looking. She is trouble, sure, but maybe not the kind she thinks she is.

As Bella follows me down the narrow hallway to one of the spare rooms, I can feel her unease radiating off her in waves. “You’ll be alright here,” I tell her, opening the door to a small room with a single bed and a dresser. It isn’t much, but it is clean, and it has a lock on the door. “No one will bother you.”

She steps inside, glancing around as if expecting the walls to close in on her. “Thanks,” she murmurs, her voice hesitant. “I…I don’t know why you’re doing this, but…thanks.”

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “Like I said, don’t worry about it. Just get some rest.” I hesitate, then add, “And lock the door. Just in case.”

She nods, and as I turn to leave, I catch the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. It isn’t much, but it is a start.

After leaving Bella in the room, I head back down the hallway, my boots thudding against the old wooden floor. I can feel the tension in the air—bringing an outsider into the clubhouse isn’t standard practice, and the other brothers will have questions.Hell, I have questions. But the moment I saw that bastard Dylan’s hand on Bella, the decision was made. No way was I going to let him get another chance.

I push open the door to the main room, where Razor, our president, and Cutter, the VP, are waiting. Razor is nursing a drink, his sharp eyes following me as I approach. He has the kind of face that looks like it has been carved from stone—rough, weathered, and unyielding. Cutter is leaning back in a chair, his usual smirk replaced with a look of curiosity as he watches me.

"Got yourself a guest, Wolf?" Razor asks, his voice as steady as ever. "We don’t usually bring outsiders in unless there’s a good reason. What’s the story?"

I grab a chair, flipping it around to straddle it backward as I sit down. “Ran into some trouble while I was out,” I explain, keeping my tone even. “Girl’s name is Bella. Her ex-boyfriend, Dylan, was hassling her pretty hard. I stepped in, made it clear he needed to back off. He didn’t take the hint, and I figured he might come looking for her again. Didn’t want to leave her out there alone.”

Cutter raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting to one of mild amusement. “So, you’re playing knight in shining armour now?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You softening up on us, Wolf?”

I shoot him a glare that could’ve cut glass. “Not likely. This prick’s got a temper, and I’ve got a hunch he’s not going to let it go. I’m just making sure she’s not in his line of fire.”

Razor nods, his gaze steady on mine. “And you think he’s enough of a problem that we need to get involved?”

“I don’t know yet,” I admit. “But I want to find out. I need more information on him—where he’s from, who he runs with, and if he’s ever been tied to any real trouble.” I pause, considering my next words carefully. “And I want one of the prospects to keep an eye on her gran’s place. I don’t trust that Dylan bastard not to go after her family just to make a point.”

Razor exchanges a look with Cutter, then nods. “Alright. We can spare one of the prospects. Have Jerome head over there and watch the place for a while. If anything looks off, he’ll let you know.” He takes a sip of his drink, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But if this situation starts to blow back on the club, it’s on you to clean it up.”

“That’s the plan,” I reply, pushing back the chair and standing up. “I’ll take care of it.”

As I turn to leave, Cutter’s voice follows me. “You sure about this, Wolf? Bringing a girl into the fold like this isn’t your style. Don’t let it become a distraction.”

I pause, glancing over my shoulder. “I’m not distracted,” I respond, my voice cold. “I’m making sure a problem gets dealt with before it becomes a threat. And if Dylan wants to make this club business, he’ll find out really quickly what that means.”

Cutter’s smirk returns, but there is a glint of approval in his eyes. “Just remember, if you’re going to play the hero, you better be ready for the fallout.”

I leave the main room and find one of the prospects, a young kid named Jerome, wiping down bikes in the garage. He is eager to prove himself, always looking for ways to show he is more than just a prospect. I figure watching over Bella’s gran will be a good test for him—simple enough, but still important.

“Jerome,” I call out, he looks up, wiping his hands on a rag. “I’ve got a job for you. There’s a house on Elm Street, old place with blue shutters. The girl’s grandma lives there, and I want you to keep an eye on it. There’s a guy—name’s Dylan. He’s trouble. If you see him anywhere near that house, you call me, and you keep her safe until I get there. Got it?”

Jerome nods, a determined look in his eyes. “Got it, Wolf. I’ll head over now.”

“Good.” I clap him on the shoulder. “And keep your head on a swivel. If this guy shows up, he’s not going to be friendly.”

As Jerome takes off, I head back into the clubhouse. The brothers are milling around, some casting curious glances my way. I ignore them, making my way to the bar and grabbing another beer. I am already putting together a mental list of people I can call to get the scoop on Dylan. If there is dirt on this guy, I’ll find it.

I don’t know why I am going to these lengths for a girl I’d just met. But something about the way she looks at me, with that mix of fear and defiance, sticks with me. She isn’t like the other girls who hang around the club—she isn’t here looking for a thrill or trying to get in with the brothers. She is just a girl in trouble, andfor some reason, I feel like I owe it to her to make sure she stays safe.

I take a swig of beer and set the bottle down on the bar with a heavy thud. One way or another, I’ll find out everything there is to know about Dylan. And if he is stupid enough to come after Bella again, he’ll learn fast why they call me Wolf.

The Road Killers clubhouse wasn’t just a place where we hung our kutts at the end of the day. It was a sanctuary for the brothers—a fortress where the outside world didn’t dictate our rules. Out there, society wanted us to conform, play by their rules. In here, we made our own. The club wasn’t just a motorcycle club; it was a brotherhood, forged in loyalty and blood.

And that loyalty ran deep. I’d seen it in action too many times to count. When one of us was in trouble, we closed ranks, circled the wagons, and took care of business. But loyalty wasn’t given freely; it was earned. And every man here had proven himself, including me.

When I walked back into the main room, a few of the brothers were gathered around the bar. There was Ironhead, built like a brick wall and just as stubborn, and Rocco, the club's treasurer, always crunching numbers and making sure our side business stayed off the radar. They stopped their conversation when I entered, their attention turning toward me.

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