My Severe Brother

ch 5: Rules

Peter's pov

I gathered the empty plate and headed towards the kitchen, anticipation of a simple task overshadowed by two stern-faced men. Their angry glares and curt words hinted at something unsettling.

"What happened?" I queried, attempting to understand the tense atmosphere.

"Nothing, just return to your food and close the door." Their terse response was laced with a warning.

"Don't cause us trouble too." One of them added, his gaze hardened.

"Did he kill them?" I dared to ask, a sense of dread looming.

"Yes, I did." Cole's cold voice cut through from the other side.

No! This couldn't be real. It was too cruel.

The two men straightened at the sound of his voice, an undeniable authority radiating from him. As he approached, he commanded, "Go inside and shut your hole."

"And the plates?" I questioned, reluctant to comply.

"Leave the fuck there." His brusque response grated on my nerves.

"No!" I retorted, an irritated defiance surfacing.

"No one says 'No' to me." His chuckle held a sinister edge. 

I rolled my eyes at him, a momentary lapse in judgment that earned me a harsh grip on my face. "Look, shit, I don't want to hit your fucking ass until you blackout again. Don't test my fucking anger; you won't like it. NOW GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY COMPLAINING. Am I clear?" His stern tone reverberated through me, and I nodded in acquiescence.

He released me, and I hurriedly retreated into my room, slamming the door shut. Alone once more, I grappled with the surreal reality of being related to him. 

Why didn't my mom tell me about him?

How in hell we are brothers? I am sure there's a mistake. He can't be my brother.

Maybe his dad has business with my mom then he didn't want to accept me so she took me and left or maybe they had business but broke up and mom left without knowing she is pregnant. I am bemused and I want some answers. I don't want to be his brother.

Two hours later™

He barged into my room without the courtesy of knocking. I glared at him, daring to challenge his intrusion.

"You don't hear about knocking?" I challenged, a boldness seeping into my tone.

"It's my house, I can do whatever I want." His response carried an air of entitlement.

"I don't like staying in your house." My discontent was evident.

"No one asked for your opinion. You are staying here whether you like it or not." His authority asserted itself.

"Oh yeah, staying like a prisoner?" I questioned, unyielding.

"I'll treat you like I want. Don't say he finds out I'm his brother, then he can't hit the shit out of me. I can easily take your soul." His menacing threat lingered.

"So do it." My defiance echoed through the room.

"Not now, we have time. Let me explain to you the rules in this house." He proceeded to outline a list of rules, each more suffocating than the last.

"I don't care, I like my rules," I protested.

"Feel free to wander around, just steer clear of the third floor, my chill zone, and the office. Entertainment? Go wild for three hours—TV, Xbox, Switch, PlayStation, you name it. Calls? Pick up the house phone; it's a thing. Answer them like your life depends on it. Misbehave, interfere, question, sass – it's all a no-go." He ignored my comment and started enumirating the rules.