Page 115 of Man Possessed

I kiss along his jaw, and nip at his neck. He groans, and the sound nearly makes me come undone. My hand slides down, and I grip his hip. He moves his hips forward, pressing himself against me.

“Ian,” he says, and my eyes roll back. He’s never said my name like that—no onehas ever said my name like that.

The front door slams, rattling the walls, and our eyes snap open. He shoots off the bed, tripping and falling to the floor. He throws my shirt at me as he picks his up.

“Lorenzo!” his father calls, and my heart lurches into my throat. “You home?”

“Ah, just a sec, Pop!” he hollers back. “Hurry the fuck up.” His voice is a barely audible hiss. The doorknob turns, but I’m still fumbling with my shirt, trying to turn it rightside out again. “Wait. I’m changing.”

Enzo launches himself at the door, putting all his weight into it. His eyes are wide as he stares at me, his chest heaving.

“Open the fucking door,” his dad snaps. He shoves it, making Enzo lurch forward. He pushes back, slamming it shut again.

“Get in the closet.” He points at this closet, and I scramble to it. I slide the door closed as his father pushes the door harder, forcing Enzo to trip and fall forward.

“Who the fuck is in here?” I stare at his father through the slats of the door, trying to calm my breathing. Carefully, I pull my phone from my pocket and call Ezra. I don’t know why I call instead of text.

“No one,” Enzo says as he straightens. He subtly shifts his body between his father and me. “I was just changing clothes.” His father’s eyes narrow into thin slits.

“You think I’m stupid?” He scans the room again, his eyes lingering on the rumpled bed.

My hand fumbles with the phone as I pull it from my ear. Ezra didn’t answer. Fuck. I type a quick text to him, telling him only three words—I need you.

My hands are shaking so badly the phone slides from them to the floor. I swear under my breath as I stoop to grab it.

“Who the fuck is in here?” Enzo’s father shouts. I stop moving, half crouched, half standing. His footsteps thud on the carpet and I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t look in the closet. This was a stupid idea. I didn’t need to hide. I’ve been in Enzo’s room a million times.

“Wait, Dad,” Enzo says, his voice shaky. “It’s—no one’s here.”

But it’s too late.

The closet door flies open and I stare into Enzo’s father’s black eyes. He blinks at me, a moment of confusion on his face. Then understanding filters in and fury like I’ve never seen fills his eyes.

Enzo tries to push himself between us, but his father shoves him away as he grabs my shirt. I step on my phone, hearing it crunch under my sneaker. He hauls me roughly from the closet, and Enzo rushes to my side, trying to get in front of me.

I block him with my arm, forcing him behind me. His father laughs humorlessly before spitting something so vulgar and vile at us, it makes me wince.

“Really, Lorenzo?” his father says, throwing his arm at me. “Couldn’t’ve had a girl in here like every other boy your age? You had to have—” His lip curls in disgust as he stares at me. “Aboy?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Enzo rushes out. His body trembles violently, and I want nothing more than to comfort him, but I can’t right now. I sway back and forth on my feet as I track his father.

Ezra’s words from the first day I met him come floating into my head.

Can you back your shit up, kid?

I never thought I could, not really. I knew I’d go down swinging protecting Mom, but this feeling of wanting to protect Enzo is the strongest thing I’ve ever felt before. At this moment, I come to terms with my fate.

I will die to protect Enzo.

If that’s what it takes, I will do it so he can get away, so he can be safe.

Fear doesn’t take root in my chest like I expect it to. Instead, a calm sort of rage settles there. I stand taller, squaring my shoulders as I glare down at his father.

My arm is still out, blocking Enzo from moving forward at all. His father slowly shifts his eyes to me, and I lift my chin higher, a clear challenge. A cruel smile curves his lips, and I feel my own mouth curl, surprising him as much as myself.

“So, itiswhat it looks like,” his father says. I shuffle forward a small step, shifting my body between Enzo and him more.

I don’t know if Ezra got my text or not, or if he even knows where I am. He knows I was coming here after school, but he doesn’t know where Enzo lives. And even if he did, it doesn’t matter. It’ll be too late by the time he gets here.

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