His Best Nightmare

Chapter Three

 I tugged on my huge suitcase, my life line for a depressing three months. 

But I was going to get through this, even if Kal thought he was going to break me as easily as he had the others. 

As if. 

Which is why I quickly handed my suitcase to the door man, who had already pulled my black truck up to the front of my building. 

I smiled at the man as he placed the luggage in the back of my car, with a quick nod he was gone, and I was sitting in my large truck. 

I already knew exactly where Kal was staying, I had a key card in my pocket to his hotel room, and it was only 2:50 AM, we were perfectly on schedule. 

After reading through most Kal's extensive and long as shit folder, I had learned a shit ton of information about the man. 

Like he couldn't be on time for his own death. 

He had missed so many fucking flights, car rides, meetings, that his own coach had gone to his manager about the problem. 

He even showed up late to some of his own soccer games. 

Yes, Kal Kingston was a world class soccer player, and was known all over the world for being one of the absolute best players to grace the fields. 

But his personality was the equivalent to dog shit, no matter the skill he had. 

And he was in major trouble. 

He was currently playing for England, a native to London, but had been on the Madrid team where his Mother was originally from, his Father from London as well. 

He grew up with only his Father, not a lot of information on why. 

One of the greats, however, his personality was shit. 

Had actually puked in a refs face after showing up to a game drunk as shit. 

Had been kicked off the Madrid team, and somehow landed on the England team, and was a huge help to them for a solid few months there, still some personal problems hitting the tabloids, but he was playing hard on the field. 

It wasn't about until six months ago, his attitude took another nose dive that was beyond baffling, even worse than his attitude had been in Madrid. 

From physical fights escalating with the opposing team to actually taking a swing at the Captain of his own team. 

I had read more than enough, along with seeing a few clips of him stumbling drunk into one of his games, I knew what I was dealing with, just not why. 

A 28 year old man is doing what he loves more than anything in the world, playing a sport he loves, making more than enough money to live happily, and seemed to be surrounded by a good group of people, yet he was acting out like a spoiled college frat boy. 

These next few months were going to be interesting. 

I'd personally been called Satan's Handler, and much more creative and hideous names, to my face. 

I knew people didn't like to be called on their bullshit, and before I could take a few personal hits. 

At this point though, who knew with an explosion from Kal Kingston where I'd end up. 

I sighed as I turned at the light, pulling up to the hotel he was staying at. 

A bleary eyes valet boy, blinked tiredly at me, before rushing to get my keys, "keep her running" I stated before slipping past the boy and storming into the hotel.