Bad Bets (Bad News Series Book 3) *Under Major Edit*

Chapter 17

“Vodka?” Cole asked, raising a bottle and a glass up in the direction of Isabella.

Her mouth dropped open in astonishment causing him to chuckle and place it back down on the side.

“No Vodka.” He concluded.

Pouring himself one, he then got a bottle of the water and made his way over to take a seat next to Isabella, handing her the bottle as he did so.

“I just don’t get it.” She breathed, staring blankly into the space in front of her.

“I do. He’s a dick.” Cole said with a smug smile, before swigging back a shot glass.

They were both in his room, trying to figure out what tonight had been all about. To understand what it possibly could be that was making George act the way he was.

“He’s not.” Isabella mumbled, shaking her head even though she was finding it more and more difficult to stick up for him. She could tell the guys had completely lost all patience with him and it was only a matter of time before they gave up all together.

She didn’t know how much longer she could continue until she lost all hope.

“He’s your husband, father of your child, your one true love and all that shit. I get it…” Cole began. “Well actually I don’t get it but I will pretend to.”

Standing to his feet he made his way back over to the kitchen area, filling his glass once again before sitting back down beside Isabella.

“But that doesn’t give him a get out of jail free card sweetheart.”

Cole’s whole aura was always full of sarcasm, spite or tension. The way he carried himself seemed to be an inherited Gibson gene, pure confidence and determination. But as much as many of his qualities would be noted as negative, he did make a lot of sense.

“I know… but I can’t just give up.” Isabella stressed, placing the bottle back on the table and slouching against the sofa.

“He forced you to the floor and didn’t look back. I’m not saint but I wouldn’t call that a loveable gesture.” The side of his lip turned up.

“He was in pain, he looked like he had been shot. Maybe he was in a rush…?”

Isabella continuingly tried to reason an explanation but it was clear to even her that they were hopeless.

“Stop.” Cole held a finger up, waiting for her to silence.

Frowning at him she began looking around the room awkwardly while she waited for him to say something, but all he gave her was quiet.

“What?”

Holding up his finger once again, this time he placed it over her lip as he looked towards the door.

As the footsteps got louder Isabella finally caught on with what he was listening out for.

“Wait there.” He said, getting up off the sofa and pulling open the door with no reluctance.

As expected when he looked down the corridor he saw George rushing up, looking out of breath and drunk. Completely away from reality.

“Stop walking.” Cole demanded, tilting his head to the side as George looked to him.

“Where’s Isabella?” He spat, not listening to his instructions as he continued to pace closer.

“Stop fucking walking Shelley.” Cole’s eyes were now dark with anger yet he wasn’t seeming to get through.