Wayward Wolf

Best Laid Plans

Raymond

Eve told me what she found at Jared's house. It might be a good thing I wasn't there, or I might've accidentally put my fist through a wall. I want to find that fucking little toady more than ever and make him hurt in inhuman ways. I also feel more inadequate at protecting Eve than ever before. Which is why Frankie and Eve's family minus Val, Sylvie, and the babies are crammed into my living room, although Trevor is running late.

Even blind I can tell that Travis has spent the last ten minutes since he stepped through the door glaring at Frankie, who sits next to me and sips a beer like he didn't have a care in the goddamn world. At least he hasn't opened his stupid mouth and said some shit he'll regret. That mouth of his always got him into trouble. I still remember a few years ago when he showed up at my house stinking of booze and blood, saying he got in a fight with one of the Scott twins over a girl. He cleaned himself up and then I smacked him right good for fighting over women like this is the eighteenth fucking century. If either of them starts shit in my house right now when Eve's been all shaky and quivery since she got back, I'll knock their heads together if Sandy doesn't do it first.

When Trevor finally arrives, everyone is here. A few people have to sit on the floor, Sandy and Walter having been given the couch seeing as they're the oldest here with Eli nestling between them. Eve is curled up between my legs in a little ball like she wants to disappear. Frankie is sat just to my left and Travis is to my right as far as he can get from Frankie without sitting in the hallway.

"Alright, let's do this thing before Travis blows a blood vessel in his brain from all that glaring," Trevor says, his voice just to my right.

"I can glare all I like," Travis snips back. "The man bit off a chunk of my ear."

"Oh, get over it, Scott," Frankie drawls.

"Shut the fuck up, both of you," I growl. "We aren't here for a pissing contest."

"Why are we here?" Trevor asks.

Eve takes in a deep breath, lifting her head from where it's been nestled into my chest. I can hear the words die on her tongue as she slowly releases the breath before dropping her head back down. She's been uncharacteristically skittish and quiet since she came back, for a legitimate reason, but it still sets my teeth on edge.

"There were pictures on Mark's bed at Jared's house. Pictures of Eve. Everyone else's face had been burned out and there was cum on a few of them," Frankie supplies, Eve shuddering at his words.

"Oh god, ew!" Trevor exclaims. "Sick!"

There are a few more muttered sympathies before Travis asks, "What are we here for exactly? I get its fucking disgusting, but we still don't know where that fucker is."

"I'm blind," I answer. "I can hold my own, but this little shit is sick in the head. As much as I hate it, I can't protect Eve here alone."

"Stay with us," Sandy offers. "With both Trev and Trav gone, we have plenty of space."

I'd thought of that, and while it was the best idea, the thought of having to stay for an undetermined amount of time in an unfamiliar place sounds like a nightmare. I'll more than likely either be attached to Eve's hip or smack face first into more than one wall. If it was our only option, I'd do it in a heartbeat if it kept Eve safe.

Frankie must notice my inner turmoil because he sighs. "I'll stay here in the spare room, I guess."

There's a beat of silence where I can only assume everyone in the room is staring at him because he lets out an indignant huff. "What? Two of you have kids. Mr. and Mrs. Scott have businesses to run, and Eli is what 20? Having me stay here with the two of them is the best choice. Ray is familiar with the layout and won't break an arm tripping over furniture and there will be someone here with working eyes to make sure if that shit stain shows up, he won't leave again intact."