Chapter 7- Russell

Russ leaned back in the wooden chair and watched lazily as Carter closed the windows in the living room. She’d been flitting through the house since he arrived. She could never sit still when she was thinking about something. Russell smiled uneasily.
“Jack, come sit down,” he said, taking a sip of iced tea next to him. Carter ignored him, wiping an imaginary spot on the kitchen counter.
Rolling his eyes, Russ leaned over, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her firmly down on his lap.
“Russell!” she scolded, trying to break free. He struggled to hold her back.
“Shh,” he cooed mockingly, “sleepy time for the kitten.” He made a purring noise deep in his throat, nuzzling her face. Carter blushed and bit his nose. They both giggled and kissed. It was, quite simply, disgusting. Russell was enjoying himself, however.
“Now, what has made my little kitten so upset?” Russell whispered in her ear, smiling slightly. Carter, turning a pinkish color, managed to wrench herself off of the werewolf. Sniffing loudly in attempt to gain some dignity, Carter dropped herself in the opposing kitchen chair and sipped from Russell’s cup of iced tea.
“Nothing is wrong. I am perfectly fine, thank you.” Russell rolled his eyes.
“Come on, Jack. I’m not blind.” Carter sighed, looking away. Her fingers drummed nervously on the tabletop. Russell took her hand in his.
Carter sighed. “Spirit. I didn’t know he was back in town,” she muttered quietly as if he were in the room with them. Russ leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips, thinking.
“I imagine that was a shock for you. I mean, what was he doing in the den, anyway?” Russ scowled. Carter nodded wondering the same thing.
At that moment, little Thomas Carter came out from his bedroom. He was still in the clothes he’d worn the night before to the club, and he smelled foul.
Thomas stopped in front of the table and squinted at Carter as if trying to get her in focus. Carter stared back. Russell looked between the two anxiously. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he decided it was best not to involve him self. He took another swallow of iced tea.
“Where are my car keys?” Thomas asked. His voice was unsteady and raspy as if he had an infected throat. Russell raised an eyebrow and looked at Carter for her answer. Carter did not look pleased.
“Why would you need car keys? You’re not driving when you’re completely sloshed like this,” she snapped, narrowing her eyes up at Thomas. Russell had learned long ago that when her eyes got beady, she was pissed.
“It’s none of your business. I know you took them,” Thomas replied smoothly.
“Get bent,” Carter muttered.
Thomas just laughed, “Shut up and give them to me, you pathetic female pig.” Carter stood from her seat. Russell got up too, preparing to hold her back if necessary. He glanced between the two siblings anxiously.
Jackie’s anger was clear on her expression. Thomas, however, had a taunting grin on his face. His shoulders were tensed prepared for onslaught.
“You’re not going anywhere, because I hid your keys, little brother,” Jackie informed him acid lacing her words. Thomas narrowed his eyes looking very similar to his sister.
“I see… And what makes you think I couldn’t just…take them?” he whispered dangerously. He took a step closer so he and his sister were nearly touching. Russell tensed even further. He knew he should let the two siblings work this out, but if anyone threatened his mate…
Suddenly, Thomas banged his hands loudly on the table either side of Carter. Russell jumped a small snarl escaping his throat. Carter was just as surprised. Thomas’s eyes were narrowed and his teeth were bared like fangs. He had her trapped against the wood.
“Don’t keep trying to order me around…worthless female.” Thomas stepped away and walked back to his bedroom. The door clicked quietly.
Russell wasn’t sure what to do at first. He stiffly put a hand on his mate’s shoulder in attempt to comfort her. However, she looked like she wasn’t even paying attention.
“Jackie…?” he started.
“There was a scar on his hand.”
“Uhm…a what?”
“A scar… on his hand,” she repeated.
“What do you mean?” Russell asked, nonplussed.
Jackie looked up at him and locked eyes. “Spirit has a scar just like it on his hand,” she whispered.