Conquering an Untamed Flame (Johnny Storm fanfic)

Chapter 2: Your House Burnt Down

        Anger.

        Anger is one of the most powerful emotions out there, capable of quite possibly anything. Anger is what drives a lot of the planet’s criminals, or the criminals in history. Some men enjoy watching the world burn for what it has done to them, while other men take delight and satisfaction in the pain induced by them in the eyes of innocents or arch rivals.

        Anger can be found in many forms, and can be distributed in various ways. Some people react to anger in their system normally, shouting or maybe hitting things in a blind or scarcely controlled fury. Others react to anger in peculiar ways, like sarcasm, silence or over-cheeriness for example.  Then others, namely Chase, enjoy the more colourful approaches to releasing anger.

        “Shit! It’s a fucking burn Lucius! Not a damn dog! Rub it lightly!”

        Chase Ramiro. War.

        A scowl fixates on Lucas’ face. “It’s Lucas, and swearing as well as sarcasm are the lowest forms of wit. There is no need to yell foul language in my face, for I am right here, rewrapping your gauze for you like the good friend I am.” I swear that last bit had sass there….

        Chase’s face turns an alarming red. “I just want to get my hands on the prick that did this to me—”

        “GUYS!” Jordan comes sprinting into our securely hidden safe house in Asheville, North Carolina. It’s yet again another large estate, but this time it’s hidden in plain sight under Asheville’s Parkcorp tower. It reminds me of something out of the Hunger Games, the interior of it is quite Capital like, however we’re currently residing in Jordan’s office at the very top of the tower. The window walls are tinted to let a fair amount of sunlight in, but prohibit anyone from the outside to peer in. Not that anyone is 90 stories tall.

        When Jordan isn’t being Death but being a public face and multi-billionaire, he carries around his signature black walking stick with its small gold skull situated as the handle. As I have established though, it is really a sword and the black cane part is but a sheathe. Chase and Lucas are actually Jordan’s ‘bodyguards’ when in public, and I am his PA. It’s quite a brilliantly devised scheme.

        “What’s wrong now? Did he break your favourite Gameboy?” I inquire in a peeved manner. All the negativity in the atmosphere is getting to me. Anger. That should have been the fifth Horsemen.

        Jordan snorts. “No, that was demolished in the fire. He did however; manage to break into one of the only banks that hold a fraction or our shares and stole 3.2 million dollars!”

        I sigh exhaustedly as another load groan comes from a whining Chase. Running a tired hand over my face, I hesitantly ask “How much of a dent is that in our overall money?”

        Jordan gives me weird look. “Uh it’s not even a scratch in our overall money. I’ve given more money to the kids in East Timor. Still though! That’s my money! Dickwad can’t just waltz into my bank and take it like that!”

        Lucas intervenes the entire conversation. “You’ll definitely have scars Chase. They shouldn’t be noticeable along your arms or shoulder, but sections of your torso and back have severe damage in the tissue from third degree burns. As you would put it ‘You’ll have cool scars for the chicks that aren’t horrific enough to be ugly, but awesome enough to be awesome’. I actually received headache from the amount of stupidity I just spoke in a single sentence,” he mumbles the last part, massaging either sides of his temples with his thumbs exasperatedly.