Page 31 of Wolf

Steel frowns at her and I bristle because no one should ever frown at her, not for any reason.

“Maybe he’ll get a hospital when he earns it,” Steel rumbles. “And to earn it, he’s gonna have to do a lot of talking.”

He turns to Julia and asks, “You know who he is?”

She shakes her head and looks down. I rub her shoulder. My hand hurts. Both of them do. My wrists and shoulders, too. Even little scrawny stalker bastards are made of meat and bone, and that’s not exactly the stuff they fill pillows with.

“Edge and I will take him to the clubhouse,” Steel says. “Wolf, you make sure Julia gets back safe and then come and join us.”

“You better not start without me.”

“Then you better get your ass in gear,” Edge retorts. He bends and hauls up the stalker, who groans and lets his head hang. A thin stream of bloody saliva leaks from between his lips. Julia grimaces. I decide that she’s seen enough and turn her around, face her away from the violence. She gets the idea and starts walking fast to get out of there. Behind us, Steel and Edge ride off. I wish I was with them.

“You can go with them if you want.”

“Huh?” Julia’s soft voice comes as if she’s heard my thoughts.

“Them. You can go with them. I’ll make it home okay on my own.”

“Hell, no,” I growl. “I ain’t one to do a job halfway.”

“Wolf, I’ll be fine. What are the odds of something else happening tonight?”

“More than zero, which means I’m makin’ sure it can’t happen.” I give her a little prod from behind to make her go faster.

She gives me a hard look that I ignore. Just to show her that she can’t tell me what to do, even though I could safely leave her as soon as we’re in sight of the guy watching her house, I go with her all the way up to the porch. She gives me a look again, different from the one before, and it’s about all I can do to stop myself from going in after her. My cock strains toward her like a dog pointing at game. I yank on my own leash and drag myself away.

I go grab my bike from where I left it and ride hard to the industrial part of town, a few blocks away from the water tower where our clubhouse is located. Chain link fences surround the compound, with an ugly, squat brick building in the middle. It’s a nasty-looking place with a worn exterior and barred-up windows. Anyone who didn’t know what it was used for would think it was abandoned until they saw the security cams, some of which are on the fences, others on the building itself.

I let myself in using the code for the gate. 1289. Been the same since the gate was installed. We don’t give it out to just anyone, so there hasn’t been any reason to change it. I’m not sure anyone would remember a new set of numbers, anyway. We’re all just a dumb bunch of meatheads.

Edge and Steel are parked near a side entrance. I park there too and head inside. The clubhouse isn’t just a place to hang out and work on our bikes and occasionally have really important church meetings. There are rooms with beds for anyone to crash in if they need to for whatever reason. That means it’s likely there are people staying and sleeping here any day of the week. I don’t want to wake anyone and get an earful. The way I feel right now, an argument could turn into an all-out brawl.

I stalk through the building and get a lucky break after peering in three rooms. Steel and Edge have got the stalker in one of the spare rooms, tied to one of those uncomfortable-ass metal folding chairs. The guy is groggy and groaning, barely conscious. The Prez and VP lean against opposite walls while waiting for me.

“About time,” Edge grunts. “You walk here?”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap. I shut the door behind me. The room is small with the three of us in it, plus the bastard in the chair taking up the rest of the floor space. I crack my knuckles, dried blood flaking off. “Let’s do this.”

“Hold on,” Steel says. “We don’t act without knowin’ all the information and you ain’t got all the information. Edge and I know this guy.”

I give him a startled look and whip my head around to look at the stalker. It being dark outside, and me being in a rage, I didn’t get a proper look at the asshole.

First thing is that he’s small and slight, scrawny, but with some muscle tone. Looks like he could have been a gymnast in another life. Not in this one, though. He’s a street rat if I ever saw one. His clothes are filthy and ripped, and that’s under the blood and dirt from when I attacked him. He’s unshaven and smells like a back alley does, like hot garbage, piss, and vomit.

“This is the kind of company you guys keep now?” I ask.

Steel glares at me. I don’t apologize for the joke. “This bastard’s Jake Randy. A drifter,” he says. “Small-time criminal who’s been in the area a few months now. Mostly panhandles and digs through the dumpsters, but we’ve caught him doin’ a few other things here and there. Kind of hoped he’d leave town on his own by now. Seems like he isn’t a big fan of doin’ what’s best for him, though.”

Steel’s phone rings then. He snatches it up, frowns at it, and puts it on speaker. “What’s up, Tracker?”

“Prez, just managed to ID the guy who vandalized Julia’s car,” Tracker says. “That prick, Jake Randy.”

I snort. “Seems like a stroke of luck that we got him right here, then.”

Steel informs Tracker of what just went down. “Good work, now we’ve got more dirt on him.”

I crouch down in front of Jake and pat his cheek. He moans and shakes his head. I grab his face and jerk his chin up. His eyes fly open wide and when he sees and recognizes me, he rocks in the chair. That’s when he seems to notice that he’s been tied up.