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I go back to stroking Ian’s head. Enzo kneels beside me, his hands trembling as he grabs Ian’s hand. I stare at the contact, shocked he’s touching him in front of me.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Enzo whispers. I stare back at Ian, gently coaxing him awake. “He wasn’t supposed to do this.”
“What?” I ask. When he doesn’t immediately answer, I look at him. Tears stream down his face as he stares at Ian, and my initial rage settles at the sight. “What happened?”
“We came to pack my stuff,” he says, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Things got—we—” He gives me a pleading look, and I nod in understanding. “Dad got home and found Ian in the closet. He said things—” He lifts his gaze to his father, and that hatred comes back to his face. “Then he started hitting Ian. When Ian fell, I tackled my dad and— and you saw the rest.”
Ian’s chest rises and falls in steady breaths, and I rest my hand on it, trying to bring comfort to myself. Enzo’s father groans, and my head snaps up. I zero in on him as I climb to my feet.
I step over Ian and move toward the man. He pushes himself up and leans against the wall. His eyes are closed until he senses me, then he opens them.
“Who are you?” he spits, his voice hoarse.
“You hurt my son,” I snarl. His eyes widen, but surprisingly, he stays silent. “You’re fucking dead.”
I bring my foot up and kick him square in the center of the face. He cries out at the pain, but I don’t care. I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.
I brace my hand on the wood paneled wall as I bring my foot up again. I don’t bother waiting for him to lower his hands before I stomp him again. And again. And again.
He slumps to the floor, and I keep bringing my foot down on him. I don’t stop until he’s unrecognizable. Faintly, I hear someone curse from the doorway. It’s too deep of a voice to be one of the boys.
“Kiwi,” Bash says, but I ignore him as I continue stomping on Enzo’s father’s face. Again and again, I stomp on him until I’m positive he’s dead.
With a final blow, blood and bone and tissue fly in different directions, splattering on the wall and my jeans. I lean against the wall, breathing heavily. I let myself calm down before I turn toward the guys.
Enzo is staring up at me with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open. His hand is still clutching Ian’s, his hold so tight his knuckles are white.
Maybe I got carried away. Maybe I shouldn’t have killed him in front of Enzo, but he’s mine now, too. I don’t want his father to ever hurt him again.
And now he can’t.
“You’re welcome,” I say, giving a shallow bow.
“Fuck,” Reid chokes. I glance up at him, grim amusement on his face. He can pretend he’s not as fucked in the head as me, but he is.
He totally is.
“We need to get the boys out of here,” I say. Bash takes in the scene around us. “And we need to clean this shit up.”
“Nothing leaves this room,” Axel says. Enzo tilts his head back to look at the giant man looming over him. “Do you understand me? Nothing. Leaves. This. Room.” Enzo nods frantically, his mouth opening and closing.
“Nothing,” he repeats. “Never. No.” He looks around at us towering over him and I know we’re giving the kid a complex, so I kneel beside him. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. I—I didn’t even see what happened. I—”
“It’s okay, kid,” I say. His shoulders slump, and I rest my hand on his back. “Sorry about that. I get carried away sometimes.” His eyes stay like saucers as he stares at me.
“Understatement of the fucking year,” Reid mutters, and I flip him off.
I stare down at Ian, relief flooding me when he barely stirs. Relief seems to flood Enzo, too. His face relaxes as he clutches Ian’s hand to his chest. I glance up at the guys, but no one says anything. Bash lifts his brows in silent question, and I dip my chin. He nods in understanding, then sighs.
“This is such a fucking mess,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ll call the Nomads. Fuck, Ry is gonna kill us for this.”
“He’ll get over it,” I snort.
“He’ll hold this grudge to the grave,” Axel says. “We already took him away from Madi and Izzy all day. Now this? He’s going to kill us.” I shrug.
“Don’t give a shit. I need to take my boys home.” I look between them, and Reid tosses me his keys.
“Don’t get blood on the seats,” he says. “It’s a bitch to get out.”
