Page 91 of Unspoken Rules

Cole stays behind him, looking unsure of what to do. Defend me. Or stay on his son’s side.

“I’m leaving,” I say carefully. “Just needed to get my stuff.”

It’s a lie, but it’s for the best. It’s like he doesn’t even hear me though.

“I can’t believe you are in my house!” he shouts, moving toward me, but Cole jolts forward, grabbing him around the waist and tugging him back.

“You are not fighting in my house,” Cole growls.

“Get the fuck off me!” Chris screams, fighting to get out of his father’s hold. Cole gives him a little shove to the side and Chris steps forward. I can see his split lip and bruised eye from here.

“Fuck both of you,” he seethes. “Especially you!” He points in Cole’s face. “Especially you,” he repeats, this time more quietly. He shakes his head. “I’m going to stay with mom. Should’ve done it years ago.”

“Christopher—” Cole starts.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Chris bellows, glaring at Cole. He walks toward me again, but I can see he’s going upstairs by his avoidance. He storms up the stairs and all I can do is stand there. Chris goes into his room, slamming the door. I turn my attention to Cole, watching as he paces and runs his hands through his hair. Chris is in his room less than five minutes before coming back down, carrying a backpack and a large duffel bag. I’m still standing on the stairs, in the same place I was when he went up.

When Chris reaches the bottom, Cole stops at the end of the hall toward the living room, watching him. Chris turns to me, glaring.

“Have fun staying in my house. Living with my father. Maybe you can be the son you think he deserves,” he spits out before storming past Cole and going out the door.

Cole goes after him and I move after them both, not needing them fighting in the street. That’ll really get Chris arrested. He’s lucky he didn’t get arrested tonight. Security watched the video and saw he went after me first. They wanted to call the cops.

I stand in the doorway, trying to hide so Chris doesn’t flip out over seeing me again. Seems I’m a trigger for him when he’s drunk, which is bullshit. All I’ve done is try to help him. Be his friend.

“Where are you going? You can’t drive like this!” Cole shouts, throwing his arms in the air.

“Fuck you, Cole,” Chris mutters.

He must’ve called a rideshare when he was up in his room, or maybe it’s one of his friends, but a black Honda pulls up and he gets in. Then he’s gone.

Cole whirls and comes back inside, slamming the door shut.

“What the fuck happened?” he barks at me. I wince and step back.

“Don’t yell at me like this is my fault!” I argue.

He frowns, holds my stare for a long moment, then lets out a harsh breath. His hands are on his hips and his head falls back on his shoulders. “You’re right, I’m sorry. This is just… too fucking much. This is all too much.”

He sits in the armchair and I go to the kitchen to get us each a water. I give him one and then sit on the couch.

“He was drinking again. Being a dick. We got into a fight at Mark’s show.”

“Like an argument?”

I shake my head, opening my water. “No, like we threw punches.”

“Fucking hell. I thought those bruises were from someone else.”

“I’m sure I’ll have some tomorrow.”

“What exactly happened? What was he being a dick about?”

I grit my teeth, not even wanting to think about it. The anger in his voice when he said that shit to Mila? He’s so fucked. I’m not sure I can forgive him for that.

“He called Mila an uptight bitch.”

Cole rears his head back. “My son called one of his best friends an uptight bitch?”

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