Not My Brute (Angels of War Series #2)

Chapter Fourteen

My mother loves a drink. Don't get me wrong; it's not to the point of being a problem. She just enjoys letting her hair down. It's hilarious at times as her filter seems to disappear and she babbles about things she never should, spilling secrets that could curl your hair.

Allie, her book club friend fills her wine glass to the top when it's half-empty. "You can't stop there! You're just getting to the juicy bits."

And, that's my cue to find the toilet. I've been holding on for a while.

Mum glances at me and lets out a drunk snort. "This bit isn't for my daughter's ears."

I hold up my hands. "Spare me the embarrassment, please. I'll go find the bathroom."

"Up the stairs and it's the second door on the left, sweetheart. My son is up there in his bedroom if you get lost."

I smile and stand up. "Great, thanks, Allie."

Entering the hallway, I take the stairs two at a time, running my hand along the rail. I find the bathroom right away, jiggling the handle when it appears to be locked.

Standing back, I wait for whoever's in there and pass the time by staring at the paintings on the wall. The bolt makes a loud noise which drags my attention away from the painting of the woman stroking a dog. I get ready to smile at the person stepping out of the bathroom, but it falls when I see who it is.

Bret.

We stare at one another for a good few seconds. He speaks up. "What're you doing in my mother's house?"

"Allie's your mum?" small world, or what?

Bret frowns and it isn't until then that I realise he's on a crutch and his prosthetic is missing. "Yeah, you didn't answer my question," he starts to get agitated when he sees me looking at his legs.

I avert my eyes, not wanting to seem rude. It's never polite to stare, my dad always used to tell me. It's true. "I'm here for her book club party. She and my mum are good friends."

"Oh," he responds, letting on to his grisliness.

It's suddenly very awkward and I'm thinking of ways to escape. But, there's something telling me to stop here and talk to him a little longer. "You're staying here now? What happened to your house share?"

Bret's expression turns neutral when he begins to talk, the ticking of his jaw the only sign of emotion. "My roommate was a dick and his girlfriend was an even bigger dick. I don't want to be around that, especially when I'm paying over the odds for a piece of shit house."

O-Kay then.

I try and lighten the mood, knowing that I'll probably regret it right away. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with moving back with your parents. I'm currently in the same situation."

Bret's thick eyebrows come together in the middle when he frowns at my words. "What happened to your boyfriend."

I cross my arms over my chest. "I no longer have a boyfriend."

"You don't?" he responds, shaking his head afterwards. "That's why you should never bring kids into a relationship. It only ends up hurting them."

My actions have disappointed him. I can tell. Or, is he projecting? Maybe he's not happy with his ex-wife's relationship concerning his son.

A fire burns in the back of my throat and I suddenly want to push him so he'll fall back into the doorframe. "Excuse me. It would be worse for those kids if I stayed. It's not healthy for them to be around a toxic relationship. They're resilient. They get over things faster than we do."