Chapter 5
Bailey
Cole pulls up in the alley behind our houses instead of on the street. I’m about to ask him why, when I catch sight of his dad standing on the back porch, staring us down with murder in his eyes.
“f**k,” Cole mutters.
His dad looks off. Sweaty. Red-faced. Disheveled clothing and hair. He’s holding the customary beer bottle in his hand.
Chills run down my arms. Is Cole going to be in trouble for coming home with me—the enemy’s daughter—in his truck?
“Get out, Pink,” he says tightly, not taking his eyes off his dad.
I don’t wait. I dive out of the truck and jog around the far side of my house away from Cole’s house to the front door. Even though it feels like I severed a limb and left it in Cole’s cab, I’m almost grateful for the sudden parting. It saves me the awkwar
