Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Jordan had learned a lot in prison, but the one lesson coming in handy right now was how to tune out the noise. If Princess Pain-in-the-Ass thought her loud music and cacophony of clicking heels would annoy him into submission, she had another thing coming.
If only he could get his boys on board. Every time he glanced at the gym doors, he found one of them with their face glued to the window, giving a play-by-play of what was happening in the hall.
Each girl got a pair of those fancy high heels Vanessa seemed to prefer. That was the first distraction. The second was harder for his team to ignore—the girls strutting under Vanessa’s enthusiastic instruction.
Noticing his point guard peering out the window, Jordan threw the basketball his way. “Beck!” He released the ball as he shouted, giving the kid’s reflexes a chance to kick in. “Look alive, man.”
Beck caught the ball, his cheeks turning pink at being busted staring. “Sorry, Coach, they’re just so…” He glanced back to the window. “Distracting.”
Jordan sighed as he crossed to the kid. He got it. He really did. Few things were more distracting than beautiful women in heels.
The second he looked out the window, his eyes found her.
She had a high ponytail, a t-shirt half tucked under her bra exposing a slice of her toned stomach, and a pair of comfortable sweatpants rolled up to the knee.
On her feet were a pair of mile-high stilettos with a thin strap around her slender ankles.
Even in her casual outfit and restrained hair, she looked classy, expensive. A different league entirely.
Distracting didn’t even begin to cover it.
As if she sensed his presence, Vanessa’s gaze lifted and collided with his through the window, and maybe he should’ve been embarrassed, but to hell with it.
He couldn’t be bothered. He ate her up, every inch, his mind wandering to the dark dreams that featured her.
Soft skin, smooth legs wrapped around his waist, hoarse cries against his ear as he moved inside her—
Fuck. This had to stop. How would he erase her from his mind if she was in his face all the damn time?
“Right?” Beck said from beside him, snapping him back to reality.
“Yeah, man.” He gave the kid a friendly clap on the shoulder as he drew him away from the door. “My best advice is, get used to it, and learn to ignore it.” God knew he had to.
Twenty minutes later, Vanessa’s angry shout raised the hairs on the back of his neck, breaking his focus. Before he could think, his instincts kicked in. He stopped dribbling and raced to the double doors.
When he threw them open, the cold rush of dread flooded his veins. Vanessa was squaring off with a scrawny shithead with bloodshot eyes and barely contained rage twisting his face.
“First of all,” she shouted, as she pushed the intruder square in the chest with both hands. “You need to fuck all the way off.”
The man shoved Vanessa back, making her stumble.
Jordan was across the hall in an instant, inserting his body between the two of them, one hand planting in the middle of the stranger’s chest, and the other gripping Vanessa’s arm.
He scanned the guy for weapons. Nothing obvious. He didn’t look old enough to be packing anything other than bravado, but that didn’t mean anything.
“Good, you’re here,” Vanessa said in that haughty tone of hers, sounding completely unaware of the possible danger she was in. “Can you please remove this jerk from the premises? He was verbally assaulting one of my girls, and I think we should call the police.”
Sharp nails scored Jordan’s forearms as she tried to get ahead of him again. And here he thought there were no exposed weapons.
“That bitch owes me a hundred bucks.” The stranger jabbed his finger over Jordan’s shoulder, then lunged forward again.
Jordan let go of Vanessa and turned to block the man from moving another inch. Up close, Jordan realized the punk wasn’t much older than the boys on his team.
“Should we really call the police?” Someone in the back asked.
There was a loud sob, and even though he knew it wasn’t Vanessa, it did nothing to ease the pressure in his chest. Damn it, someone could’ve hurt her or any one of those girls. On his fucking watch.
“You know what? Call the fucking police. I don’t care. Jail doesn’t scare me,” the intruder said, but the way his eyes darted to the side, Jordan knew he was full of shit.
“Yeah, well, you’re not dealing with the police right now.” Jordan kept his voice quiet, deliberate. “You’re dealing with me.” It was threat enough, and it echoed down the now silent hallway.
This kid was one bad decision away from pissing himself, and he knew it.
The punk’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes were bloodshot, not from drugs like Jordan had first thought, but from fear. Or maybe exhaustion? From life being too hard, for too long, for someone far too young?
“What’s your name?”
“Fuck you.”
Jordan blinked. “If that’s your name, I recommend changing it.”
The younger man tried to jerk away, but Jordan blocked him. So far, he hadn’t touched him. He didn’t want to teach this kid that force was the only way to win at life.
“Name,” he demanded.
With a quick glance and a second of deliberation, he finally admitted, “Murray.”
“How old are you, Murray?”
Murray’s eyes narrowed. “Twenty-one.”
Jordan’s brow arched. “You sure about that?”
“I’ll be twenty-one in June,” Murray muttered.
“Tell me why you came here and threatened these women, Murray.”
Murray shot a look at someone over his shoulder. “She owes me a hundred bucks, and I need it back now.”
“I don’t have it.” A quivering voice cut through the tension behind Jordan.
Vanessa’s voice came next, soft and sweet. “It’s okay, Rory, you don’t have to speak to jerks who come in like torpedoes and demand things from you.” Then she whispered, “Men usually suck,” before she tried to slide around him again.
Damn it, why didn’t she ever stay put?
Nudging her back, he met the fire in her gaze with a cold stare of his own. For once she conceded, retreating to wrap her arm around Rory’s slumped shoulders and pull her close.
When their gazes collided again, the fight was still there, but so was a fierce, unapologetic protectiveness. Vanessa cared about these girls. She wasn’t posturing. She was standing up for them.
Something in his heart squeezed, and he turned toward Murray.
“If I give you the hundred bucks, do you promise to leave everyone alone?” Jordan’s words were a tight, controlled offer.
“I need my money, man. I got rent overdue.” Murray’s expression flickered with genuine desperation.
Jordan nodded slowly, sensing the truth.
“I’ll give you the money,” he said, his voice sharpening, “but here’s the deal.
You take it, and you walk out that door.
You don’t touch Rory. You don’t talk to her.
Or I swear I’ll call the cops myself, and you and I both know you’re too old for juvie.
” He leveled a hard stare at the kid. “Big-boy jail is not the place you want to end up. Trust me.” He leaned in, lowering his voice a fraction. “Understand?”
Murray swallowed and nodded.
“Say it,” Jordan pressed.
“I understand,” Murray mumbled.
Jordan didn’t let his guard down. He waited, watching for any sign that this kid might flip, might lunge again.
When there was nothing, he slowly pulled his wallet from his back pocket and took out two crisp fifties.
“Take this straight to your landlord. Give it to them and no one else. No excuses, no games.”
Murray snatched the money and shoved it in his pocket. “Got it.” He looked Jordan square in the eye, with a relief he knew all too well. “Thanks.” Then he spun and bolted for the door. Jordan watched him, but before his next breath, he heard his own voice ring out. “Murray!”
The kid stopped, half turning, brow furrowed, caught off guard.
“You play basketball?” This better not be a mistake.
Murray’s shoulders rose in a half-hearted shrug. “Sometimes.”
“I need an assistant coach.” When he caught the flicker of longing in Murray’s side-eye to the boys holding their basketballs, he knew his instincts were right. “Tomorrow, three o’clock. Don’t make me wait.”
Jordan didn’t miss the tiny lift at the corner of Murray’s mouth before he nodded.
It wasn’t much, but it was something. The kid probably hadn’t been offered a chance in a long time, and Jordan knew better than anyone, one chance, a shot in the dark, a nudge in the right direction, was all that was needed.
The ball was in Murray’s court now, and Jordan hoped he took the shot. Murray shuffled down the hallway and out the center’s front door.
Suppressing a sigh, he faced the crowd behind him, and his heart promptly jammed in his throat.
Vanessa had Rory wrapped in a hug, rubbing her back soothingly, murmuring words he couldn’t quite hear. When they pulled apart, Rory’s cheeks were wet.
“Group hug,” Vanessa called, arms widened to the other girls.
They all rushed in, surrounding her.
“Everyone okay?”
Quiet murmurs bubbled up from the huddle. A moment later, when they broke apart, he caught Vanessa discreetly wiping her eye.
Feeling like he’d intruded on a private moment, he strode toward the gym’s door. When he paused to glance over his shoulder to check if Murray was still gone, he nearly collided with Vanessa, who’d followed him.
In her heels, she stood tall, almost nose to nose with him. Her chin lifted, eyebrows drawn in with irritation. “I had that handled, Zeus,” she hissed.
It took everything in him not to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, because of course she couldn’t simply say thank you.
“Yeah, I remember exactly how you handle things, princess,” he shot back smoothly. Unable to resist the urge to needle her further, he leaned in, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “But I was hoping the next time you kissed me, it would be in private.”
She gasped, and he grinned.
Then, facing the horde of wide-eyed, awestruck young people, he sidestepped Vanessa, and barged his way through the crowd.
“Practice isn’t over for another ten minutes, gentlemen,” he yelled, seamlessly shifting gears.
He pushed open one of the gym doors and wedged a wooden doorstop underneath it.
“And from now on, strutting practice will be in here.”
They all filed back inside the gym, leaving only Vanessa in the hall.
With a dramatic sweep of his arm, he gestured to the gym. “After you.”
She strutted past him with a flip of her glossy hair, and he ate up the gesture with a smile, because there was no one he loved getting the brush-off from more than Vanessa Barone.