Page 22 of Wolf's Whisper

He snorts, clearly enjoying himself. “You’re dodging the question, which means I’m right. Admit it, Wolf. You’ve got it bad.”

I groan, running a hand over my face. “Fine. Whatever. I like her, okay? Happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” He grins like he just won the lottery. “Man, this is gonna be fun to watch.”

I grab the nearest pillow and chuck it at him. He catches it easily, laughing as he tosses it back onto the bed.

“Are we going to have pillow fights and braid each other’s hair now?” As he rubs his hand over his bald head, laughing. “All jokes aside,” he says, his tone softening slightly. “She seems good for you. You deserve that, Wolf.”

The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond. Tank isn’t usually one for heartfelt moments, so when they happen, they hit hard.

“Thanks,” I manage to say after a beat, my voice quieter than intended. Tank just nods, taking another swig of his beer before standing up.

“Don’t screw it up, though,” he says casually, but there’s an edge of seriousness in his tone. “Women like that don’t come around often.”

I know he’s right. “Noted. Now get out of my room before I start charging rent.”

He smirks, tipping his beer at me in a mock salute. “Night, Wolf.”

“Night, Tank,” I mutter as he shuts the door behind him.

The room falls quiet again, but it feels less suffocating this time. I lean back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling and trying to process whatever is happening inside me. Tank’s words replay in my mind—she seems good for you.

Good for me. The idea feels foreign and almost laughable. People like me don’t get “good.” We get chaos, scars, and excuses to keep people at arm’s length. But Janelle… she’s different. She makes me want to try. To be better. Not just for her but for myself, too.

I groan and grab my phone again, staring at the screen like it holds all the answers to my messed-up thoughts. My thumb hovers over her name in my contacts list. I could call her—hear her voice again, maybe even tell her some of this swirling mess in my head. But what if I scare her off? What if she doesn’t feel the same?

“Damn it, Wolf,” I mutter under my breath. “You’ve faced down armed men without flinching, and here you are, scared of a phone call.”

Before I can chicken out, I hit the call button. The phone rings twice, and my heart races as if I am about to jump out of a plane without a parachute. On the third ring, she answers.

“Onyx?” she says, slightly surprised but not unhappy. “Hey. Everything okay?”

I clear my throat, trying to sound casual and not like an idiot. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. Just... couldn’t sleep.”

There’s a pause on her end, and I hear faint shuffling in the background. “Same here,” she admits softly. “Chloe had a nightmare earlier. Took me a while to get her settled.”

My chest tightens at the thought of her dealing with that alone. “She okay now?” I ask.

“She’s fine,” Janelle says with a small laugh that’s more tired than anything else. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

“Must run in the family trait passed on from her mom.” There’s a pause, and I wonder if I’ve overstepped, but then she laughs softly. The kind of laugh makes my chest feel lighter like maybe I said the right thing for once.

But then Janelle speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

I let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of my neck even though she couldn’t see me. “Not really. Most of the time, I just wing it.”

“Well,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice now, “you’re doing a pretty good job tonight.”

That warmth spreads through my chest again, and for once, I’m not fighting it. “Glad to know I’m not completely screwing this up.”

“You could never screw this up,” she says softly, and those five little words hit me like a freight train.

I look down at my hand, balled up on my lap. It's like I'm trying to hold onto something. My voice is softer than usual when I reply, "That means a lot to me."

There's a brief silence on the call, and I feel my anxiety rising. Did I say too much? Did what I said sound strange? Just as I start to worry, Janelle's voice breaks through the quiet

“I have to tell you that you mean a lot to me, Onyx,” she says quietly, her words steady but laced with vulnerability. “More than I think I’ve let myself admit, especially since this is extremely new territory.”

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