Page 121 of Unforgivable

"Yo, Rhet, slow the fuck down. You're drawing too much attention."

I ease off the gas. We're about out of town already, clipping along through the neatly-laid out homes and well-tended streets towards the outskirts of town. This area used to be farms and lumber mills, but now, the remaining industries are to the south and west of town. This place has become a refuge for wolves that just don't quite fit in. Wolves who can't afford to live in the nicer parts of town because they can't pay the taxes. Some of them are just the odd, lone wolves that live in a pack but don't seem to belong.

The Jensen's live out here because they're too fucking uncivilized to be normal. They lived in the town years ago, but the boys are alcoholics that cause issues wherever they go. It's no surprise that both Brent and Cal showed up at Lyri's Shaming. They're scum of the first order.

"Fuck," Ezra groans when we can spot the Jensen property. Thjis beat us here. He and Carm went home to check on the ranch while I went to the clinic. He must have scented Cal there. I see Thjis, claws descended, fur sprouting from the backs of his hands and the sides of his face. His eyes glow madly as he stares down Beta Max with a feral ferocity that would worry me more if I didn't know that Carmichael is lurking around nearby, out of sight.

"Thjis," I shout my brother's name and leap from the truck as soon as I throw it into park.

"Brother," Thjis acknowledges. "We have some company. Did you know?"

I turn my head to see Ezra's grandfather emerge from the Jensen's home. Inwardly I groan. Elias, Ezra's grandfather, is a hothead. I like the old wolf. He supported Ezra when no one else in his family would. If he heard about his grandson's attack, he would want to avenge Ezra, estranged or not.

Ezra's entire family lives out here. They don't tend to cause trouble, but they also tend to buck the trend and have had some issues with authority. Ezra says he thinks his grandparents are closet doomsday preppers. I told him that it's not as hidden as he thinks. His family hoards shit that we wouldn't keep even on the ranch.

"Elias put the can down," Beta Max orders.

I look at Elias' hands as the sharp scent of gasoline hits me. Fuck.

"Tit for Tat, Beta," Elias snaps. "I don't have poison, but I can burn this piece-of-shit house down." It's a problem in a small town. News travels fast. Everybody knows everybody else's business real damn quick.

"Where is that fuckhead Cal?" I ask Thjis.

"Gone. Cleared out his shit and hightailed it north."

"Stupid of him," I mumble. He's running straight into the wild wolves that take trespassers real damn seriously.

Elias tries to pour out the container of gasoline on the rickety porch. Beta Max has two enforcers with him. The two males are trying to talk Elias down, but no one has jumped him yet. Elias is known for carrying knives on him. You have to approach the old geezer with caution. Ezra told me never to underestimate the old wolf. He's faster and meaner than he looks, which is interesting because he seems plenty mean.

"Honestly, the house could use some renovations," I muse out loud.

Thjis snorts, "it would be an improvement." The furious gleam in his eyes is dulling.

"You two need to let the authority of this pack handle Cal Jensen," Beta Max snaps at us. "All you're doing is riling up Elias more."

"Elias?" I shout.

"Yeah?" he swings the gasoline can like a garden hose, spraying the walls of the house, the porch, and the two enforcers.

"Where's the rest of the family?"

"Females are all with Nettie at home," he responds cheerfully. "Don't know where that dick, Cal, is. Haven't seen him in weeks."

"No signs of him living here anymore?" I ask in surprise. Fuck. We should have kept a closer eye on all of the fuckers that pose a risk to Lyri.

"Naw."

"Then why are you trying to burn their house down?" I ask him.

In his dirty overalls, with stains from goddess-knows-what, barefoot, no shirt, he looks at me like I'm the crazy one."Renovations. You heard your brother."

"Goddess, spare me."

"Hi, Gramps!" I hear Ezra holler from the truck. It certainly catches Elias' attention.

"Well, damn and howdy, Ez." Elias finally abandons his gas can and jogs over to the truck, bringing the acrid scent of gas with him. "Well, ain't she a pretty thing," Elias coos when he spots Lyri snuggled in his grandson's arms, a bit of drool leaking out of the corner of her mouth, her hair mussed and sticking up in places.

"She is, isn't she?" Ez says proudly.

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