Page 41 of Coaching Prince Charming

“What?” But as I asked, I remembered.

Dana rushed into the living room and returned even faster. “This is his guitar, you son of a bitch.”

I fought against my eyes closing in surrender. My heart sank so low that my stomach throbbed with each heartbeat. Fuck. “Dana…”

“Don’t you fucking say a word to me,” Dana yelled. “Is he here? Does he live with you now? What the fuck is going on, Partridge?”

“Calm down,” I said firmly, but Dana was off the rails. “Calm the fuck down, or I’ll get the security to drag your ass out.”

Dana held the guitar by its neck as he stormed toward me. He stopped two feet away. “You can try,” he said venomously, “but they won’t get here in time. Truth, Partridge. I want the truth. Now.”

“Truth?” I asked. “The truth is that you’re bullying your son, and you’re going to break him. And I won’t fucking let you. Not on my watch, Dana.”

His eyes widened as he looked from me to the guitar. Anger faded as something far worse came over his face. Horror. The slow realization opened the doors to blind rage that contorted his face. “You’re sleeping with him,” he said, almost breathless.

I should have acted offended, put up a fight, but the accusation seemed so impossibly undeniable that I only pressed my lips tighter.

It was as good as a confirmation. A moment too late, I knew that for a fact.

“I’m going to kill you!” Dana swung the guitar before I could lift my arms or leap away. The hollow instrument hit the side of my right arm, and my elbow bent to take the brunt of it. Wood splintered, and a horrible crashing sound was mixed with the strings that briefly vibrated on impact.

Before I knew it, I was hurtling to my left, arms reaching to grab onto something. I wasn’t even aware of the pain in my elbow as I grabbed the back of a chair by the kitchen island. It tipped under my weight, only complicating my fall as I tangled my arm around it.

Tossing the guitar’s neck aside, Dana leaped after me, his weight crashing against my body as a fist met my cheekbone.

No, I thought as I realized there was a third voice in the cacophony of misery in the room. Between my grunts and Dana’s curses, Carter’s pleading voice cut through the air as he grabbed his father’s arm. “Stop, Dad. Stop! Don’t hurt him.”

Dana’s broad chest heaved with every breath as he looked furiously from me to his son.

Carter had never looked more beautiful. The defiant way he held his chin high as if he could stand up to Dana, the mournful look in his eyes, the knowledge that everything we’d had was gone… I hated how pretty he was when sadness dominated his face.

He had walked out of the bedroom to stop his father. And my heart discovered new depths to sink into.

If there had been any way to use Dana’s overreaction and anger against him, to deny and lie and save Carter from this, it was all gone now. He offered himself to Dana in order to protect me.

That wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

He was the beautiful one, the vulnerable one, the one in need of a protector. And I had failed him.

TWELVE

Carter

“Please,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision.

Dad’s red face darkened, his fist trembling as I held on to his forearm. I tugged him back, and he stood up, freeing Nate, who sprawled on the floor and grunted.

I didn’t dare let go of Dad’s arm, but I had to if I were going to help Nate up. My entire body screamed with the need to go to him. A cut on his cheekbone was bleeding, but not too much. I’d gotten worse from a misplaced stick. Even so, seeing him on the floor broke my heart.

I had no doubt that Nate could have defended himself if he had chosen to. The fact that he hadn’t only cemented my feelings for this man. It wasn’t something my dad could ever understand.

When Dad pulled a few steps back, I released his arm and hurried to Nate. Helping him up, I wanted to touch his cheek, but he recoiled.

“I could kill you now,” Dad growled with so much hatred that it scared me. Part of me believed he was telling the truth, even as I tried to convince myself it was just a hyperbole.

“Stop,” I pleaded again. “Can we talk about this like adults?”

Dad’s eyes flashed with anger. “We cannot. Carter, go downstairs and wait for me.”

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