Maid for Hire

Chapter 12: Scrambled Problems

Phillip was still under me, the voice that came out from his mouth nearly made me deaf with its high decibels that I didn’t expect he possessed. Blood trailed down his nose and the places where I’d put my hand turned purple.

“You-you!” he spat blood. “Bitch!”

I saw his hand curled into a fist and inhaled air sharply, waiting for the right moment to duck. But right before his fist slammed onto me, I felt two strong hands caught me by the arms, pulling me away.

Alec.

This was surprising to me. One, because I’d never thought that Alec would be strong enough to pull me up, and two, because he looked like he was in the verge of combustion.

“Hitting girls is not cool,” he hissed.

Phillip grunted, and even though there were bruises on his cheeks, there was no denying that he looked pleased to see that he managed to piss Alec off. “It’s fair game if she hits me first, man.”

I could literally hear something snapped inside Alec’s head. His lips curled up into a tight-lipped smile, and a moment later, I saw him crashing his fist onto Phillip’s nose.

I had to wince when I heard the noise. It sounded absolutely agonizingly painful.

This time, Phillip could no longer talk or sneer, because he was unconscious. I thought that if he were a cartoon character, there would be smoke wafting off his freshly slammed head.

As for Alec, I saw him in new light.

He was panting; his chest rose and fell slowly as he opened his fist. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, his thick eyebrows pulled taut together. I was staring at him like it was the first time I saw him, and by God, maybe it was because of the alcohol, but that he actually looked regal.

That is, until he started squealing like a little girl.

“Ow!!! Ow, ow, ow, that fucking hurts!!” he did a little bounce as he jerked his hand around. “Shit, Andrea, punching people hurt a fucking lot, why the hell do you keep doing that shit?”

All the previous admiration that I’d temporarily developed vanished, and I found myself shaking my head at the sight of him. My heart swelled with something else, though, something warm. Walking over Phillip’s unconscious body, I approached him and took Alec’s slightly bruised hand and cupped it.

“It kinda hurts,” I admitted. “But he needs to shut up.”

Alec grinned. “Agreed.”

“How’s your hand?”

He squeezed mine. “Better.”

“I’m sorry to disturb your.. ah, moment, but what should we do about him?” Mrs. Worthington’s voice suddenly boomed from behind me.

She didn’t look half as satisfied as we were, with her hands crossed over her chest. Even the botox couldn’t hide the scowl on her mouth. Surprised, I turned my gaze towards the unconscious burly guy. I snickered a bit when I noticed that his mouth was half opened and his nose a little crooked now, but I knew that I wouldn’t snicker anymore when he woke up.

Which I hoped wouldn’t happen in anytime soon.

“Is it wrong if I just want to ship him off to Alabama?” Alec’s eyebrow was wriggling. “I mean, I get the money, and we can always tell Mom that he just couldn’t handle our lifestyle.”

“That’s a great idea,” I said earnestly, before then I remembered that there was also Mrs. Worthington with us, and if anything, she wasn’t very fond of me getting close to Alec.

To my surprise, though, Mrs. Worthington burst out in a fit of giggles. Of course, nothing as rough as mine, and if you stand more than five feet away, you wouldn’t be able to hear anything more than mere hissing sounds. But she was giggling, and when she finally looked up, she looked happier than I had ever seen her.

“That was a great job well done, guys,” she clapped a few times. “I would have done it first if she didn’t climb that table and punched him right in the face.”

It was true, I didn’t realize it before, but now when I looked back at the table, I felt an immense need to facepalm myself in shame. I’d stepped right on the duck while trying to beat Phillip up, and not only that, I crashed a few plates and forks.

Plates and forks that I wouldn’t be able to pay back.

“Sorry, Mrs. Worthington,” my voice couldn’t go beyond whisper. “I guess I can replace the-“

“You silly, you don’t need to replace anything,” Mrs. Worthington cut me off.