Chapter Three
Emma pulled into the driveway of the large ranch home, hearing the gravel crunch underneath her tires. She parked her car next to a large, black Veneno Roadster. Fast car for a fast guy. She regretted coming here already.
She inspected the house. After all, if this meeting went well, she'd be seeing a lot more of this house in the future.
The outer shell of the house consisted of a beautiful grey stone. The door was wooden, rounded at the top, making the house give off a home kind of vibe. Emma counted her lucky stars that she even knew what a home felt like, only ever living in homes for a few months at a time, never truly being wanted or accepted until she found David. She silently thanked David yet again.
Emma stepped out of the car, slamming the door to her yellow bug. She squinted despite the sunglasses currently resting on her face. It was beautiful. She was on the slope of a huge hill, the sun beaming down on her. She took a couple steps, content on looking around. She could hear hawks whistling through the hill tops, could see green for miles. The view was unbeatable, as was the solitude. There was a certain peace way up here, where no one could find you.
With that thought in mind, she considered what she was doing. He lived here because he didn't want to be found. It wasn't like his long driveway and the fact that he was way up in the hills screamed a large welcome. And she had no idea what to do. What would she say to him? "Hi, I've never met you before, but your brother left me a note after his suicide and, oh, by the way, I'd like to be your new coach because I think you could make it to the Olympics"? Yeah, she didn't think that was very good either.
She stalked back to the car, thinking about what the speed limits were around this area and how fast of a getaway she could make. Before she sat, she reached into the passenger seat and snatched the printed version of Liam's email out. She was still calculating how easy it would be to leave, still weighing her decision. She knew she needed a job, but she wasn't sure how to do this. Maybe another top prospect would come knocking at her door in the next week or so.
She doubted it too. She'd almost talked herself out of knocking on the front door until she heard a loud crash from the inside of the house, followed by a loud "Bloody hell, where'd that come from?!" She tried to talk herself out of making sure everything was alright until she was already knocking on the door. The inside of the house went silent.
There was a long pause and Emma considered sprinting back to her car and driving off. This was stupid. Why did she think to come out here? Why did she think it would be a good idea?
She turned away from the door, eager to leave already, when she heard the door fly open. She turned around and stared at the boy for a moment.
She immediately corrected herself. This was not a boy. Not by a long shot. This was quite the man. He had cutting, glacier blue eyes paired with unruly dark hair. His eyes were reddened, either from crying, lack of sleep, or the sharp smell of alcohol radiating off him. She guessed that it was probably a mix of all three. She took the rest of him in. His sharp jaw had stubble trailing across it; she could tell it'd been a few days since he last properly took care of himself. He had a blue t shirt on, hinting at the muscular chest that hid underneath. His feet were bare and he was in black sweatpants. He painted quite the picture. But upon further inspection, Emma saw the brokenness. The subtle weakness that had slipped in. His hallow cheeks paired with a pale stain. Weak. She figured losing a family member must do that to a person.
Her brain started yelling at her to leave, that she couldn't take on his troubles along with her own, but she was stuck, rooted to the spot. She didn't know why, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the man in front of her.
"Killian Jones?" She asked softly, hoping not to startle him. His eyes glazed over as they finished taking her in. She figured it was the liquor.
"Aye, love. And you are?" He inquired, his blue eyes landing on her green ones. Emma knew she should turn and run. Her feet just wouldn't obey her.
"Emma Swan. Ex-Olympic swimmer and swim coach-" Killian began to shut the door on her, muttering under his breath, annoyed that no one was understanding enough to leave him alone for a few days. No one, especially someone looking to capitalize on his loss, would ever replace his brother.
"Wait!" Emma shouted, sticking her foot in the door. Killian felt the anger begin to bubble in his chest, but he stopped closing the door, his nose barely poking out of it. "I, um," she wasn't sure how she was supposed to do this, "I have a note. Uh, I mean. Your brother-"
The look on Killian's face grew desperate and he opened the door so he could step through it. Emma immediately backed away. However, this time, the paper slipping through Emma's fingers caught his eye. He arched an eyebrow. "Aye, what of him?" He tried to keep his voice steady, despite the buzzing in his head and the shaking fingers resting at his side.
"He sent me an email. You know, before he…" Emma didn't have the courage to say the word. She wasn't sure how Killian would react and she didn't like the thought of him threatening her or Henry, but she also hated the idea of him crying and her being forced into comforting him. Either way, she'd have to make a run for it.
The flames rising in Killian were immediately doused in cold water. "You have what?" He came closer to her and she instinctively backed away from him again, putting her hands up. She could smell the rum on his breath now.
She held up the piece of paper that contained Liam's final thoughts. Killian's eyes were glued to it, throwing his icy blue glare back up to her for a minute. "I printed it off for you. I'm going to be your new coach."
Killian's eyes slammed into hers, fire beginning to thin the ice. "Absolutely not. Nothing in that letter will make you my new coach. No."
His eyes remained trained on the paper, his fingers twitching at his sides. Emma could tell how anxious he was to read what his brother had to say. "Yes. Jones, I would not be on this doorstep if I didn't think you had the ability to go to the Olympics. And I want to be the one to take you there."
Killian chewed on his lip for a moment, but it was purely for show. He was not about to get into that pool. "Sorry, Swan, but no. I'm not swimming anymore."
Killian knew this was the wrong answer when the emeralds in her eyes began to burn.
Emma wasn't about to leave with her tail between her legs. She had spent a week – one full week! – before she even decided she should come here. She wasn't about to leave without that job. Absolutely not.
They stared at each other for several moments, both waiting to see what the other would do. Blue eyes clashed with green in a challenge before Emma made her decision. She began to rip the paper.
Even is his drunken state, Killian knew he was fighting a losing battle. This was one determined lass. But he still decided against giving in just yet. He wasn't going down without a fight. And it better be a good one.
"Now, lass, you don't want to do that." His logical mind was screaming at him, telling him to rip the paper out her hands, close the door, and walk away. But there was something about her fire that he wouldn't mind losing to.
"Don't I?" Emma saw his eye flicker as the tear in the paper got deeper. "Because I think you need to know what this email says. I wonder why he left me a note, but not you. Oh, wait, I do know."
Killian felt the breath leave him. He'd kept thinking the same thing over the past week. How could Liam leave him? And why had he done it? And now, there was anger and hurt brewing in his mind as he asked himself, "Why would Liam have left a note to a stranger and not the person he claimed to have matter most?"
Emma could see the cogs turning in Killian's head as he tried to process everything, but she kept the motion of her hands steady. "Five seconds to make a decision, Jones."
The slow rip was consistent with the breaking of Killian's heart. On one hand, Killian wanted answers. He was desperate for them. And they were all sitting out in front of him, being taunted and used as means to get someone else something they wanted. On the other hand, Killian didn't like this one bit. He needed those answers, but he wasn't going to be a means to an end for this blonde stranger. He wasn't going to let her force him back into swimming.
"Three more seconds, Jones. Then you'll never know."
Killian prided her on her determination. Had this tactic not been used against him, he would've appreciated it way more. But he didn't need a coach. He didn't need anything except for an understanding, an answer. And this firey woman held the key in her hands.
There was a sudden shriek from the car. Emma's challenging gaze broke, her focus dropping for a second. Killian lunged out from his spot and yanked the paper from her hands. Emma's eyes went wide as she processed what had happened. She launched herself at him, attempting to take the paper back, but he held it just out of her reach.
"Jones! Stop! Give me my email back!" She tried demanding, but it only led him to smirk.
"You know, lass, I think I'll keep this. Thanks for the offer though."
"Jones! No! You got your email, now I get to coach you!"
His smirk got bigger. Emma was already regretting her attempt taking him on as a client. She no longer knew which one of them was going to break. "Now, Swan, I think I'm the one with the leverage here."
Emma furrowed her eyebrows, trying to disguise her annoyance as confusion. Killian found it amusing. "How do you have any leverage here? You have nothing I want."
Emma wasn't sure it was possible, but his smirk still managed to grow. "I believe you wanted to coach me? A job, you begged?" He never wanted to get back into the pool. Not even for a second. But he needed an excuse to see this lass again. And if that was the bargain she was going to drive, then he'd have to find a way around getting back into the pool, while keeping her there. Even through the haze of the alcohol, he could tell she'd be a great coach. A pain in his ass, no doubt, but definitely a good coach. It couldn't hurt to take her on. Either way, he thought, he could get used to having such a force in his life.
"How much have you had to drink this week?" Killian began to count, taking several moments. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You're not exactly coachable material." Killian's eyes darkened as he realized where she was going with this. "I'm not sure I want to coach you anymore."
Emma turned from Killian, whose eyes were glued to her. He wasn't sure why, but he wasn't ready to let her go yet. The sounds of her boots crunching the gravel as she walked away met his ears. He let her get all the way to the car before he was ready to cave. "Are you saying that you don't think you could handle it?" He called to her.
She stopped, her golden hair flowing in the wind. "Please. You're the one who couldn't handle it."
He tried to keep his pride from showing. He rolled his eyes at her and made his way over to the car. She tightened her grip on her car door, checking the lock on Henry's seat one more time. She may want to coach Killian Jones, but she didn't trust him yet. Especially with her son.
He got close, too close, and whispered, "Well, we'll just have to see." He took a small step back and his eyes landed on Henry. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled, waving at the boy. Emma held her keys a little closer to her. To her surprise, Henry giggled shyly and hid his face from Killian before waving back at him.
Killian stepped away far enough that Emma felt safe to open her door. She didn't think Killian was a bad guy, but he was, at the very least, an intoxicated one. Maybe he wasn't complete drunk, but he was probably on his way there. And Emma did not trust drunk men.
She turned on her car and began to leave, berating herself for coming here, for thinking she could take this job, that Killian wouldn't have already replaced his brother, when Killian shouted at her. "Monday morning, five o'clock. Don't be late, Swan."
Emma paused, smothering a small smile. She refused to give him the satisfaction of winning this one, so she rolled her eyes in response. "We'll see, Jones. I might have a better offer by that point."
She turned away from him and pulled out of the driveway. Once she was out of sight, she frowned, realizing everything that was wrong. She had rules. After such a short time with him, she'd already forgotten about them. How long would she last with him before forgetting them entirely? How long until the rules didn't matter at all?
Maybe she shouldn't take the job.
No, she scolded herself. "You need this job," she told herself. "There aren't going to be any better offers, not this close to the Olympics. You can keep your rules intact for the next six months. Don't let him get to you already." She couldn't afford to turn this job down, not when she was unsure of how much longer her money would last her.
With a deep sigh, she pulled her car onto the shoulder of the road. She picked up her purse and scavenged through it, pulling out her cell phone. She went into her calendar and set up a new event: "First day with Killan. Five AM, Don't be late."
