Potent Potential

By SidneyArden

62.1K 1.4K 223

The future, 2400, is not the technology abundant world we imagined it. Flying cars and artificially intellige... More

Potent Potential - Prelude
Potent Potential - One - Bodyguard or Babysitter?
Potent Potential - Two - Confrontation or Conversation?
Potent Potential - Three - Demanding or Demeaning?
Potent Potential - Four - Friend or Foe?
Potent Potential - Five - Pain or Play?
Potent Potential - Six - Recovery or Resignation?
Potent Potential - Seven - Visitors or Vermin?
Potent Potential - Eight - Unfortunate or Uniting?
Potent Potential - Nine - Interested or Inebriated?
Potent Potential - Ten - Murderous or Melancholy?
Potent Potential - Eleven - Dead or Dying?
Potent Potential - Twelve - Pawn or Participant?
Potent Potential - Thirteen - Temptation or Trouble?
Fourteen - Fruitless or Fun
Fifteen - Chance or Con?
Sixteen - Subtle or Striking
Eighteen - This is a load of crap

Seventeen - Push or Pull?

1K 43 8
By SidneyArden

Chapter Seventeen

Push or Pull?

______________

When Boey arrived home he found me tensely sitting in the foyer, dangerously still. He raised a questioning brow at me and gestured the two men with him to move on to the meeting room.

“You look ready to pounce,” he said, no emotions in his tone. I don’t think I was quite forgiven for my escape attempt.

I twisted my lips into a scowl. I’d spent a lot of time thinking about what Dante had been threatened with. A secret. A secret Boey knew of. Dante was somehow important, perhaps even more important than his ruthless brother.

“Dante has been taken to the hospital.”

Not even a flicker of concern showed on his face. Damn, I had wanted him to look at least hesitant.

“How does that affect you?” he asked coldly.

I glared. “He was standing up for me when Rowan decked him.” I twisted the truth slightly, although Dante had drawn Rowan’s attention away from me. Kind of.

Boey, looking bored, retrieved his phone from his pocket and called someone on speed dial. His gaze pinned me in place as he spoke to someone on the other end.

“Yes… yes… yes… See you soon.”

Riveting one-sided conversation.

He pocketed the phone. “Stay where you are.”

“Uhh…” I lifted my hands and looked around. Did it seem like I was going somewhere?

“Stay,” he commanded. “Your saviour will be returning soon. I want you to tell him to report straight to me.”

I stood to attention mockingly. “Sir, yes, s—”

Quit it!” The Boss cut me off and was suddenly inches away, his finger nearly poking out my eye. “You’ve been spoilt, Orphan, but don’t think to disrespect me in my own house.” His face was a harsh mask of frustration and I knew I’d finally pushed him into losing his temper.

I gave him look for look. I realised that he didn’t intimidate me like he used to, or was it that I no longer cared?  I wanted out of the games and politics of being a prodigy shooter. And then, for some reason, I saw Dante in my mind, and imagined him telling me that I wasn’t the type of person to just give up. The bastard and his philosophies were getting to me. I looked down, though kept my chin up. I wasn’t defeated, but I wouldn’t challenge him now.

“I understand it’s in your nature and I’ve put up with it. You’re stubborn and driven, and you take orders like you’re doing a favour.” Boey’s voice had lowered and I could feel him standing over me, though I refused to look back into his eyes. “I’ve no wish to smother you but I have given you slack when I clearly should’ve tightened the leash.”

I felt a tightening in my stomach, knowing he had a point. As an orphan, someone he’d saved from living in the more destitute areas, I’d always been grateful towards him. But now I was feeling the freedom he’d given me was the prize before the project. Every day I’d taken my relaxed lifestyle for granted was a day I would have to repay him in work. He’d given me a taste of the lazy life and now I wanted the whole cake.

But I wasn’t a glutton. I had to ration from now on.

“I apologise, boss,” I said, the words nearly catching as my throat tried to cut them off. “I owe you my respect.”

His hand grasped my shoulder but it wasn’t a friendly squeeze. “See to it that you act appropriately from now on. Don’t make me regret the choices I’ve made, Jax.”

I didn’t look up until he’d left the room. Just in case he saw how pissed I truly was. I wanted to sweat it out, hit something or someone. But I had to wait like a good girl for Dante to return.

When I heard the key in the lock, I was still tense and breathing through my nose to stop myself from swiping the pot plants off the table opposite me. It wasn’t helping me calm myself. But the pot plants were still sitting there peacefully and upright.

Rowan entered first and, at the sight of me, nodded as if he expected me to be there. Dante followed.

Holy shit.

His face was swollen and off coloured, like a bruised peach. It looked tender and painful. And I wanted to ask how he was and if he had a serious concussion but the rage was still flowing and I wanted to send him on to the boss so that I could release it in some way.

“The Boss needed to see you,” I said stiffly.

Dante frowned at me and took a step forward. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he said softly, the back of his hand coming up to brush my cheek gently.

And then he left. I glared at Rowan.

“I hear you’ve got an in with the resistance,” he said casually, making no move to leave the room.

“I was under the impression that I no longer had to report to you,” I spat out. I stormed out the foyer, determined to get to the small gym and hit something.

“Jax.” Rowan was following me. “Dammit, stop.” He grabbed my wrist and yanked me to a stop. I hissed as my shoulder jarred painfully.

“Let go,” I growled.

“No.” Rowan waved at the space between us. “This has to stop.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, was he going to lecture me on my personality too? I wasn’t fucking perfect and I. Did. Not. Give. A. Shit.

“I’m sorry for yanking your chain one too many times. And I’m sorry for rubbing your face in the fact that I’m your superior, in and out of school. But you have a similar personality to me and we repel, naturally. I’m not trying to say that this is either of our faults, or that we should become friends, but we need to be able to work together. It’ll happen one day and I don’t want to have to use authority to bend your will. I’ll stay out of your hair as much as I can, and I can promise you that you won’t have to deal with me for the next few days, but please, please, let’s make our lives easier and just tolerate each other.”

Oooh, it bugged me. It made me itchy. He was attempting to be the bigger man and I in no way wanted to let him do so. I was so furious I was shaking. But.

But I didn’t want to have to deal with his shit anymore. I didn’t want to have to worry about him. I didn’t want to get worked up every time he came into the room. I wanted to see him as just another gang member, nothing special, nothing deserving of my attention.

So I said, “Fine.” And then I shook him off and continued to the gym.

**

Dante found me in my room three hours later, frowning when he saw that my hair was sweat soaked.

I raised my hand before he could say a word.

“I’m fine. Don’t bitch.”

His expression instantly turned dark. “I put my restrictions in place on purpose. Are your ribs hurting whenever you breathe?”

“No,” I said quickly, looking him right in the eye.

It didn’t work. He obviously knew that I was lying.

“Ribs can sometimes sit comfortably and you don’t even notice a fracture until you turn or flex a certain way.” He stalked towards me. “And you realise you have swollen muscles supporting the weakened frame. Usually, smart people stop movements at this time, because the fragile bone could break, puncture a lung, and then where would we be?” he finished angrily, reaching me and grabbing my waist tightly.

I barely stopped myself from wincing when even the slightest movement made a sharp pain slice through my chest. I was breathing shallowly from the pain of my ribs anyway. It felt like someone was digging for gold in my lungs every time I inhaled. With the sharpest shovel money could buy. Or a pickaxe.

His thumbs swept upwards and I couldn’t help but cry out when he hit a particularly tender contusion. His glare was terrifying.

“What were you thinking?” he spat, pushing me slowly backwards. The back of my legs hit my bed and I sat. Or, well, he pushed me so I had to sit.

“I wasn’t.” I didn’t look him in the eye when I spoke. I wasn’t in the mood. I was never in the mood for a lecture but right now?

I could ruin this relationship I had with Dante if he kept badgering me right now. Emotionally, I was fucked. All I wanted was to crawl up into a ball and sleep. The boxing had done nothing. Now not only was I angry, but I was in pain too.

“What? You weren’t thinking? Don’t give me that crap.” His tone was quieter but still just as stern. “I need to check if there’s a possibility you’ve made a fracture worse, you could have flail chest, although unlikely. Too much movement can make you feel sick, as well as the pain. Lie down.”

He didn’t have to order me, I was already flopping down onto the bed. His hands were cool on my stomach as he lifted my shirt but I couldn’t be bothered reacting. I was numb. So angry that the world could be exploding around me and I would not give one damn.

“Seems fine. A bit more tender than it was.”

Dante kept lifting the shirt til it was up at my neck and pushing off my shoulders. I halted him by stiffening my arms.

“What are you doing?” I said without inflection.

“Getting this sweaty top off so that you can sleep.” He lifted an arm and pushed the sleeve up. The top was now covering my face and down one arm.

“I can do that.”

He chuckled softly. “So can I.”

He pushed my other arm up and slid the top further up. When my head popped free, I was glaring at him.

“What? You seriously think I’m in the mood right now?”

His small smile slipped away and his features turned serious. He pulled my top off the rest of the way and brushed at my cheek.

“I can read you pretty well. You’re in unending bitch mode. You need to sleep it off. And you need to realise that you’re not alone.”

I lay there with my arms stretched over my head with him hovering over me and spat fire with my eyes. “I fucking realise I’m not alone. You won’t leave me alone.”

He pushed on my shoulder and sighed when I didn’t budge. “You think you want to be alone but, really, deep down, you want to cuddle with me.” He pushed again. “Roll over.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Cuddle? Was he drunk? “What do I need to roll over for?” He wasn’t going to unclasp my bra, was he?

“I need to check the bruising on your back and make sure you haven’t fucked anything up there” he said with a smile that contradicted the sarcastic tone of his voice.

I rolled, praying that I could trust him, and this time flinched when his hands met my skin.

“Sorry, I haven’t bothered to warm them up,” he said banally. To further show his “repentance”, he dug his thumb into a particularly sore muscle.

“FUCK!”

He didn’t move his thumb, or release the pressure.

I bit down on the pillow and screamed.

“This wouldn’t be so painful if you hadn’t worked out.” He didn’t sound angry, in fact he sounded amused, the jerk.

When he released the knot, I felt slight tingles in my arms and suddenly I was able to breathe again. I shuddered and turned onto my side, facing away from him.

“Are you done? You can leave.”

“Hmm,” he said ponderingly. He rolled off me, lying so that he faced me on the bed. “No.”

I pressed my face to my pillow, tears of exhaustion and frustration leaking out. “Please.”

His hand touched my elbow and began to rub comforting circles onto my skin. “Sorry, princess, but you can’t push me away.”

I groaned loudly and turned to face him, peering through my wet eyelashes. He looked straight back, not even blinking at my expression.

“Why not?” I mumbled tiredly.

He grinned and scooted closer. “I’m just that sadistic. The more you push me away, the more I want to stay.”

“Are you trying to say that I should use reverse psychology on you?”

He chuckled and pressed his nose against mine. “I might get bored if you start telling me that you love me and want me around all the time but I know ways to liven things up.”

He was speaking casually, as if our faces weren’t practically mushed together. I stared into his eyes, there was nothing else I could really look at, until they blurred in front of me and I had to blink. I was beginning to think that Dante had a screw, or two, loose.

“So if I try to get rid of you, you’ll only want me more, and if I accept that you’ll always be around, you’ll simply screw my brains out?” I asked bluntly, removing all romantic connotations out of our conversation.

He chuckled lightly, the vibrations felt against my lips. “No. Either way, I’m going to screw your brains out.”

I huffed and turned away. One, because I was disturbed by his premonition and two, because I didn’t want him to analyse my reaction and discover that I was in fact a virgin. Virginity was a weakness, a sign of innocence. I was not innocent in any way.

“Does that disturb you?” he guessed correctly, his breath stirring the hairs on my neck. He’d moved even closer.

I grunted in reply. He didn’t need to hear me voice my affirmation in order to know he was right. His hand moved from my elbow to my back and then down to the curve of my opposite hip. I wriggled uncomfortably but didn’t buck him away.

“Want to cuddle now?” he asked cheekily.

Did it matter if I said no? What was scary was that I kind of liked the stubborn attachment he had to me. It was like, for once, someone was on my side and they weren’t backing down to anyone, even me.

“Yes, cuddle me forever,” I muttered bitterly.

“If you say so,” he murmured back. His hand pulled gently on my waist, and I turned into him, allowing him to wrap his arm around my back, allowing him to tuck my head under his chin, allowing him to run his fingers across the band of my pants. I closed my eyes, ready to sleep, ready to escape from reality. I was tired, emotionally and physically drained. It didn’t matter that he was here, or that he was annoying me.

He was warm. He didn’t want me to be a robot. And he was staying.

 

I’m not exactly happy with this chapter, it is a filler and I don’t really want a filler at this point in the book… so consider this an extra chapter with unnecessary information ;) lol.  I’m trying to write, really, truly.

x

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