“It’ll be plenty for Rhett.”
Crap. Crap. Crap. It might be. And Rhett might break the guy’s rib to make a point. Ezra tried to get up, but Mom held him still as Dad rounded the table and took Trevor by the shoulders.
“Think it through, son. Not just heart, head too.”
Trevor bared his teeth, though not at Dad. A long pained growl filled the room. “He hurt Ez.”
“I know that. Now come back to the table and sit with us. Please.”
Trevor looked past Dad to meet Ezra’s eyes. Ezra shook his head.
“I want to burn his house down,” Trevor said.
“I want you to let it go,” Ezra said. “It’s Willow’s house too, remember.”
“Not anymore. They kicked her out.”
“Come on, bro. I’m not hurt.”
Trevor gave a low snarl of disagreement. Then slowly he bowed his head and nodded, and Dad let him go. Ezra tucked his chin and stared at the table. Maybe he shouldn’t have talked until Trevor went home.
“I didn’t mean to rile anybody,” Ezra said quietly as Dad and Trevor resumed their seats. “But it’s got into me, and I know I’ve got to put it away. And I couldn’t until I said it out loud. What they did to my mate…and…and to me too.”
Mom patted his arm. “Is it helping, to say it out loud?”
“I think so. My chest’s not so locked down.”
“Have you told us everything?”
“Almost.” Suddenly his chest swamped with an acute ache, and he closed his eyes. Words were the only thing left. They shouldn’t hurt more than the blows of a fist. “He called me…her dad called me a…a dirty werewolf, and…and if we have a baby, he called it a…a filthy hybrid.” He tried to squeeze his eyes shut, but twin tears fell anyway and landed on the tabletop. “He called me a dirty werewolf, Mama.”
“Oh, son.” Her arms came around him, held him, as a few more tears escaped. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“They’re just words,” he said, swiping at his tears.
“They’re cruel words, Ezra.”
“But you raised me.” He kept talking though tears kept falling. He had to figure it out, this puzzle that made no sense. “You loved me and taught me from a pup. I’ve always known the pride of the wolf, in our power, in what we are.”
“Yes,” Dad said, his voice a deep rumble of…pain? Was he hurt because Ezra was hurting? “And that love, that teaching, gives you strength to walk on, to leave their words in the dust behind you. But it doesn’t make you invincible, son. You’re still going to hurt when these words are thrown at you.”
“I don’t want it to hurt.”
A low rumble came from Dad, amusement this time along with his sadness. “If you crack that code, I wish you’d let me know.”
His parents’ words and his own tears rinsed the words of Willow’s dad clean out of him. They left his chest wide open. He didn’t cry long, never had. In a minute he lifted his head, and Mom let him go. She kept her hand on his arm though, patted at intervals.
“It’s okay,” he said before she had to ask. “I feel okay now. Not balled up like before.”
“Well, good,” Mom said with another pat. “And just to make it plain, I’m with Trevor on this one.”
Trevor had sat silently, shoulders hunched, for the last few minutes. At Mom’s words, he looked up. “Yeah?”
Mom nodded. “I’d gain great pleasure in a little arson right now.”
“Rhett could—”
She reached out her other hand and grasped Trevor’s wrist when he began to rise. “But it wouldn’t be smart. And it wouldn’t be right.”
