Page 39 of Wolf's Whisper

Rumble shakes his head, trying to keep a straight face for Chloe’s sake but failing miserably. “You hear that, Chloe? He’s blaming us for his ‘tragic demise.’”

Chloe giggles and pats Tank’s arm with her tiny hand. “But you’re not really dying, right? Mommy says people only die if they eat too much candy or don’t wear their seatbelt.”

Tank straightens up, placing a hand solemnly over his heart. “Don’t worry, little one. I wore my seat belt and haven’t eaten nearly enough candy to be in danger.”

The kids erupt into laughter, their infectious giggles filling the air as Tank gives a mock bow. Onyx shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips as she watches the scene unfold. I can’t help but look at her, the way she seems so at ease amid the chaos, like she belongs here in some unshakable way that I envied.

“You’ve got quite the crew,” my voice soft enough so only she could hear.

Onyx glances at me, her blue eyes catching the dim light from the streetlamp above. “They’re not bad,” she admits with an almost shy shrug. “They’re family.”

I nod, suddenly feeling a lump in my throat. Family. It' a word that carried so much weight for me—so much pain and hope tangled together that sometimes it felt impossible to sort through it all. But watching Onyx with her crew and how she manages to keep them all grounded in their chaos while still being a part of it, I start to wonder if maybe family doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it’s just about showing up, about being there when it counted.

“Hey, you okay?” Onyx’s voice cut through my thoughts, gentle but direct. She tilts her head slightly, those sharp blue eyes studying me like she could see right through every wall I’d ever built.

I blink, forcing a smile that appears more awkward than I intended. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” she teases, her lips curving into that cocky grin that somehow made my stomach flip every time.

Before I could respond—or try to come up with something clever—Chloe comes barreling back over, her little hand tugging at mine with all the urgency of a five-year-old on a mission. “Mommy! Mommy! Come see! Mr. Rumble said he can lift Tank! He’s gonna try right now!”

I laugh, letting her drag me toward the chaos unfolding in front of the car. Tank stands there with his arms crossed, looking unimpressed, while Rumble flexes dramatically like a cartoon strongman.

“All right, all right,” Hatchet interjects, holding up his hands like a referee about to stop an impending disaster. “Before anyone breaks their back or ends up on YouTube for all the wrong reasons, let’s remember we’ve got kids here.”

“I can handle it,” Rumble insists, puffing out his chest. “Tank’s just all talk and hot air anyway.”

Tank raises an eyebrow, his slow grin full of mischief. “Oh, is that so? All right then, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The kids squeal in delight as Tank crouches down slightly, bracing himself like he was preparing to be hoisted into the air. Rumble, clearly committed to this ridiculous challenge, cracks his neck and wiggles his fingers dramatically before stepping forward.

“All right, folks,” Rumble begins, addressing the kids like a ringmaster at a circus. “Prepare to witness the most daring feat of strength ever attempted in Wild Jester territory!”

Abel and Dillion are practically bouncing on their toes, chanting, “Do it! Do it! Do it!” while Chloe claps her hands together like she’d just spotted a unicorn.

“Rumble,” Onyx warns, her tone laced with amusement but also a healthy dose of skepticism. “If you throw your back out trying to lift Tank, I’m not driving you to the ER again.”

“Hey, I’ve been working out,” Rumble shoots back with mock outrage as he positions himself beside Tank. Tank smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. "All right, Hercules, let’s see what all those protein shakes are doing for you."

Rumble huffs like a bull about to charge, planting his feet with unnecessary drama before wrapping his arms around Tank’s waist. The kids cheer louder, their excitement infectious.

“On three,” Rumble declares, glancing back at his tiny audience for effect. “One… two…” He grunts as he gives it all he has, veins practically popping out of his neck. Tank doesn’t move an inch. Not. One. Inch.

Chloe gasps loudly, covering her mouth with her hands as if she’s watching a suspenseful movie. Abel and Dillion start laughing so hard they could barely stand up straight.

“Need a hand there, buddy?” Hatchet chokes out between fits of laughter.

“I got this!” Rumble barks, clearly determined to salvage whatever shred of dignity he had left. He tries again, planting his feet wider this time and letting out a warrior-like roar. Tank, ever the showman, yawns dramatically, patting Rumble on the back like he was a toddler trying to lift a boulder.

“Don’t hurt yourself now,” Tank grins like the Cheshire cat.

Rumble’s face turns redder than a stop sign as he strains one last time before collapsing onto the ground in a heap of defeat. The kids erupt into wild cheers and laughter, clearly finding his failure more entertaining than any success would’ve been.

“I think the earth moved more than Tank did,” Abel wheezes, clutching his stomach as he leans on Dillion for support.

Chloe tugs on my sleeve again, her eyes wide with wonder. “Mommy, can you lift Mr. Tank?”

I laugh so hard I nearly snort. “Sweetheart, I think even superheroes would have trouble lifting Mr. Tank.”

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