Chapter 22
The Idea
Ian
I’m surprised when I return from grocery shopping Saturday at noon—a week after Jenna accepted our terms—and hear punching sounds and heavy grunting from upstairs. I didn’t think Killian would actually take me up on my suggestion of using the punching bag.
I close the front door quietly and set the bags down, just listening for a few minutes. When my gaze drifts to the grocery bags, I get the thought that maybe I should follow Killian’s suggestions as well and get a maid who can cook and do the grocery shopping.
I consider it for one second before shaking the idea out of my head. I don’t like having people here who don’t belong in my house. Having a maid come and clean once a week is more than enough. I can never truly relax when she’s here. Besides, I enjoy the mundane tasks of shopping and cooking.
The grunting gradually gets louder, and when I go into the kitchen to unpack, I hear the faint sounds of “Argh” and “Fuck” seeping through the floor.
Killian sounds pissed, and it makes me smile.
Because I know for a fact that he is pissed, and he needs a more aggressive outlet than the piano and his weightlifting.
His frustration has been palpable during the week, but he has kept himself in check and stayed away from Jenna.
Even in the piano lessons I’ve included him in, he hasn’t spoken much, just accepted his passive role, even though I could tell he was itching to do more.
Jenna has also been taking it well, gradually getting used to being close to him.
Yesterday, when I had her play with him in the evening, her shoulders were only bunched up tight for the first few minutes before she sank into the routine of simply playing.
But sitting quietly beside him on a piano bench is not enough.
She needs to get a taste of the things he’ll do to her—in a safe environment.
She needs to know that she’s ultimately under my protection.
As much as her trust in me has grown with surprising ease, she needs to know that she can trust me where Killian is concerned as well—that I won’t let him cross a line.
An idea pops into my mind.
I want to go upstairs and run it by Killian immediately, but I wait a while, not wanting to interrupt his boxing. In fact, I’m not even going to let him know that I heard. It might just deter him from doing it again. Dealing with his anger issues is a sore subject.
When I finally go upstairs, Killian is in his room, hair wet from a shower, grabbing a white dress shirt from his closet.
“I’d like all three of us to have dinner together tonight,” I say.
“I’m not really in the mood.” He doesn’t look at me, just puts on the shirt and starts buttoning it.
“Not just to eat.”
His eyes dart to me.
“I want to try a little play,” I explain. “Not much. Something like what we did in my office last Saturday.”
Surprise widens his eyes. “Really?”
“And I want you to push her. Close to her limit.”
An angry shadow passes over his face. “Don’t mess with me. Not about this.”
“I’m not. I don’t want you to go all the way there, just close. Then I’ll stop you.”
“I thought you were trying to make her feel safe.”
“I am. But you’re not the one she needs to feel safe with—not at first, at least. She needs to trust me in order to ever feel somewhat comfortable about being sent up here.”
He nods slowly. “You want me to be the bad guy, so you can be her savior.”
“Basically.”
“Well, I’d be more than happy to. Do you have something in mind, or do I get to decide?”
I consider for a moment. “You can decide. As long as you run your plan by me first.”
Sucking his lower lip between his teeth, he nods enthusiastically, eyes coming alive as he starts devising ideas.
“Dinner will be ready at seven,” I say and turn to leave. I really hope I’m not going to regret this. That worry seems to be the very foundation of this arrangement, and it makes me ask myself what I was thinking when I started all of this.
The answer comes to me when I leave Killian’s room and walk down the stairs to check on my little pianist.
When I told Killian to look her up a couple of months ago, all I cared about was him winning the competition.
I thought Jenna would be just another one of Killian’s inconsequential girls, who needed to be kept in line.
By the time I realized there was so much more to her, I was in too deep to pull the plug.
I had no idea I would care so much for her.