Wolf.e: A Dark MC Romance
Wolf.e: Chapter 33

I don’t hear from Gabriel for the entire week and I’m extra sappy about it because I’ve got my period. So essentially, I’ve been fluctuating between polishing off pints of Ben & Jerry’s and talking to myself in an aggressive tone, practicing what I’m going to say when I do see him. The closest I come to hearing from him is getting a call from Mike telling me my truck will be another week or two while he waits for parts.

Life feels strangely back to normal. I should be glad. But now that he’s been inside me… both my body and my head… now that I’ve seen that little piece of him, I can admit to myself that I’m both equally fascinated and angry that Gabriel just left me in my underwear in the middle of my bed.

What I didn’t expect was to understand his business—to be proven wrong. My parents taught me that there was a line, a fork in the path of good and bad. You either walked down one or the other. Gabriel seems to be teaching me that there’s a way to walk that line and you can do it with grace—for reasons that actually make sense. I didn’t expect him to be doing illegal things for the right reasons, and it creates a very gray area of criminal activity I never thought I’d question. Now that I’ve had a few days to think, I realize I wanted to struggle with understanding it because it means that maybe what I’ve always believed isn’t necessarily better, it’s just different.

That being said, my boring life is probably for the best. If he really is done with me, I remind myself that not dealing with trucks blowing up and people getting murdered with no remorse is actually a good thing.

I talk to Layla every day and go to work, eat my dinner and do the same thing the next day. I sink myself into work. I’ve smiled and tried to pretend like I’m not changed by this man’s invasive entrance into my life.

By Friday as I’m leaving for work, the construction workers and club members I’ve been bringing treats to all week from the town bakery, tell me they should have my porch finished today. It’s so beautiful but I still have the matter of settling that bill. There’s not a chance I’m letting my one-night stand turned captor turned the man who vanished pay for it.

I’m heading in for an extra day at work, I was only supposed to go in on Monday and Wednesday but as Dell said during my orientation, my work would probably allow for more hours if I want them. I’m having lunch with Layla and then I plan to spend the weekend curled up in my pajamas with some take out. Maybe work on my garden. I stop at the coffee shop for my usual latte before heading in.

“Got you one already,” Dell says with a cheery smile when I enter the office. “I texted you.”

I pull my phone out. “So you did.” I smile

“Oh well, now I have two, I could use them today anyway.” It’s true, I haven’t been sleeping the best. I have dreams that I’m not alone in my room at night. I tell myself it’s just my spooky old house because whenever I fully wake up, there’s no one there, of course.

“I pulled the marble samples for your client’s backsplash, they’ll be here at ten. I think the ones you chose will go so well with the kitchen counter,” he says, and so goes the rest of our morning. We work well together even if I can’t get his unconventional side hobbies out of my head after Gabriel’s comment about him.

When I finish up and see my clients out at noon, I check my phone. Layla’s running late so I just watch for her silver SUV out the front window. We’re lunching at the bistro on the next block, and we planned to walk. I peek out the window for her ten minutes later. She’s still not here but I can’t help noticing a black Harley parked out front across the street. I’ve seen it every day around this time when I’ve been in this week. The custom red flames painted on the fender and the front panels make it stick out like a sore thumb. It looks expensive but it’s the rider who has no qualms about making his presence known. He’s tall and solid, and just like most of the guys I’ve seen in the HOH, he’s covered in tattoos, with a wide jaw, unkempt wavy hair, and a gruff beard. He wears riding gloves and a leather jacket covered in patches as he leans against his bike casually smoking. I’ve never seen him close up, but my first assumption is that he’s a warning. A friend of the club and Gabriel, letting me know he’s watching me, warning me not to go to the cops. By the second day, I decided I was right, having received their message loud and clear. It has to be them. It’s not usual for any outsiders to hang around like this.

Layla finally pulls up ten minutes later, and I make my way outside to meet her, noticing that my keeper is gone. We casually chat as we walk to the Two Spoons bistro and all through lunch.

“Still radio silence?” she asks as she shoves a bite of her club sandwich into her mouth.

“Yep,” I answer, adding salsa to my fajita.

“Told you he’d just move on.”

“Yeah, you did, but I have to worry. Going from the whole ‘you have to stay with me’ to absolutely nothing? Is he plotting my demise?”

Layla laughs, still unaware of what I saw. She’s adamant she doesn’t want to know.

“Sean knows the club can trust you, I’m sure he’s told Wolfe that. My guess? They’re keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re trustworthy.”

The rider across from my work flashes through my mind and it makes sense. That’s what I thought too.

“They’re not in the habit of holding people prisoner,” Layla says, dotting her mouth with her napkin.

I nod.

“Can I be straight with you?” she asks.

I sip my iced tea. “Of course.”

“You seem like you want to see him. You know, Mr. Not-my-type,” Layla says in her best impression of me.

I scoff, my mind drifting back to my attic less than a week ago. I shut it out, locking it away. “I didn’t expect to understand him or like him. But I could tell, that night in my house, the way he looked at me before he left, he doesn’t want me to understand him. I could tell he regretted telling me as much as he did.”

I look out the picture window behind her. “Doesn’t matter anyway. He’s probably had ten other women by now. It’s been five days.”

“Sean says he’s barely seen him. He’s working on two bikes right now, one for some NBA star and the other for a Kentucky fire chief.”

“I’m going to the club tomorrow night. Come with me. If there is anything between you two, you’ll know the first moment you see him.”

I shrug as my phone lights up on the table. “I don’t know.”

“Is that my brother?” Layla asks as she scarfs down her last bite.

“Yes, he’s been great at showing me the ropes.”

She giggles. “I think he always had a crush on you.”

I smile back. “Not a chance.”

“It’s true, he used to ask me every day after school, ‘is Brinley coming over tonight?’” Layla laughs. “I swear, he was a little lovesick teenager our senior year of high school,” she adds, taking her last drink and finishing it with a little slurping sound.

Layla reads it from my lock screen and laughs “He’s got you covered.” She winks

“Shut up,” I say, tossing my napkin at her.

When we round the corner on Main, the bike with the red flames is back right across the street from my work.

Layla spots him at the same time as I do and stops dead in her tracks.

I stop too because I’m instantly on high alert with her. “What?”

She pulls her phone out and presses one button on it, then starts walking again. “Don’t look at him, just keep walking. Whatever I say, go along with it.”

“Who? What are you talking about?” I ask, even though I already know because my gaze follows hers.

I watch the rider who’s been parked in front of my work for the last week turn around and crush his cigarette butt under the heel of his boot. I can see it, even from a hundred feet away… The grim reaper on the back of a red Harley. The red banner above is glaringly obvious, and I already know enough to understand that this is bad news.

Disciples of Sin. My keeper isn’t a friend of the club, he’s the enemy.