A Burning Flame by Daniella Kunz (the red fox clan .TXT) 📗

“So you broke my fucking door? I have half a mind to call my father and.-”

“And what?” He says, interrupting me. “Explain to him that you asked me to fuck you, that you soiled your good virtue and name, ruining their agreement? That you now belong to me? Or that you refuse to accept this and that I broke your door to get in so we could talk because you are too fucking stubborn to listen to reason?” He stops in front of me as he finishes his rant. Feeling my anger reach its boiling point, I throw my fist back before slamming it into his face.

Pain explodes over my knuckles as he curses moving his hand to his nose. Turning around my eyes water as I shake my hand. Nobody said punching someone was going to hurt. It’s supposed to hurt the person being punched, not the person throwing it!

I wince as shaking it seems to make the pain flare, and I draw in a sharp breath. “Fuck Gianna, are you fucking kidding me?” When I don’t respond, he grabs my shoulder turning me to face him. He is simmering in anger and I see a little bit of blood at the end of his nostril. When he sees my face pinched in pain as I cradle my hand, his brows immediately draw in concern. “Let me see your hand.” He holds his out expecting me to place my hand in it.

“No. I’m fine.” I shrink back not wanting him to touch me or see how pathetic I am.

“Gianna, come on, let me just make sure you didn’t break something.” Looking down at my hand, I can see it is beginning to swell. Not waiting for me to comply any longer, he wraps his arm around my waist pulling me to him. He grabs hold of my hand gently as he looks it over. Turning it over he touches the top by my knuckles, and I suck in a breath as I rip my hand away.

“Well, it’s not broke, but it looks like you may have sprained it.” Walking over to my kitchen, he opens the freezer grabbing out some ice cubes before rolling it up in a dish towel he grabs off the counter. Coming back over he sits me down on the couch handing me the cold compress. Going over to the door I watch as he looks it over, trying to close it though it doesn't stay since he ripped the hinge off the door.

Reaching into his pocket, I watch as he silently takes a picture of the door before typing some things on it. When he is done and slips it back away, he drags one of my chairs over in front of the door to keep it closed in place. When he turns his attention back to me he comes over, sitting down on the coffee table in front of me.

“So do you always go around punching people, or am I the only one to bestow that honor?”

Grimacing at my lack of control, I keep my head turned down. “I think you need to work on your form though.” My head jerks up to glare at him before he throws his hands up. “Not just being an ass, you could have broken your wrist doing that just now. Who taught you how to punch anyway?”

“I have been watching self-defense videos, teaching myself.” Finally looking up at him, I see his brows pinch together.

“Why in the hell would you nee.-” His sentence drops short as he makes the connection. His anger returns in a rage of fury and I see it swirl in his eyes. “You mean to tell me you have been working on self-defense to protect yourself from Enzo?”

I only nod in response. “Gianna, you don’t need to worry about him. I have everything under control. He isn’t going to touch you.”

I’m irritated at his attempt to make me feel safe, and I can’t bite back my scoff. “Yeah, because when you just left me for over a month, you had control over that.”

“Actually, I did. I have eyes on him in Chicago and have been keeping him busy there this whole time. Have you not wondered why he hasn’t tried to come back here yet?”

Wait what? He has been keeping him away this whole time? “I thought you had forgotten about me.” I admit, lowering my eyes not wanting to meet his gaze.

Reaching down, he placed his fingers under my chin, lifting my face so he could see my eyes. “Gianna, I could never forget about you. You haven’t left my mind once since you've been gone.” Leaning forward he closes the distance between us, brushing his lips over mine in a soft kiss.

When he pulls away he glances down at my hand again. “How about once your hand heals, I teach you how to throw a proper punch? It needs a little work.” He jokes, mocking my attempt.

“Did it seriously not hurt you?”

“Well I mean you made it bleed a little, but other than that no.” He laughs as my face falls in disappointment. “Darlin, Nico alone has broken my nose a handful of times, I have essentially become numb to it.”

A light knock on the door startles me. I look from the door to Daveon worried it is one of my guards before he glances at his phone walking over to it. Moving the chair he opens the door, speaking with a man holding some tools. After a few minutes he comes back over settling back down as the man begins to fix my door.

Neither of us speaks as the man tinkers away at the door. The apartment is quiet, aside from the noises of the power tools as he quickly works. Though we sit in silence, inside my mind is waging a war on itself. Everything inside of me wants to jump into his arms as he holds me and tells me that the looming nightmare of my future