A shield hung on the wall to my left, glinting with symbols and careful etching. The markings summoned me, whispering of a story—maybe a key to Fox.
Every chisel line looked angry, too deep, too filled with violence. Three Russian words caught my attention, scratched with no finesse, looking angry and sinister.
Letting my bag fall off my shoulder with a soft thud, I reached with inquisitive fingers to trace the foreign letters. I wished I understood what they meant.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up; my heart galloped. There’d been no sound, no hint that anything dangerous had entered the room, but my senses knew.
I stepped back from the metal shield, looking toward the bathroom door.
Wide open, with a cloud of steam billowing behind him, Fox stood glaring at me.
My stomach twisted drinking in his tight posture, the dampness of his hair. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t need to. His gaze was so intense it pummelled me from across the room. So many questions, so many accusations lived in his snowy depths.
I thought I’d never see you again.
Our deal is broken.
Leave.
Run.
I don’t want you here.
I tried to communicate just as silently, showing him just how pissed off I was, but that I understood, too.
You hurt me, but I came back.
You owe me for what you did.
I hate you, but I want to help you.
The silent conversation ended with Fox standing taller, drawing my eyes down his fully clothed body. His messy dark-bronze hair dripped moisture onto his shoulders, but his toned body was encased in a black sweater and black cotton trousers.
He dressed even thinking he was alone—why? I could understand physical shyness—even though he had no reason to be shy with his physique, but I couldn’t understand the need to hide whatever existed beneath his clothing.
I spoke before I consciously made the decision to communicate. “What happened to you?”
His jaw was swollen, and one eye had a large cut beneath it, all puffed and purple. Blood crusted his hairline and he kept an arm tight against his side, protecting either his organs or ribs.
I balled my hands, fighting the urge to nurse him as he shuffled from the doorway toward the bed. He never took his eyes off me.
The energy in the room sparked and fizzled with awareness. I’d never been so in-tune with someone before—regardless if I lusted for them or hated them.
I bit my lip as he hissed in discomfort, lowering himself from standing to sitting on the bed. Despite his obvious pain, there was something different about him.
Gone was the fine edge of…I didn’t know… power, hatred, poise maybe? He lacked the tense fierceness, the tightly reined control. Before, he looked like he could reap Armageddon, now he looked…relaxed. He looked tired.
The man before me was… content. A strange conclusion for someone bleeding and breathing shallowly, but his white-grey eyes weren’t haunted. They were clear and focused and angry.
My heart fluttered, drawn to the damaged, magnetised to the need in him. Seeing him vulnerable wilted away my anger.
Carefully, he swung his legs onto the bed and reclined against the black fluffy pillows. His eyes trailed over my body, taking their time, branding me.
The bruising in my core turned from aching to throbbing.
You came here to scream at him. Don’t fall into the trap of attraction.
Sucking in a determined breath, I stomped to the end of the bed and clutched the gnarly tree bed-end. The cold metal gave me something to focus on. I glowered. “You hurt me last night. I came back to tell you exactly what I thought of you—to inflict some pain in retribution, but I see karma works fast and someone beat me to it.”
His jaw worked, but he didn’t reply.
Fine, if that was how he wanted to play. “Want me to guess how you came to be bruised and beaten? You want to know the truth about me…well, I want to know the truth about you. If I had more sense I would never have come back, but lucky for you I care about someone more than myself, and I’m doing this for them. I’m earning the money for their future.”
“Well that just makes you f**king selfless then, doesn’t it?” Fox snarled. “I don’t want to hear about your reservations and regrets returning to me. If you feel that strongly just piss off.”
I rolled my eyes, my temper heating. “You think I would willingly come back for abuse? Don’t kid yourself. You practically raped me, and I should feel what exactly? I’ll tell you what I feel: lust for the money you promised. I made a mistake thinking I could enjoy my time with you. I wasn’t mentally prepared for you taking me because I’d hoped I would find satisfaction, but you taught me yet another lesson, and I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Fanning my arms, I snapped, “I’m here. I’m here for your enjoyment, and I don’t expect anything in return but your cash. I guess I truly am a whore.”
His eyes flashed. “You’re not a f**king whore. And I get it—you want to hurt me by saying you no longer want me in any capacity but to pay you. Congratulations, I understand completely.”
“Good.”
“Fine!” His face twisted, bruising and redness on his cheek highlighting his scar. “At least this way we know exactly where we stand.”
I nodded. “Precisely.”
Fox’s eyes lost the flash of anger filling suddenly with tiredness. “Anything else you wish to scream at me before I pass out?” He looked defeated—smaller and vulnerable.
My heart thumped, diluting my anger with compassion. Running my finger along the top of the bed-end, I asked, “What happened to you? Where did you go last night?”
He scowled, shaking his head. “I went nowhere and nothing happened.” He winced a little as he shifted on the bed. “Oscar told me he dropped you off last night, but he refused to tell me your address.”
Relief siphoned through my blood. There was no way I wanted Fox knowing where I lived—not while Clara was there. “And he beat you up for asking?”
Fox laughed, holding his side. “As if.” His eyes narrowed. “I got someone else.”
My mouth plopped open. “You asked for that to happen to you?”
His lips twisted, refusing to answer. His eyes fell to the necklace he’d put on me last night. The silver disappeared down my cle**age, tickling my stomach whenever I breathed.
I sucked in a small breath as his eyes flashed to smouldering. Ignoring the burn in my belly, I pointed at the split in his lip. “Did you go searching for pain?”