Free Poughkeepsie Begins (The Poughkeepsie Brotherhood #0.5) by Debra Anastasia

claiming to love all the messy versions he came up with. He would excuse himself from the makeshift salon when Rick headed out of the house, pent-up rage on his face.
    Tonight he followed his foster father into the woodshed at the back of the property, hands in his pockets. Rick was more keyed up than usual, but luckily he was also exhausted from a long day of working on the ranch. And although the location had changed, Rick still had the worst, hateful words for him while Cole took the blows.
    It was obvious now: Rick sounded just like Ethel. Same phrasing even. They would make a great case study. But tonight, only the cracks of Rick’s fists on Cole’s flesh mattered. Inside his head, Cole felt like a sick freak because the pain made him feel alive. He was almost grateful to Rick for bringing him to his knees.
    Then Wintery cracked open the woodshed door, her eyes wide. Rick happened to be in between blows, so he stilled. Summer would have stomped right into the room, but Wintery shuffled, her rubber band tight in her fist like a ticket for entry. Cole stood and walked toward her.
    “Hey, did your braid come loose? I can help you put it back in a minute. Meet me at the house?”
    She nodded, somber eyes looking from him to Rick and back again. Despite his direction, Wintery didn’t move. Cole was slow because his headspace was so completely different when he was at Rick’s mercy. But finally he put it together. It was dark outside, and she was probably frightened to make the walk alone. She’d gotten here, but getting back would be tougher.
    As he turned to explain to Rick that he would be right back, he caught the man raising his hand in his peripheral vision. Wintery cowered as the shadow from his intended violence shaded her face.
    Cole caught Rick’s arm on its downward trajectory. He stepped between Rick’s feet and let his eyes go vacant. His lack of fear, lack of remorse was the scariest thing most adults had ever seen. If there were an image next to the words stone cold crazy in the dictionary, it would certainly be the expression on Cole’s face.
    “You will not.” His voice he kept calm for her. But Cole’s eyes held all the untamed violence he knew he was capable of.
    The whiskey scent rolled out of Rick’s mouth with every exhale. “She needs to learn. Just like I’m teaching you.” Rick focused on Cole’s nose, sweat making his skin slippery under Cole’s grip.
    “Cole?” Wintery gasped.
    He recognized it like a soundtrack to the cage where he’d spent so many hours. He let go of Rick and spun, picking up the little girl and stepping toward the door. “Let’s get you inside,” he whispered near her ear, ignoring the jabs of pain he normally nursed with help of Blake’s first aid.
    “I’ll tell you when you can leave.” Rick staggered toward them.
    When Cole was about to open the door, he saw Wintery flinch. He pulled her close to his chest as he turned, and the blow hit him in the center of his back. It took his breath away. The pain rippled through him, and Wintery whimpered, sounding too scared to even cry.
    Cole walked as Rick’s fists began their rain on his back. He opened the door to the shed, keeping Wintery firmly in the cavity of his chest. She yipped and gasped, Rick’s blow glancing her leg as it slipped from his rib.
    He turned her, pulling her legs from around his middle so she was a little ball in his arms. He began to jog as he hit the night air. After a minute he got her to the backdoor. “You hurt?” he asked.
    Wintery’s eyes were rimmed with tears as she pointed to her calf. He held her under the porch light and could see a bruise starting to form.
    “Can you go inside and put an ice cube on this? Just until it feels too cold, then take it off. When it warms up, put the ice back on.” He set her on her feet, and she looked over his shoulder, eyes wide. “Don’t worry about him. Okay? He won’t hurt you again.”
    He tried to usher her through the door,