Page 38 of Wolf's Whisper

“A club brother?” I echo, my eyebrows shooting up. “You’re telling me he’s part of The Wild Jester’s MC?”

Hatchet chuckles, leaning casually against his bike. “Is your mind blown, Janelle?”

I blink, trying to process what Hatchet asks me. “Blown? More like mildly singed,” I retorted, crossing my arms. “So you’re telling me the guy dragging Jack’s sorry butt into a squad car is on your payroll?”

Onyx snorts, shaking her head. “Not quite payroll, sweetheart. Eagle’s one of ours, but he’s clean as a whistle regarding his badge. Keeps his club life and cop life separate.”

“Mostly,” Hatchet adds with a sly grin.

“Mostly?” I repeat, looking between them suspiciously. “That doesn’t exactly scream trustworthy to me.”

“Relax.” Onyx gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping closer, her voice drops just enough to make the moment feel more intimate. “Eagle’s solid. He’s been with us for years, and trust me, if anyone knows how to keep things above board when it counts, it’s him.”

I glance at Onyx when I hear Chloe say from the car, “Is that my Hatchet?”

Hatchet’s grin widens, and it almost throws me off. Noticing I was staring, he straightened up, looking toward the car. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite little lady.” His voice softens in a way I hadn’t expected.

Chloe’s tiny head pops out of the window, her curls bouncing as she waves both hands wildly. “Hatchet! Mommy said you were busy with bikes and stuff!”

“Bikes and stuff, huh?” Hatchet replies, walking over to the car with a swagger that screams “big bad biker,” but his tone was all marshmallows. “Well, I had to make time for my best girl, didn’t I?”

Onyx smirks at me, clearly enjoying the bewildered look on my face. “He’s got a soft spot for kids,” she explains.

I blink at her. “Hatchet? The guy who made Jack look like a deflated balloon has a ‘soft spot’?”

“He’s full of surprises,” Onyx shrugs, leaning against her bike with an air of nonchalance that only makes her look even cooler. She watches Hatchet as he crouches down to Chloe’s level, his broad, tattooed arms resting on his knees.

Chloe giggles, her eyes sparkling as she claps her hands. “Hatchet! Did you bring Mr. Rumble, or did he stay at the house? He’s so funny.”

The guys laugh and Rumble stands there with the biggest smile. “Hey Chloe girl, I am here waiting for you all.”

Chloe’s face lights up brighter than the neon lights outside the dive bar down the street. “Rumble! You’re here too?” she squeals, practically vibrating with excitement as she scrambles to open the car door. Abel and Dillion aren’t far behind, their heads popping out like meerkats as they grin at the sight of him.

“Of course I’m here,” Rumble announces loudly, spreading his arms wide like he was about to catch a flying tackle. “What kind of uncle would I be if I missed a chance to hang out with my favorite crew?”

The boys already out of the car, racing toward him like they haven’t just been sitting there terrified out of their minds five minutes ago. Chloe follows right behind, her little legs pumping as fast as they can go.

I watch in amazement as the kids swarm Rumble and Hatchet, their tough biker exteriors melting into something oddly wholesome. Rumble scoops Chloe up effortlessly, spinning her around until her joyful giggles fills the night air. Hatchet is busy ruffling the boys' hair, pretending to dodge their playful punches with exaggerated movements that have them laughing like maniacs.

Suddenly there’s a noise in the car. “Don’t worry motherfuckers; I’m not dying in here.”Oh my god Tank—I am a horrible person.

“Tank, are you okay?” I get out of the way so the other two guys can move around to the front of the vehicle to help Tank.

Tank groans as he pushes open the passenger door, one massive hand gripping the car frame for support. “Do I look okay?” he grumbles, his voice a mix of irritation and exhaustion.“Y’all left me in here like a damn sack of potatoes while you had your little family reunion.”

Hatchet chuckles, clapping Tank on the back as he steps around to help. “Relax, big guy. You’re too stubborn to die on us.”

Rumble snorts, adjusting Chloe on his hip as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, Tank. If you were dying, we’d at least have heard some dramatic last words about how you’re going out ‘like a warrior’ or something.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Tank shoots back, wincing as he eases himself out of the car. “I’ve got plenty of dramatic speeches lined up for occasions just like this.”

Onyx rolls her eyes, as she leans against her bike. “Tank, if you’re gonna die, at least do it quietly. We’ve got kids present.”

Chloe, still perched on Rumble’s hip, raises her hand like she was in school. “Mr. Tank, are you gonna say a speech now?” Her big eyes blink up at him with innocent curiosity.

Tank groans dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “Oh, sweet Chloe,” he says, his voice dropping into a theatrical baritone. “If this is my end, then let it be known that I died surrounded by laughter, chaos, and the most annoying bikers I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

Hatchet doubles over laughing, slapping his knee. “You’re ridiculous, man.”

---