Page 68 of The Devil

Enzo shakes his head. “One day we’ll share secrets. Not today.” His thumb brushes lightly over my cheek, and it helps keep my attention on him. “Just keep focusing on me. You’re doing good.”

The panic attack retreats, and I suck in a deep breath of air.

“Better?” he asks.

When I nod, the corner of his mouth lifts, and a pleased expression settles on his face.

“Let’s move away from that subject,” he says. “Do you have any questions you want to ask me?”

So many.

I lift my phone, but again, I hesitate before deciding to speak. “Cassia said you’re alone.”

He pulls his hand away from my cheek but keeps the other one at the back of my neck as he answers, “She’s right.”

“No family?” I whisper.

Enzo shakes his head. “I grew up on the streets.”

My eyes widen, and before I can ask how that happened, he continues, “My mother didn’t have much to begin with, and she would leave me alone for long stretches of time. When I was eleven, she left and never returned. I was kicked out of the dump we lived in, and the streets became my home until I was twenty.”

That’s so sad. At least I have Mom and Aunt Sherrie. I had a happy life until that night.

My voice is soft as I say, “I’m sorry.”

Enzo shrugs. “It’s life.” He glances out the window behind the couch. “It made me who I am today.”

When he looks at me again, his eyes drift over my face before settling on my ponytail. The next instant, he pulls the tie out, and when the blonde strands fall over my shoulders, he smiles.

“I like your hair down,” he admits. He brushes his palm over my head. “It’s as soft as it looks.”

I look down, and when my gaze falls on his thighs, I see what can only be a clear outline of his manhood. My eyes almost roll into the back of my head, and I jump up from the couch to put a safe distance between us.

Enzo shoots to his feet as well, and when he moves toward me, I hold up my hands between us and shake my head.

“What did I do to trigger you?” he asks.

I keep shaking my head while taking deep breaths.

“Look at me, Jenna,” he says, his tone very dominant. My gaze snaps to his, then he nods. “Good. Just keep eye contact with me and stay in the present.”

I see the golden flecks burning in his brown irises and focus on them until the panic retreats.

Once my breathing slows down, he tilts his head and says, “You need to give me a list of triggers so I know what to avoid.”

I don’t have a list. Sometimes something triggers me, and other times it doesn’t.

“Can you tell me what I just did to make you panic?”

I wrap my arms around myself and look down at the floor. My voice is hoarse as I force the words over my lips. “It’s not you. It’s me.” I close my eyes before I continue, “This is why I said that we can’t…” I shake my head fast. “We just can’t. You’re wasting your time with me.”

When Enzo closes the distance between us in a couple of long strides, I barely manage to take a step backward before he’s right in front of me. Placing his finger beneath my chin, he nudges my face up, but I quickly glance to the side to avoid his eyes.

“You will never be a waste of my time. Don’t ever say that again.”

For the first time, his tone is harsh, and when I look at him and see the anger darkening his eyes, a shiver of fear runs down my spine.

He takes a deep breath, visibly calming himself before he murmurs, “You are important to me. I want you to be happy,meu amor, but that’s going to be difficult to achieve if I keep triggering you.”