Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I lost it then. Dragging poor Mickey with me, I marched menacingly towards him.
Chapter 23
Sienna
He didn’t move a muscle.
I stopped in front of him so angry I wanted to punch his jaw. “Take that back,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Take what back? That I’m beginning to doubt you’re your father’s daughter? I’m sorry but I don’t know how else to explain why you were so utterly clueless yesterday.”
The burn in my chest at the abuse and accusation was too much for me to take. Before I could catch myself, I lost it. Blind rage took over and my fist swung towards him. Unfortunately for me he was quicker than a bolt of lightning. He jerked his head back, and effortlessly dodged the blow.
I, on the other hand, had put too much force into my swing. The momentum carried me forward and I stumbled forward, taking me headfirst into the wall of his chest.
He caught me roughly by my arms, and set me away from him.
But my sore ankle twisted under me and I found myself collapsing to the ground. I was shocked when I looked up at him.
Surprise flashed across his face, then his expression settled into confusion … and pity!
With a scream of fury, I jumped up to my feet, throbbing ankle be damned, and went for him.
I swung my fists … one strike and then another, and with the momentum of that one yet another one, but he effectively blocked each one, each time fluidly moving out of the way before I could even so much as touch a hair on his body.
Now I felt absolutely embarrassed, because I had trained almost all my life, so how was it possible that I couldn’t even hurt him once? I needed to hurt him, at least once, otherwise I didn’t know how I would be able to move on from the embarrassment. How would I ever be able to face him again?
So I kept on fighting, exerting all my energy, ignoring all the aches and pains I’d incurred the previous evening.
Mickey began to yap in terror at the uneven exchange.
“Stop!” Angelo growled. “You’re going to fucking hurt yourself.”
“Fuck you!” I roared right back at him and lunged ferociously at him.
This time, he caught both my wrists then held me away from him as I kicked, yelled, and swore at him like a wild cat. “Stop it,” he snarled.
I swung my leg, aiming for the bulge between his thighs. But of course, he moved, snapping his legs shut and trapping my leg between his thighs before it could attack the vital area. I was left standing precariously on the leg with the bruised ankle, but that gave me the opening that I had truly been hoping for. Using all my strength I smashed my wrists out of his loosened grasp. This time around, I did not miss.
Quick as an arrow, I balled my fist and struck his face. The blow was so hard his head turned and I lost my balance. I fell on top of him. I went down with him, not even minding the fall for a single second. Before I could catch my breath, he had pushed me off him and was sitting up, his thumb pressed against the corner of his lip. It came away with blood. His cap had flown off his head and landed a few feet away and when he turned his gaze on me, I got the full force of those blue eyes. But they were no longer ocean blue.
They were dark. Incredibly dark. Like a stormy sky in December.
I crawled backwards and scrambled to my feet. I quickly recovered from the shock of seeing those eyes and glared back at him. “Still think I’m not a Siciliano?” I panted.
Ignoring me, which completely infuriated me, the bastard rose to his feet and strolled over to where his cap had fallen as if I hadn’t just taken him down and drew blood. He bent down to pick his cap up.
I saw my chance … and took it. While his gaze was on the ground and his body open for attack, I flew towards him. My leg was aimed at his stomach ready to inflict the kind of lethal kick that would drain the strength from his legs and make his collapse to the ground in a sorry heap. It was the only end to this quarrel I would accept. In fact, I needed to triumph over him. The need came from the depths of my soul.
As I was inches away from felling him, he whirled around and with his knees still bent, he grabbed onto the leg I had struck out—the perfect recipe for a disastrous fall.
In a split second, the world turned upside down for me.
I started to fall, and he pounced on me. It all happened so fast there wasn’t time to think or react, but with his weight crashing down on top of me I knew my landing would be hard. The summer had baked the ground into a hard surface and I expected nothing less than a cracked skull.