Page 37 of Wolf's Whisper

As he steps closer to Onyx’s side, Hatchet chuckles, low and menacing. “Criminals?” He glances at Onyx with a smirk. “That what we are now?”

Onyx shrugs, unimpressed by Jack’s attempt to insult them. “I’ve been called worse.”

Before anyone could say or do anything else, the lights and sirens of police cars come up the road. The flashing red and blue lights slice through the darkness, painting everyone in an eerie, shifting glow. For a moment, the only sound is the wail of sirens and the quiet rumble of the bikes still idling.

Jack’s face morphs from fear to something resembling smugness. He steps back, squaring his shoulders as if he’d just been handed a lifeline. “Oh, looks like your little gang’s fun is over,” he sneers, though his voice still wavers at the edges. “You’re all about to get exactly what you deserve.”

Onyx doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t even turn to look at the approaching squad cars. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head at him, her lips curving into a slow, almost amused smile. “You are going to be surprised,” her voice so casual.

The cops pull up, two cars screeching to a halt with their lights still blazing, and two officers get out. Onyx and Hatchet acknowledge one of the officers, “Hello, Officer Hastings.”

Hastings tips his hat slightly, his eyes flicking from Onyx to the rest of the MC crew before finally landing on Jack. He doesn’t look surprised—if anything, he looks mildly irritated, like a dad showing up to break up a fight between unruly teenagers.

"Evening, Dawson," Hastings says in his gravelly voice. His hand rests casually on his belt, inches away from his holstered gun, but his stance has no tension. He looks over at Hatchet and gives him a nod. "Hatchet."

Jack blinks, his smugness faltering as he realizes there was no immediate rush to cuff anyone. "Wait a second," he stammers, pointing accusingly at Onyx and the others. "You're just going to stand there? They're threatening me! This is a gang!"

Hastings raises an unimpressed eyebrow and turns to Onyx. "You threatening people again, Dawson?"

Onyx smirks and shrugs, the picture of nonchalance. “Threatening? Nah. Just having a friendly chat. Jack here was just leaving, weren’t you, Jack?” Her tone drips with a mock sweetness, making me bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Like hell I was!” Jack bluster, but the crack in his voice betraying him yet again. He points at Onyx, Hatchet, and me like he can’t decide who to blame first. “She’s got a gun! And these thugs—”

“Careful,” Hatchet cut in smoothly, his voice calm but carrying a weight that silenced Jack mid-sentence. “Choose your next words wisely.”

Hastings sighs deeply, clearly exhausted by whatever shenanigans led him to this moment. He pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters something under his breath before leveling his gaze at Jack. “You’re on thin ice already, Jack,” his tone flat.“We know about the assault charges, and now it seems like a violation of a restraining order. Am I right?”

Jack’s face turns beet red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “That’s… that’s not what this is!” he stammers. “I wasn’t violating anything! I was just—”

“Just?” Hastings cuts him off sharply, his tone sharp enough to slice through Jack’s weak excuses. “You’ve already got a record longer than a CVS receipt, and you think anyone here is buying your story?” He gestures toward me and the others, his gaze hardening. “You’re harassing a woman who has a restraining order against you, Jack. That’s plenty for me to bring you in tonight.”

“I didn’t—” Jack starts again, but Hastings held up a hand.

“Save it,” Hastings barks. He pulls out his handcuffs and takes a step toward Jack, who immediately takes several panicked steps back.

“No, wait!” Jack nearly trips over himself in desperation. “You’ve got it all wrong! I was just trying to talk to her!" His voice cracks, his bravado crumbling faster than wet tissue paper. He points a shaking finger in my direction. "She’s making this out to be worse than it is!”

I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow at his pathetic deflection. “Oh, please,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes. “You showed up uninvited, again, leaving your creepy little ‘gifts.’ You were told to stay away, Jack. Restraining orders aren’t suggestions.”

Hastings doesn’t even pause. He reaches out and grabs Jack by the arm with all the ease of someone snatching a toddler mid-tantrum. “Yeah, yeah, they always are,” he mutters as he slapped the cuffs onto Jack’s wrists. “You can tell your sob story down at the station.”

“You think this is over?” his voice trembling more than he probably intended. “You think you’ve won?”

Onyx raises an eyebrow, her smirk growing wider. “Won? Honey, I haven’t even tried yet.”

Hatchet chuckles beside her, his deep laugh rumbling like thunder rolling in the distance. “You should quit while you’re behind, Jack,” he says, his voice carrying that dangerous edge of amusement. “Before you dig yourself an even deeper hole.”

Jack’s eyes dart between Hatchet and Onyx, but whatever fight he had left in him quickly drifts away. Hastings practically drags him toward the squad car as Jack continued his halfhearted protests.

“Unbelievable,” Hastings muttered, shaking his head as he opened the back door and shoved Jack inside. “I’ve had more pleasant evenings scraping roadkill off the highway.”

As the door slams shut, I let out a shaky breath. The tension around us melts away as the flashing lights paint Jack’s sulking face in hues of red and blue through the window.

Hatchet claps a hand on Onyx’s shoulder, his grin still firmly in place. “Well, that was entertaining,” he says, his tone light now that the drama and I decide I can slip out of the car.

“Do you know Officer Hastings?” I ask Onyx and Hatchet.

Onyx turns to me with a small smile, her arms still crossed over her chest. “Officer Hastings, we usually call him Eagle. He is a club brother.”

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