"Holy shit!"

I hear Nate say again before putting the truck in park and getting out. I quickly tell the kids to stay in the car and follow him. What I see is enough to knock me to my knees.

Covering his front door are tons of pictures of my parents, my siblings, and me when we were younger. There's newspaper clippings about my parents' accident and more pictures from their funeral. There's over a hundred of these different photos and articles all pasted onto his front door and window. There are red letters over some of them that say '2 years', 'murderer', or 'it should've been you.' And if that wasn't enough, there, sitting on his front porch, is a bloody pig with a knife through it's heart.

I crumble to the ground and barely register the sounds of Keith and the rest of the gang getting out and coming to see what's the matter. I hear Nate's deep voice pulling me out of my impending panic attack as he stands and holds me up. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear Wyatt's frightened voice.

"Oh my god." I turn to see his face a deathly white.

"Wyatt. I told you to stay in the car!" I yell at him.

He doesn't reply, just continues to look at the horror on the door. I look around and see Candace clutching a very angry Keith's shirt, with tears streaming down her face. Tank, Mouse, and Nate all have on the same 'I'm going to kill someone' look and Wyatt still looks like he's going to pass out. Pushing away my own fear, I step into the role I've always had to take.

"Nate, we need to get the kids inside before they see this or Wyatt passes out." I say in a stern voice, making him swing his head to look down at me.

He nods his head and motions for Tank. Each man grabs a twin, making sure to shield their gaze of the front door, and Mouse helps Wyatt walk inside. Candace, Keith, and I follow them in through the garage and we all end up in the living room. Mouse sits Wyatt on the couch and the twins are set down in the big leather recliner. Once my very confused siblings are settled, Johnny turns to the group.

"What the hell did I just see? What's going on?" He asks no one in particular. It's silent for a few moments until Wyatt speaks up.

"Lainey. You need to tell them. Now." He says in a shaky voice but with a stern look towards me. All heads whip in my direction and Candace comes and wraps her arms around me.

"He's right. It's time." She says softly to me.

"Tell us what? Angel, what the hell is going on and what does it have to do with everything outside?" Nate asks in a tone full of worry, confusion, and anger. I look at Candace and Wyatt who both just nod their heads. Slowly, I move towards Katie and Dylan and bend down to their level.

"Hey bug. Dyl. I need you guys to go upstairs for a little bit. Here, take my phone and don't come down until I get you, ok? Just like we used to do at home." I say and watch as they stand up and leave the room.

It isn't until I hear their door shut upstairs that I stand from my crouched position and turn to face everyone. All have worry and anger mixed into their features and the three guys are looking at me with questions on their faces. I take a long sigh and begin my story.

"2 years ago today my parents died in a car crash. They were on an icy road and swerved to miss a deer but the car rolled off the road. They were only on that road because they were getting me a treat for babysitting the kids. That's why everything is outside. It was my fault they were on that road and clearly someone agrees." I watch as all five people go to argue with me, but I hold up a hand and continue.

"I don't need pity or anyone's argument. Whether it's true or not, someone thinks it was my fault and that's what all those word, pictures, and ... blood are for." I say with hesitation on the last part.

"Who in their right mind would think that was your fault, much less do something as horrific as that?" Nate asks in an angry tone. I let out another sigh and look to Wyatt who gives me another nod as a silent form of encouragement.

"After my parents died, the police came to get us. As far as we knew, we didn't have any other family, so we were put into the system. We stayed at this temporary group home for about a week before CPS came back and told us we actually had an Uncle who lived a couple towns over from here, in Texas. We were moved out to live with him and a little less than a year ago, we moved with him here."

"It sounded like the perfect situation. We wouldn't be separated in foster care and our parents had always loved Texas, even if we did have to live with an uncle we barely knew. The problem was, there was a reason we didn't know our uncle existed. He's... well he's not a very nice man." I watch as realization hits on the guys' faces and their muscles tense in anger.

"The bruises and injuries." Nate states more than asks. I nod my head anyways and continue on.

"From the second we moved in with him he hated us. He would leave us for days on end and come back drunk. He really couldn't care less whether we lived or died. I got a job and took the 'parental' role so we wouldn't starve. Unfortunately that just made Dorian, our uncle, more angry."

"The beatings started a few months after my parents' death. He would come home drunk and angry every night and take it out on us. Since I was the oldest, I took the brunt of it. It wasn't difficult, I just had to remind him that I'm the reason his brother is dead."

I look at the group and see Nate, Hayes, Johnny, and Keith all with glares of pure rage and fists clenched. They look ready to kill someone and I don't think they would hesitate for a second if my uncle walked through the door. Wyatt and Candace both hold looks of anger too but theirs are also full of sympathy and understanding, since they already knew. After a few minutes of nobody talking or moving, I decide to continue on with my life story.

"Those are what the bruises you saw are from and everything else. It was all a consequence of his drunken rage. That day you guys came home from the snow, Candace and I were taking so long because I had to tell her everything. She had walked in on me looking at my wounds from his latest abuse. I couldn't go to the snow that day because I had to take $200 over to Dorian. He wasn't happy about the whole situation and he beat me so bad I passed out. I woke up close to 4 but didn't get home in time for Candace not to see me." I watch as Wyatt's face turns into one of understanding and guilt.

"Oh, Laine. I'm so sorry. That was all my fault." He replies with unshed tears in his eyes.

"No. It's ok Wy. I made the choice to go over there. I don't blame you for a second." I say to him. His look of sorrow and guilt doesn't leave but he motions for me to finish.

"Anyways. Candace saw me and called me on my bullshit, then told me her story of abuse. She made me promise to stay here with you, Nate, and to not see my uncle again. I made her promise not to tell anyone and then she helped me hide the bruises. I think the shit show outside is because my uncle is mad he hasn't had anyone to beat on. It's the anniversary of my parents' death, so I guess he just took it a little harder." I reply and wait for someone to say something. No one does. They all just stand stoic with their fists clenched and the pissed off glares on their faces.

"I'm sorry you all had to see that, but I didn't think he would take it that far." Still nothing from anyone.

Wyatt and Candace sit on the couch next to each other and we all watch as everything I've said sets in. All four boys remain unmoving and seem to get angrier with each passing moment. I'm about to ask them to say something when I hear a scary, menacing growl come from Nathan, right before he starts moving towards the door.

"I'm going to kill that fucker."

Oh shit!