Page 116 of Grin and Bear It

“That’s that fucking teacher!” Jimmy crowed, his boys clustering closer, then pulling out their phones to snap photos. “What’s her name?”

“The Year 10 history teacher?” one of the guys asked, peering at the painting. “Fuck, Miss… Miss… James?”

“Jennings!” another boy crowed. “Fuck, she made me pick up all the rubbish off my table the other day and she was doing this shit? Dirty bitch.”

“What a fucking slut,” Jimmy agreed, tapping on his photos and that’s when a shout of protest rose in Declan’s chest, ready to be let out, but something choked it off.

This was wrong, bad. He shouldn’t be in here and neither should Jimmy. Declan felt like he’d stumbled onto some other side of the adults in his life, something that wasn’t completely unexpected, and yet still completely alienating. He didn’t want to look at the painting. He didn’t have Miss Jennings as a teacher, but she always seemed nice when she talked to him. Not someone who deserved this. The boys dissected her body and Tyson’s because that was who else was in the painting, giving a crude commentary on the scene that might have inspired the artwork.

“So one of their uncles painted this shit while the other was ploughing that heifer?” Jimmy said, wrinkling his nose. “Fuck, gross.”

“Is that what she does? Comes around here and gets passed around like meat from one guy to the next?” another guys said. “Fucking sick, dude.”

They weren’t just talking about Ellie now, who Declan knew was Nash and his sleuth’s mate. They were talking about his mum and all the other bear shifter mums out there, who all lived in similar situations and that’s when he snapped.

“Get. Out.”

More bear than boy, his voice reverberated throughout the whole studio, forcing the older boys to stop.

“Chill out, Dec—” Jimmy said with a frown.

“Get out now!”

The lot of them moved without thinking, the primal lizard part of their brains registering the threat Declan posed, their feet taking them out of the studio and across the grass.

Declan closed his eyes against the painting, turning around and flicking off the lights before closing the door and putting what remained of the lock back in the hasp. He returned the bolt cutters to the garage and then went back into the house.

“What the fuck happened with Jimmy and his boys?” Knox asked when Declan joined him in the kitchen. “They ran out of here like their arses were on fire.”

“Nothing,” Declan lied, then forced himself to smile. “But we need to wrap this shit up. It’s gotten out of hand and you don’t want your uncles to come back and find fifty million kids in the house.”

“Yeah.” Knox nodded slowly, then eyed the crowds. “Alright, everyone get the fuck out! Party’s over. Don’t make me call the cops.”

It took some work, but they finally dislodged everyone, cleaning up the house and the mess left until you’d have struggled to find clues that the place had been packed half an hour before. Knox and Declan ate some of the pizza that was left over, the rest of the boxes stuffed deep into the bin, when Maddox appeared warily.

“You kicked everyone out?” he asked his brother.

“Shit got out of hand.” Knox was all nonchalance as he shrugged, then he pushed a pizza box his brother’s way. “Saved you a Hawaiian pizza. No one else wants that pineapple flavoured shit.”

“‘Cos their tastebuds are in their arses like yours.” Maddox dared a smile, settling down at the table and pulling the pizza closer.

“Quiet night?” Nash asked, strolling in the door, but both boys noted the spring in their uncle’s step, the broad smile. He ruffled their hair like he had when they were much younger. “You two should be in bed. You’ve got school tomorrow.”

Knox groaned but Maddox nodded.

“Hope you had a good night, Uncle Nash,” he said.

“The best,” Nash replied as the others came walking in the door, sporting the same elated expressions.

Chapter58

I get that Colleen felt like going out for dinner was special, but in some ways this was far weightier for me. I’d put each doom pile into the boxes she provided for me, the guys hovering, wanting to help. But when I was done, they took them from me, stacking them up by the dining room wall and then went to work cleaning off the tabletop. I finished peeling the spuds, putting them in the saucepan to boil first, to pre-cook them, then going to the linen cupboard and pulling out a table cloth. Flicking that out and laying it on the table, the guys coming behind with plates and cutlery, felt like a much bigger deal because we were the ones performing each step. But when I returned to the kitchen to finishing prepping the rest of the vegetables, I had company.

“Let me,” Tyson insisted, plucking the peeler from my grip and then picking up the bag of carrots and going to work.

“But—” I started to protest.

“I’m a dab hand at carving up pumpkin,” Lin said, stealing the knife and chopping board and setting up on his side of the kitchen bench. “Chunks about this size?” He indicated how big with a thumb and a forefinger.

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