Page 59 of Smoke Show

"Scott," she said, sounding stilted.

Mr. and Mrs. Masterson didn't pick up on the tension, but I recognized the strain in Eve. Whoever the new man was, Eve knew him and despised him.

"You know my brother, Eve?" Mrs. Masterson asked. "Small world. He's visiting from the west side for a few days. We decided to do a late Thanksgiving celebration so he could catch the play."

"Eve." The other man nodded, looking down his patrician nose as if it pained him to acknowledge her. "So this is where you skittered off to."

I didn't like the mocking edge to his words. Judging by the way she stiffened, Eve didn't either.

Driven to protect her, I extended my hand, crushing the interloper's fingers in a punishing grip. Toxic masculinity at its finest. And I couldn't bring myself to give a damn, given the way Mrs. Masterson's brother was disrespecting Eve.

"Brady Gleason, Principal of McDonald High."

"Scott Morris. I'm actually on the school board at home." He glanced at Eve, the hint of a taunt in his expression. "Eve used to teach in our district. She was quite talented."

Something about the faint smirk in his expression sent threads of violence curling through me. Pieces of the puzzle clicked together, and I frowned. Scott was part of the past Eve had tried to escape. Shit luck that he'd arrived on her doorstep. Maybe Scott was used to a position of power in Sammamish, but if he pushed it, he'd find out the hard way that Eve had friends in Campfire. She hadme.

"She's beyond talented and we’re lucky to have her," I said. "If you'll excuse us, I need Eve for a minute."

Quickly, I ushered her up the stairs and behind the curtains, one hand on her back. Eve trembled beneath my palm, her full-body shakes filling me with an impotent rage. She was still paper white.

"Are you okay?" I asked, knowing in my gut that she wasn't. This wasn't my Eve. Usually feisty and more than capable of standing up for herself, intolerant of bullies, Eve looked like a shadow of her usual self.

"Can we talk about it later?" she asked, a note of pleading in her eyes.

I hated seeing her this way, but I also wanted to protect her privacy. Students milled around, packing up their costumes. It was hardly the time or place for a real discussion.

"When we get home," I said. "Do you need another minute, or do you want to come with me while I finish clearing everyone out?"

She mustered a smile. Shaky around the edges, but still a smile.

"I want to come. I haven't seen Gwen or Izzy yet."

I pulled her to me in a quick hug. It lasted a moment too long for decorum, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Eve needed the comfort.

"Okay," I said, releasing her.

We rejoined the stragglers from the audience, Eve making a beeline for Gwen and Izzy, who stood with Ivan and Zander. I followed, trying to look casual, even as I wanted to lurk protectively. I scanned, but slimy Scott and the Masterson family must have left. I rolled my shoulders, willing myself to relax, as I rejoined Eve.

"Hey, guys." I nodded to the group.

"Brady, that was great," Gwen complimented. "Quite the show."

"Thanks, Gwen. I couldn't have done it without Eve."

"I especially liked the way you ingratiated yourself in every element of the story. It was almost as if you were watching over every scene together," Zander said, eyes dancing with laughter.

He was the first person brave enough to say something to my face. It was on the tip of my tongue to compliment him, but Eve beat me to it.

"Yes, Brady took his duties to the play very seriously. I, however, did not," she added with a grin. "Someday, he'll learn never to mess with an artist."

I hid my laugh behind a cough as Gwen elbowed Zander. With Eve and Gwen to protect my honor, I hardly needed to respond. Relieved to see more color in Eve's face, I relaxed.

Zander held up his hands. "Consider me warned."

Izzy arched her brows, looking pointedly at her brother-in-law. "You'll want to be very careful in future, Zander. Now that we have a better understanding of Eve's talents, you might find yourself on the wrong end of them."

Zander snorted. "Is that your way of telling me that your sisterhood of the wine-soaked campfire is going to be gunning for me?"

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