Page 28 of Wolf's Whisper

Wolf steps back, finally letting her hands fall to her sides, but her eyes don’t leave mine. “What was it this time?” she asks, her voice steady but low like she’s bracing herself for the answer.

I point to the kitchen table where the drawing he left is there. Wolf strides over to the table, her movements sharp and deliberate. She stops in front of the drawing, her hand hovering above it like she’s afraid touching it might make it worse somehow.

Wolf’s jaw tightens as she flips the paper over and sees the drawing of the ‘Daddy’ stick figure with a knife over his family lying on the ground. Her knuckles go white as she grips the table's edge, her breathing shallow and almost primal.

She doesn’t say anything at first; the silence is more unnerving than if she’d started yelling. Her shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and I can see the tension rippling through her body like a live wire ready to snap.

“Wolf,” I say softly, taking a cautious step toward her. “It’s just another scare tactic. He’s trying to mess with me—with us.”

She doesn’t look at me, her eyes locked on the crude stick figure drawing like it’s a personal insult. “This isn’t just messing with you,” she says, low and taut. “This is him saying he’s notdone. That he’s still out there, watching, waiting.” She finally turns to face me, and the fire in her blue eyes makes my stomach flip. “And that is not something I’m going to let slide.”

I take another step closer, reaching out to touch her arm. “We don’t even know for sure it was him,” I say, though the words feel hollow as they leave my mouth. We both know who it was. We’ve known all along. But admitting it out loud feels like giving him more power than he already has.

Wolf’s gaze snaps to mine, sharp and unyielding. “Come on, Janelle. You honestly think some random creep just happened to leave this?” She gestures to the stick figure drawing with a flick of her hand, her voice dripping with frustration. “It’s him. It’s always been him.”

I bite my lip, struggling to hold back tears. “I just don’t want to believe he’s still out there… still watching us.” I swallow hard, my heart pounding at the barely restrained fury radiating off her. “What do we do?” My voice wavers despite my best effort to sound strong.

Wolf straightens up, her jaw set like granite as she turns back to me. “We fight back,” she says simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. “But first, you and the kids need to be somewhere safe. Somewhere, he can’t get to you.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “You’re not sending us away,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I’m not running. Not again.”

“It’s not running,” she counters, her voice firm but not unkind. “It’s regrouping. No more staying in this house. I’ve got a place—secure, off the grid. He won’t find you there. Do you think I’m gonna let this guy get anywhere near you or those kids? Over my dead body.”

My chest tightens, and I feel the sting of tears I refuse to let fall. “And what about you, huh? What happens to you whilewe’re ‘regrouping’? You’re just gonna stay here and face him alone?”

Wolf steps closer, her hands finding my shoulders, grounding me with her presence. “Listen to me,” she says softly, her thumbs lightly brushing against my arms. “I’ve dealt with worse than this guy. He’s nothing but a coward hiding behind his little games, and I’m not about to let him think he’s got the upper hand.” She leans in slightly, her voice dropping even lower, her eyes locking onto mine like a lifeline. “Janelle, I know you’re strong. You’ve been through hell and back, and you protected those babies to get to us for help. I need you to trust me on this, Janelle. I need to know you and the kids are safe so I can do what needs to be done.”

Her shoulders relax just a fraction, but the intensity doesn’t fade. “Good,” she says firmly. “Pack what you need for you and the kids—just the essentials. We’ll head out tonight.”

“Tonight?” My voice comes out higher-pitched than I intended as panic starts to bubble up again. “You mean right now?”

Wolf nods, already moving toward the kids’ rooms' hallway. “Yeah, right now. The longer we stay here, the more chances he has to make another move. We’re not giving him that opportunity.”

I follow her as she strides toward the living room, her biker boots thudding against the hardwood floors with purpose. “But what about the kids? They’ll know something’s wrong if we just disappear overnight.”

Wolf stops and turns back to me, her expression softening as she places her hands on my shoulders again. “Janelle, I promise you, this is temporary. Just until I can figure out how to stop this guy for good. The kids will adjust—and so will you. But the most important thing right now is keeping all of you safe.”

I nod reluctantly, knowing deep down that she’s right but hating every second. “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll start packing.”

Wolf enters Abel and Dillion's room with a small, reassuring smile in my direction. I can only hope that all this chaos will end soon and we can finally taste normalcy, or at least something close to it.

Chapter Fourteen

Wolf

As I walk into the boy’s room, I take a breath to gather my thoughts. The boys are sitting on the floor, building afortress with their Lego blocks. Already building protective walls. Abel looks up; first, he’s looking me over me like he always does when trying to figure out if something’s wrong. The kid’s too smart for his own good.

“Wolf, what’s going on?” he asks, his voice steady but curious. He’s only twelve, but a seriousness about him reminds me of someone who’s seen too much too soon. It's probably because he has.

Dillon, the younger one, glances between us, his big brown eyes wide and curious. “Yeah, why do you look serious, Wolf? Did someone steal your bike?”

I can’t help but laugh softly at that. “No one’s touching my bike, buddy.” I ruffle Dillon’s hair, trying to keep my tone light. “But we’ve got a little adventure to go on tonight. Gotta pack some stuff and head out for a bit.”

Abel narrows his eyes at me, clearly unconvinced. “Why? Is it because of him again?” His voice is so quiet, but it feels like a cannon firing in the room. Confused, Dillon looks up at his brother, but Abel doesn’t break his gaze from mine. The kid knows. He always knows.

I crouch down to their level, resting my arms on my knees as I try to figure out how to explain this without scaring them more than they need to be. “Look,” I start, keeping my voice steady, “you remember how we talked about staying safe and being smart? Somewhere quiet where you guys can just be kids and not worry about anything.”

Abel crosses his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening. “But we’re not safe here? You said you’d protect us.”

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