Chapter 5 Welcome To Hell

Killian’s Point of View

I was about to start changing when I received my mother’s text, urging me to come home right away.

My eyes narrowed at the message, as I wondered why she wanted me home so suddenly, but I didn’t complain—I never had to complain or argue with my mom, unlike many teenagers my age.

I had a very healthy relationship with my mother.

I got up in that instant, grabbed my bags and proceeded towards the door. I was almost out of the door when Nolan approached me, already dressed in his kit.

“Hey, where are you going?” his eyes flicked me up and down. “We have practice.”

“Yeah,” I said absentmindedly because I fucking knew we had practice.

“Mom wants me home,” I explained, and in that moment, his eyebrows tightened. “And she didn’t say why.”

“Is everything okay?”

“She didn’t mention anything,” I said, shrugging. “Just tell the coach that something came up.”

“Should I come?” He offered, pulling me back again. “Do you think she needs help with something?”

I shook my head.

“You can’t also bail on training today.” I threw a soft punch on his shoulders. “If it’s something serious, I will call you.”

Of all the things that I thought could have happened, meeting that scholarship freak in my house was the one thing I didn’t think about.

Jordan Freaking Carter was standing just a few centimeters away from my mother, and a single thought echoed in my head.

Does she have a death wish?

The moment her eyes met mine, they went so wide, I thought her eyeballs were going to roll out of their sockets. She probably died and came back to life as she stood there with that horrified expression on her face.

A soft chuckle escaped me because of how pathetic she looked—like a rabbit cornered by a wolf.

“Is this the best you could find, Mom?” I asked pointedly, and Mother seemed genuinely confused; her eyes flickered between Jordan and me.

Before Mother could ask the question that obviously hovered on her lips, Jordan courageously lunged forward.

“Hello, Killian…” Then she even had the nerve to smile at me. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

I stepped forward, daring her to remain in that same position, and she fucking did.

“I will leave you both to introduce yourselves; it’s time for me to pick Kole and Kara from school.” Mother grabbed her bag from the glass table in a hurry; her eyes darted towards Jordan, who seemed more frightened now that she realized that she would be left alone with me. “And Jordan, I would be very happy if you could wait for dinner…Killian, please show her around the house.”

I cocked my head to the side, waiting patiently to hear the sound of the door click, and when it came…

A loud, raspy breath escaped Jordan.

“I-I can explain…” She started in that instant. “I was looking for a part-time job, and Mrs. Benita was hiring—I didn’t know… I couldn’t have known that she was your mother.”

I took another step forward, and this time, her bravado fell; her body stumbled backward.

I couldn’t tell what was going through her fucking head most of the time. She looked harmless, yet she was the only reason I had even a blot on my name and career. What was she up to this time? Was she trying to get revenge on me? Or did the rival team plant her in my house to further ruin my reputation?

“You have to tell my mom; you’re not going to accept the job offer then.” I declared, as I folded my arms across my chest. “Since you now know this is my house, nothing is stopping you from quitting, right?”

   The words lingered in the air; she didn’t respond to my question. Instead, her eyes fell to her feet, and she bit her lip.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Jordan,” I warned when I realized what was going on. “You will wait, and when my mom comes back, you will apologize to her, and tell her you made a mistake, and then you’ll leave.”

“No.” Came the refusal; it was soft and quick.

“No?”  

Her lips remained pursed stubbornly.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” She answered.

I knew it; there had to be something- the reason she would be so bold as to even remain standing in front of me.

“Are you a masochist?” I took another step further. “Or are you secretly in love with me or something?”

A thick grimace crossed her face; as much as she was insignificant to me, her expression seemed to tamper with my ego. Because did she really just make that face because I accused her of being in love with me?

“Believe me…” She took another step back, but I covered the distance, backing her into a wall. “I really didn’t come here for you. Mrs. Benita offered me employment, and I want to keep it because it was a good offer, and I need the money.”

I slammed her against the wall, and a sharp gasp escaped her lips; she quickly covered her mouth with her hands.

 “This has to be some sick joke,” I muttered, my eyes trailing down her panicked face—this was the closest we had ever been since that incident. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

It didn’t make sense for her to be willing to still work even after she just realized that it was my house. My mom will be away for months, and it would just be the two of us.

Is there any dysfunctional part of her brain telling her I would magically stop hurting her?

“I honestly didn’t.” Her voice quivered. “I really didn’t know this was your house.”

“Then quit.” I snapped. “Now that you can, shouldn’t you run as far away from me as possible?”

“I’m sorry that you hate me, but you’re just going to have to live with it.” Her voice was barely a whisper; for someone trying to be so courageous, she looked like she was going to pass out any moment now. “I need this job.”

A dark chuckle escaped my lips.

Placing both of my hands on either side of her head, I leaned into her face, and once more, I felt her breathing stop.

“That’s where you’re getting it wrong. You’ll be doing this for me now, Jordan.” I murmured, my fingers reached the sides of her face, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ears, and in that instant, they flushed pink.  “You’re here to do my laundry, cook my meals, scrub the floors, and when I tell you to kneel, you’ll do it with a smile.”

Unable to stop my curious finger, I traced the tip of her nose towards her lips; her breath hitched, but she didn’t resist me—she couldn’t. Her breathing was labored. The flavored scent of her hair wafted into my nose, and it made me pause for a second.

Wondering what it was.  

“Welcome home, Jordan.”  My thumb stopped just below her lips, and another gasp escaped her. “Or rather, welcome to fucking hell.”