“You need to cool it, Milo. Take some goddamn yoga classes. Do breathing exercises. Whatever it takes to get your ego in check and your anger under control.”
“You done?”
“No, actually, I’m not.” Tristan took a deep breath and his pressure went back to normal. “I think Rain needs you to back down a little. You understand?”
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” Milo said, scoffing. “Sure, it’s good now and you’re probably thinking you’ve figured him out, but you have no clue what that man needs.” Milo stepped closer to him. “He’s a child. He lives in a fantasy world—a fantasy world I protected for fourteen fucking years. Who do you think paid the bills and made sure Pip had a roof over his head, huh? Do you think Rain is capable of it?” He laughed dryly. “His puppets have a higher I.Q. than he does—”
“Oh, I’m not listening to this shit.” Tristan made a move to leave.