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His brown eyes gleam wickedly. Within seconds he has me growling back the same sentiment, drunk on pleasure.

This. Fucking. Guy.

He’s mine.

And I’ve never been happier.

Penn

I’m too buzzed to work on homework. Buzzed from the high of today. Kissing him at school in front of everyone was a dream come true. Sucking each other off at the tattoo shop was a fantasy turned reality. I should be studying, but all I can do is count down the minutes until he gets off work and comes over to see me. More than anything, I want to pull him into my bed and finish what we started at his work. My new tattoo burns on my chest, reminding me of my permanent art. I love it. I love the fact Cope gave it to me even more.

Flipping the page on my book, I attempt to concentrate. With Cope getting kicked out, it’ll be even more important for me to keep up my grades and go to college. I’m just jotting down an answer when my door flings open, cracking against the wall from the force. I jolt up in bed, tossing my notebook on top of the book beside me, and sit up.

Dad.

Shit.

I knew this was coming. It was inevitable. I didn’t miss the way those kids took videos of our blatant display of love at lunch today.

I’d just hoped maybe, for once, Dad could just be embarrassed and get over it.

No such luck.

“You’re seven kinds of stupid, aren’t you?” Dad growls, prowling into my room, his chest heaving.

Hating that I’m on uneven ground, I rise to my feet, fisting my hands beside me. “Excuse me?”

His eyes narrow to slits and he jeers at me. “When I fuck around on your mom, I keep that shit locked down tight. I don’t broadcast it to the entire damn town.”

I tense. “Leah and I—”

“Not only did you publically cheat on your fiancée for everyone to see, you’re fucking queer, too. And with the Justice boy of all people. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Infuriated at him, I charge until I’m right in his face. “The whole thing with Leah was a sham and you fucking knew it. You set it up, for fuck’s sake, Dad. But Cope and I? It’s real. It’s real and I’ll be damned if I allow you to say—”

My words are cut off when he slams his fist into my face. Shocked by the sudden explosion of pain, I stumble back. He swings at me again, but I manage to dodge it, landing a punch to his stomach instead. His ab muscles—fit for an older guy—flex at the blow. I get knocked to the floor when he swings his leg out, crashing against my legs. Hating that he’s at the advantage, I attempt to scramble to my feet.

“You’re a fucking disgrace,” he snarls, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “Always have been, queer.”

I’m stunned by his hatred, so much so, that I don’t block the knee to my face. Everything blacks out around me and I fall to my side. Pain explodes in my lower back when he kicks me there. Over and over again. So many times I dreamed of the day when I’d finally kick his ass. I’m younger and stronger and faster.

But he’s meaner.

He’s a psychopath.

“You will have nothing,” he roars, coming into my view. Then, he kicks me in the stomach.

I howl out I pain, attempting to catch my breath. All the energy bleeds from my body like it used to do when I was a kid. Tears leak out of their own accord as I try to remain lifeless. If I’m lifeless, he gets bored and goes away. Choking back the sob is always the hardest. It slips out like a whine, alerting him to the fact I’m still awake and ready for more abuse. I brace for impact when he’s suddenly slammed against a wall.

Cope.

My heart hammers to life. So often it was him who came to my rescue. But usually, he just helped me get cleaned up and took me to his house to recover. Now, though? Now he’s toe to toe with my old man.

“Fuckin’ queers,” Dad bellows. “The both of you!”

Cope whips his arm back with lightning speed and slams it right in my dad’s face. Blood bursts from Dad’s nose and gushes down his lips to his dress shirt.

“I will have you locked away! I will sue you and your father!” Dad threatens. “I will ruin you.”

Cope kicks him right in the nuts, making my dad cry out. “And then I’ll hunt your ass down and gut you in your sleep,” Cope vows, his voice cold. “You touch one hair on my boyfriend’s head again and I will end you. I’ll go to prison for the rest of my life just to watch you fucking bleed out. Do you hear me, old man?”

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