Chapter 2 A Fair Fight

Jordan’s Point of View  

"Did I give you permission to speak today?” Killian’s deep voice was wrapped in effortless elegance as he stared down at me. “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of my sight?”  

My throat tightened, and my body instinctively twisted away from him. I stumbled back to put some distance between us, but I hadn’t gone so far when he snatched my wrists, effortlessly yanking me back.  

“Ugh,” I gasped when I collided with his chest again, and more of his scent wrapped around me. 

"Told you Killian would lose it when he got here," Joe snickered. 

Killian cut him a single look. 

The grin vanished from Joe's face. 

The very moment I decided to stand up for myself in this hallway, I knew I was breaking one of his golden rules—but being scared to speak won’t fix my phone.  

All that matters to me right now is that phone.  

I don’t care what anyone else does or says.  

“Are you forgetting your place?” He questioned, the mint from his breath fanned across my face as he leaned into me.  

“And what exactly is my place?” I retorted. “A scholarship freak has no right to claim compensation for her damaged property?”  

Surprise flickered in his eyes, and I know why. 

In the last two years, no matter what they did, I had never talked back to them—but today was different.  

There is no way I was missing that job opportunity because of some annoying rich slobs, who will probably never know what it feels like to live my life. My ribs still hurt from Greg’s kicks, yet I still push myself, and I try even harder to survive.  

“Kill, what are you doing?” Another deep voice cut through the tension, and my eyes flickered in the direction of the speaker. My heart stopped in my chest when my eyes met the honey-brown eyes that belonged to Nolan.  

They were soft and deep, but they had a flicker of disapproval in them. He let out a stiff sigh before walking up to us. 

I turned my gaze away from him, somehow feeling embarrassed about being caught in the chaos, and heat crept up my cheeks.    

“Are you picking on her again?” He finally neared us, and a soft scent of vanilla filled my nose, contrasting the sharp scent of Killian.  

“To pick on someone, they have to actually be worth my time,” Killian murmured with a bored expression.  

I tried to wrench my hand free, but his grip tightened. “Someone of significant value.”  

My eyes darted towards Nolan, silently begging for help.  

In the entire school, Nolan is the only person who has never said any horrible thing to me; he had never joined their banters or bullying and always did all he could to stop it if he was present. 

Maybe that was the reason my brain saw him as a means of comfort, so I ended up developing feelings for him. I know that having such feelings is equal to digging my own grave.  

Killian caught me staring hopefully at Nolan, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, and I averted my gaze a little too fast. Killian is particularly territorial about things that belonged to him—and did I mention that my supposed crush is my worst enemy’s best friend, and he is completely off limits?   

“Be careful, Jordan." Killian leaned down, his lips brushing against my ears. “Or I might have to stop ignoring your existence.”  

“What’s going on here? Why is there a crowd in the hallway?” A sharp voice cut through the tension. Mr. Benjamin, the vice principal's dark eyes settled on me.   

“Are you causing trouble again, Jordan?” He asked. 

Killian suddenly lets go of my wrist before turning his indifferent gaze toward Mr. Benjamin. 

“Why don’t you ever learn?” Mr. Benjamin sighed. 

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," he said, offering a polite nod to Killian and Nolan before turning back to me. There was a hierarchy of how things worked in the school, and Killian Maddox sat at the very top—he was untouchable, and the rules were made to be broken by him.  

“Come with me, Jordan.” He barked at me; heat flooded me, but I lowered my head and followed him wordlessly.  

“Is it so difficult to stay out of their damned way?” He led me into his office; my hands remained balled at my side as I tried to keep everything inside me. “Why are you always causing trouble?”  

“I didn’t do anything…” I started, my voice heavy with emotions. “Joe and some boys were riding their skateboards in the hallway; they broke my phone.”  

Mr. Benjamin strolled to his chair when we got to his office.  

“You shouldn’t fight a battle you cannot win. Instead of always being the center of trouble, try to avoid Killian as much as you can.” 

It still revolved around the same warning they had given me. 

‘Stay away from Killian.’  

‘Avoid him.’  

‘He is very important to the school.’  

Tears gathered in my eyes, and my throat became heavy with an emotion I couldn’t fully process.  

“What about me?” I asked curiously. “Doesn’t it bother you that I might be hurt? Am I less of a student than Killian? My parents might not make big donations to the school, but does that make me less of a person?”  

Mr. Benjamin sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. 

“As much as I want to help you, I can’t, Jordan.” He confessed. “Some matters are just beyond me.” 

I stood there for a while, the tears streaming down my face. Then I turned to leave, when his voice stopped me; this time it was softer.  

"Jordan." I turned. “Please come back.”  

I sniffed, wiping the tears from my cheeks.  

“Have a seat,” he offered me, pointing towards the chair. “Look, I don’t want you to see me as some incompetent person, but there is really nothing I can do to Killian—you know, he is a very important student to the school.” 

I lowered my gaze because he was right. Killian is called king for a reason; charging headfirst into a battle with the king is just suicide.   

“But if you intend to fight, there might be a way for you to fight without getting in trouble.”  

My eyebrows shot up. What did he mean by that? 

He opened the drawer and brought out a file. He handed it to me, and I wiped the tears from my eyes.  

I scanned through the file, then my eyes flickered towards him in disbelief.  

“You want me to join the Student Sport Committee?” I asked with my eyes wide with shock, and he nodded.  

“The only thing Killian cares about is football, and that is also his only weakness,” he advised. “If you attack him where he is weak, he might be the one to call for a truce.”  

My gaze shifted back to the paper in my hand, and I bit down on my lips—this plan was dangerous, but it might actually work.  

“I will do it,” I answered. “But if it’s possible, can I ask for one more favor?”