Chapter 19
Nineteen
I ranthe backs of my knuckles over Jordan’s cheek, grazing her bottom lip with my index finger. As much as I hated waking her, I had practice, and the stadium was a forty-minute drive.
“Wake up, baby.”
Her eyelids fluttered, and Jordan stared at me with the vigor of an amnesia patient. “Wha?—”
I pressed a brief but firm kiss on her lips. It had her bolting upright, drawing attention to her naked state. Jordan shrieked, kicking out her legs.
Her gaze landed on the bedroom door, likely about to scream for help. Frustration boiled over me. We had rekindled our previous bond, yet she pretended like this was all being done against her will. “Don’t even think about screaming because no one’s coming for you.”
“Why the hell am I naked?” she demanded, scanning the rest of the unfamiliar room. “And where are we?”
“I helped take your clothes off before we went to bed. And we’re at my house in Lunenberg.”
“Lunen what?”
The lost tone in her words made me proud of my pick. This town might be beautiful, but it was fairly unremarkable on the top lists of places to visit. It was the perfect hideout until I sorted out Jordan’s paperwork.
I couldn’t keep this estate under wraps forever. Given my presence in the limelight and the schedule of my broadcasted games, Henry would always be cognizant of our general whereabouts. However, there was something truly distasteful about him having the address to where we slept at night.
“Lunenberg,” I repeated, motioning outside the window. Colorful houses were stacked alongside the harbor. The blue of the clear water sparkled under the bright sun like something out of a picture. “It’s a town in Nova Scotia. This estate is called?—”
“How did we get here?” she cut me off frantically, desperately trying to orient herself. “Why don’t I remember it?”
“You passed out. You were probably out of sorts from being dehydrated,” I explained, omitting that I had drugged her food.
What? I needed to get Jordan here without exposing the kidnapping. Technically, I didn’t lie to her because she did pass out from the drugs.
I extended the water bottle sitting on the nightstand. Her gaze flickered between the bottle and my face. When she didn’t reach for it, I returned it to the side table.
My scowl deepened as I contemplated how to get Jordan to accept this relationship faster. Despite how hard she fought me, it was still better to be with her than not. I held on to the hope that her defiance stemmed from being overwhelmed by the sudden changes in her life. Once the dust settled, she would see things differently and be more open to me. After all, who better to protect her from my father than his son? I knew his tricks better than anyone.
“I brought you here because Henry won’t look for you here,” I spoke carefully, letting her bleak alternative sink in.
The mere mention of the man who owned the deed to her life struck fear in her eyes. Jordan nodded slowly. She had spent enough time with Henry to know that running away from him would elicit harsh consequences. Sticking to the lesser of the two evils was to her benefit.
I tapped her on her lower back. “Time to get out of bed. Bathroom’s through there if you want to shower, and I already brought in your things.” I nodded at the adjacent door and then at the shopping bags. “You have twenty minutes to get ready.”
“Get ready for what?”
“My week off is officially over,” I notified her regretfully because I’d rather spend the day in bed with her. “I have practice in an hour.”
“So?”
“So get ready to leave for practice.”
Her forehead creased. “Why would I go to practice with you?”
I mirrored her incredulous look at the unreasonable question. “Because you go where I go.” Jordan had one foot out the door, and my father was trying to sink his claws into her again. Did she think I would let her out of my sight?
“People might see us together,” she protested.
“I don’t care. We stick together, no matter what.”
Her jaw dropped. “That sentiment will not be shared by your father. Henry will go ballistic if he sees us together.”
“Very soon, it won’t matter what Henry thinks.”
Her head lurched back as if just now remembering our conversation about her conservatorship.
Jordan sobered. “Please, Xander,” she said in a quiet voice. “Don’t file for my conservatorship. I can’t be under someone’s thumb again.”
“Jordan,” I placated with a heavy sigh. This wasn’t how I wanted to start the morning. “You know that the court requires you to have a conservator.”
“Only because I wasn’t of sound mind after my parents passed away, but that’s not the case anymore,” she cried.
“I know,” I said carefully. “But it’s still the law.”
“Then testify to the court on my behalf and appeal to revoke the need for a guardian.”
The idea had crossed my mind, but there was no way I could give up my last bit of control in this relationship—not while she remained apprehensive about us. “This is for the best,” I told her in my most soothing voice.
Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. “Every time I spoke out against your father, he’d ponder out loud whether returning me to the institution would be for the ‘best.’ I didn’t realize until now that it was a backhanded threat for contradicting him.” Her bottom lip trembled. “P-please, Xander. I don’t want to live like that again, always wondering if I was one wrong step away from being locked up again.”
“I’d never do that to you,” I vowed.
She shook her head. “You say that now.”
“Jordan—”
“The only thing I want is my freedom,” she murmured with her head down, seemingly defeated.
Closing my eyes, I blew out a frustrated breath. I finally had her where I wanted. The only way I’d remain calm was a guarantee that she’d stay by my side. “We’ll talk about this later. Now get ready because I’m not leaving without you.”
Jordan didn’t move.
Exasperated, I ripped the sheets off her, revealing a perfect pair of mouthwatering tits. The ticking clock was the only thing stopping me from pouncing on her.
Jordan squawked in outragewhen I plucked her off the bed and carried her into the bathroom. I carefully lowered her onto the shower floor and twisted the knob. She shrieked and swore when cold water doused her.
“What are you doing?” she cried out. “You’re mad!”
“Seventeen minutes,” I announced over my shoulders, striding out of the bathroom with one last regretful glance at her beautiful body.
“Uninvited puck bunnies aren’t allowed at practice. Did one of the players invite you? Otherwise, you need to go.” One of Halifax Trojan’s administrative staff scowled at Jordan. He didn’t recognize the person directing her to the bleachers since my baseball hat was pulled low, camouflaging my face.
Jordan appeared relieved by the rule, not wanting to sit in for my practice. The reaction pissed me off. “She isn’t a fucking puck bunny,” I barked at his disrespectful face. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Jordan opened her mouth to protest, but I squeezed her hand so tight that her voice came out as a mewl. I had reached the end of my rope with her denial and wouldn’t tolerate more contradiction.
“Xander Maxwell.” The man’s eyes blew wide. “I didn’t realize she was with you.” Still, his eyes darted unsurely at Jordan. “The coach said?—”
“She stays,” I declared, leaving no room for argument. I nodded at the security team standing by the exit to ensure they heard me. They acknowledged my order with a curt nod.
I contacted my cousins last night for security guard referrals. After finding out that I’d broken Henry’s nose, Damon immediately sent me a list, assuming the added measures were to protect me against my father’s retaliation. However, the two female guards who flew in from New York this morning were here to watch over Jordan.
I wasn’t about to allow a meet-cute between her and a nondescript male bodyguard in charge of protecting her. He only had to save her once to trigger some sort of Rescuer Syndrome. It might be a long shot, but still not a risk I was willing to take. The goal was to decrease Jordan’s daily contact with other men, not increase it.
My reasoning was proven within seconds.
The administrative staff returned his attention to Jordan, this time more appreciatively. He didn’t take her in carefully at first glance. She looked gorgeous even in simple black leggings and a jersey with my name on it, which I tricked her into wearing by hiding all the tops she had purchased. His expression warmed as soon as she untied her hair from the tight ponytail. Soft gold tresses fell around her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face and cherry lips. Heat blazed in his eyes while fire burned in mine.
“You like your eyes?” I growled. “If you want to keep them, you better look away. Right now!”
“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Leave. NOW!” I barked.
Jordan gasped as the man scurried away with his tail tucked between his legs.
“Was that necessary?” she chided, staring after him.
“Yes,” I snapped. “And keep your eyes on me, not on other men.”
Her jaw dropped. “What are you talking about? Why are you behaving this way—” Jordan snapped her mouth shut when voices floated into the rink. The invited puck bunnies took their designated seats. My teammates generally entered from around the back, but there were enough eyes on us to make her squirm.
Not wanting to make things worse between us, I left for the locker room to change for practice. She had been sullen since learning of my plan to take over her guardianship, and I didn’t know how to make things better.
What did she expect me to do? The court required her to have a guardian, and I couldn’t let Henry continue the role.
Perhaps the honorable thing to do would be to testify that Jordan was of sound mind and appeal to revoke the need for supervision, especially since she desperately wanted her freedom. It was fucked up to go against her wishes, but I was fucked up.Somewhere deep down, I knew she wouldn’t stick around unless I made her. No matter what she felt for me, she was unwilling to entertain a romantic relationship with her stepson.
That was why measures had to be taken, such as security and conservatorship. Throughout my life, I learned that no one would give me what I wanted unless I took it for myself.
A chill crept into my bones when I stepped onto the ice. Familiar adrenaline surged through me, and I skated alongside my team with an effortless glide. Growing up, I felt more at home on a frozen rink than at my actual home. The sentiment had never been stronger than this moment.
I glanced at Jordan.
How many times had I wished she was cheering me on in the stands? Though I’d finally dragged her here—albeit kicking and screaming—Jordan wasn’t exactly cheering me on.
Instead, she kept sneaking nervous glances at the security guards. At my instruction, they brought her breakfast and anything else she needed. They maintained distance, making their presence scarce so as not to spook her, but she remained wary.
Jordan was in a bind. She had nowhere to go, but as soon as she figured out an alternative, she’d make a run for it. Uneasiness lingered in my mind, making it difficult to concentrate on the warm-up.
“Maxwell!” Coach Foley shouted when I took a distracted shot and missed the empty net. He was a heavy-stock man with thinning hair and a grim expression he wore a little too well. And right now, his scowl was directed at me. “What the hell are you doing?”
His anger was justified. I was performing terribly, and it was only the warm-up. Even the elementary drill of passing the puck back and forth ended tragically for me.
I loved hockey and had looked forward to sharing this part of my life with Jordan. However, I was failing miserably at impressing her, and ironically, she was the cause of my poor performance. My attention kept drifting to the displeased woman on the bleachers.
At this rate, I might as well hang up the skates. I could see why Coach Foley hated it when wives, girlfriends, or puck bunnies hung around the rink. Distractions, he called them. But he didn’t understand that not having Jordan there would be a bigger distraction. Not knowing what she was doing every moment of the day would drive me insane, especially with Henry’s threats looming over me.
At least I could breathe if she was within my grasp.
“Come on, man. Wake your ass up.” Mark shoved my shoulder. “Are you playing this shitty because of her?” He glanced at Jordan and immediately returned for a second look.
Suddenly, I wanted to pluck his eyes out.
“Whoa! Who is she? She’s hot as fuck, eh?”
I gave him the biggest back-off look, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Don’t even think about it, and definitely don’t look at her again,” I growled. “She’s not for you.”
Mark threw up a surrendering palm. “Hey, man. Take it easy. I was kidding.”
“Well, don’t.”
He skated past me, realizing he had touched a nerve, but it only went downhill from there.
Every player who noticed Jordan stopped in their tracks for a second glance. I knew what those fuckers were thinking, their greedy eyes ogling my woman. I debated slaughtering my entire team, but Jordan was already wary of my intentions. Mass murder wouldn’t help my case.
To their credit, my teammates got the hint after I shot them repeated death glares and scowls. It wasn’t the first time a random woman had shown up to our practice wearing one of our jerseys and dreaming of becoming the next Mrs. NHL. But it was the first time I was distracted by one of them, and I fully expected them to grill me about her after practice.
“Maxwell!” Coach screamed again, probably about another massive fuckup on my end.
This time, I didn’t bother hiding my distraction when I found Jordan talking to the same administrative staff from earlier. Her eyes weren’t on me as I had politely requested but on the man giggling like a little girl at something she said.
What the hell?
As soon as practice ended, I skated toward them instead of heading to the locker room with the rest of the guys.
This is bullshit.
Every man who came across Jordan was enamored with her. Henry’s associates used to fall prey to her charms. The years in between hadn’t changed a thing. Everyone stared at her when we went to that country club for lunch. My teammates were just as affected, and the scumbag administrative assistant looked smitten.
They didn’t know her like I did or share our connection and inside jokes. Unlike them, I wouldn’t care if Jordan was fat, scarred, or deformed. I’d want her all the same. In fact, it may ease my mind if she gained weight or broke out in blemishes. Then some of this unwanted attention would lessen.
Perhaps I could inject lard into her meals.
Fuck.
I felt paranoid. Back in high school and during my freshmen year of college, I never worried about losing the few women I casually dated—if you could call it that. Then again, Jordan wasn’t just another girl.
She was my obsession, who happened to hold the title of the most beautiful woman on earth.
I was starting to panic that others might find out about it. I wanted to hide this precious gem because surely, if they knew, they’d want a piece of her, right? They’d line up and offer anything for her to pick them over me.
Why shouldn’t the most beautiful woman on earth have her pick?
Who else had perfectly proportionate features?
If men stared at her long enough, surely they’d figure it out. I had to divert their attention and distract them from looking at her. But how?
In a toxically ironic twist, I could almost—kind of—understand why Henry kept her locked up in the house and never gave anyone access to her. I mean, he gave me access, and look at what I did.
I stole her at the first opportunity.
What was to stop other men from doing the same?
I hopped over the railing and charged at the administrative assistant. “What the fuck is this?”
“Jesus.” Jordan jolted, holding a soda in her hands. “When did practice end?”
“If you had kept your eyes on me like I had asked, you would’ve known.” I threw my stick to the side and stepped between Jordan and the man.
She glanced unsurely between us. “Liam here brought me a soda because he thought I looked thirsty.”
I took the can out of her hands and chucked it at him. He caught it against his chest with a yelp. Jordan appeared mortified, and I had no idea what I planned to achieve except her attention was the only thing that could’ve made things better between us.
“Your soda isn’t what she’s thirsty for,” I informed him.
I glanced back to ensure the rest of the team had retreated to the locker room before gripping the nape of her neck and slamming my lips against hers. She was shocked and fisted my shirt for balance.
I was aware of the fucker watching us awkwardly and circled my arm around her waist to bring her closer. One hand rested on her ass, the other around her throat, while I devoured her mouth.
“Er… okay. You folks have a good day now.” He spoke from somewhere in the distance.
I didn’t let her respond to his last pathetic stab at vying for her attention and tightened my hold around her throat. The firm hold silently dared Jordan to break the kiss to bid him farewell. Any tighter, and I’d cut off her oxygen, but she got the message.
My fingers relaxed when he disappeared. Jordan gripped my hand to pry it off her throat, but I wasn’t ready to let go. I held her to my chest, letting her feel my hard muscles against her soft body.
“Do we have a problem?” I asked under my breath. “Is there a reason you were looking at other men after I explicitly told you not to?”
Jordan stared at me as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re acting crazy,” she whispered at last.
“And you should know better.” I clasped her nape and watched her suck in a breath. “Never piss off a crazy man.”