Rise Of Michael Jordan

Chapter 14

Hwarthorne slowly rose to his feet, his shadow stretching long across the room. His eyes were fixed on me, sharp and unflinching.

“I’ve heard many things about you, Kael,” he said, his was tone calm. “Your braveness, your unshaken attitude, your refusal to bow before fear. Perhaps tonight… I’ll see for myself if all of that is true.”

I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening. His words brushed past me, but the fury inside was already lit, burning hotter with every breath.

“Why?” My voice cracked the air, low but cutting. “Why did you do it, Hwarthorne? Tell me why.”

I stepped forward, my eyes boring into his. “My son was just nine. Nine, damn it!” My chest heaved, anger and grief tangled in every word. “Why did you have to let Liam witness such pain? Why?”

Memories crashed through me—the hospital lights, the doctors’ rushed footsteps, the way my boy’s small hands trembled as he fought to hold on. My throat tightened, but I forced the words out, each one like glass shredding through my chest.

“He was operated on for twelve hours. Twelve long, brutal hours.” My voice shook now, but I didn’t care. “My son had to spend twelve hours fighting for his life… and you did that to him.”

I could see Liam’s pale face again, the machines keeping him alive, and I snapped my gaze back at Hwarthorne, my teeth gritted. “Does my son deserve that? Tell me, does he?”

My breath came ragged, and I pressed a hand to my chest as though it could cage the storm breaking inside me.

“For six years…” I paused, swallowing hard. “…I was gone. Six years I couldn’t be the father he needed. Six years of silence, distance, mistakes I can never take back.” My voice fell, raw with regret. “But I came back to him. I returned to act like a father—to give him what I couldn’t before.”

I raised my head, eyes locked on Hwarthorne like steel. “But did you have to do this to him? Did you have to rip apart the little boy who finally got his father back?”

The words spilled from me, heavy, unrelenting, each one aimed straight at him.

Hwarthorne let out a dry, mocking scoff, his lips twisting into something between a smirk and a snarl.

“You really piss me off, Kael,” he spat, his tone dripping venom. “That day at the Black Spire—you came into my space, looked me in the eye, and acted like you owned the damn place. Rude. Arrogant. As if you were above me.”

I narrowed my eyes, every muscle in my body tense, my blood boiling with restrained rage.

He jabbed a finger at me, his voice rising. “And what made it worse—what I’ll never forgive—was how Milton praised you in front of me. Dr. Milton, of all people, telling me that your skills outshone mine. That you were the one worth admiring.” His jaw tightened, eyes glinting with madness. “I hated it. And now… I want you to prove yourself to me.”

My breath came sharp, my patience long gone.

“That’s your reason?” I barked, my voice thundering across the room. “That’s your excuse for hurting Liam? For nearly breaking a child’s life because your pride was bruised?” I stepped closer, every word fueled by rage. “You don’t deserve to stay alive, Hwarthorne.”

The smirk flickered into something darker. In a flash, he yanked a gun from his side. My instincts screamed.

The crack of the gunshot split the air. I ducked as the bullet tore past me and shattered a glass cabinet behind. Shards exploded across the floor, the sound was deafening in my ears.

Another shot rang out—then another. I darted behind a pillar, keeping low, waiting, listening to the rhythm of his madness. Bullets slammed into walls, tables, chairs, sending splinters flying. My pulse beat steady—I had to wait him out.

Click.

Silence followed. The sound of an empty chamber.

That was my moment.

I surged out from behind the pillar like a storm unleashed. Hwarthorne barely had time to register me before my fist connected with his jaw. The impact cracked through my knuckles, and he staggered back, blood flying from his mouth.

He tried to swing the gun at me, but I grabbed his wrist, twisting it with brutal force until the weapon clattered to the ground. My other fist drove into his gut, then an uppercut snapped his head back violently.

The club erupted into chaos—people screaming, rushing for the exit, tables overturning in the stampede. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

I pummeled him again and again, each punch heavier than the last, fueled by every image of Liam’s suffering burned into my memory. Hwarthorne’s face became a canvas of blood and bruises, his body collapsing under the weight of my fury. Still, I drove my fists into him—nose broken, lips split, skin torn. Until finally, he slumped unconscious at my feet, his face scattered and unrecognizable.

My chest heaved as I stood over him, knuckles dripping red, the rage inside me still burning.

“Freeze!” a voice roared from behind.

I turned sharply, blinking sweat and blood from my eyes. A group of armed officers had poured into the room, guns trained on me.

“Hands up!” another barked.

I lifted my hands slowly, breathing hard, my gaze still locked on the broken shell of Hwarthorne at my feet.

Two of them advanced, fast and sharp. Cold steel snapped around my wrists as the handcuffs bit into my skin.

For the first time that night, I exhaled, but not in relief—only in bitter defiance.

I watched as they lifted Hwarthorne’s broken body from the club floor. He was still breathing—barely—but by the time they loaded him into the ambulance, I could already read it in their faces: he wasn’t going to last.

They shoved me into the back of a police vehicle. They bound my wrists tight behind my back. The siren wailed as we drove, but my mind was silent. Silent, except for Liam’s face burning inside me.

When we reached the station, they didn’t even lead me to an interrogation room. They locked me at the counter, like some common criminal they were proud to display. The fluorescent lights above hummed, throwing pale shadows across the tiled floor.

One officer spat his words at me, voice sharp with disgust.

“How the hell were you causing a rift like that in a public club? You think this city belongs to you?”

Another leaned against the counter, sneering as he folded his arms.

“Don’t you recognize him? That’s Kael. The same Kael who killed his own comrade during that secret mission years back. The same man who rotted in prison for six years.”

A third officer chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.

“And now he’s here again—trying to stir more chaos. Doesn’t learn, does he?”

Their words cut deep, but I didn’t flinch. Let them talk. They only saw pieces of my story, never the whole.

Just then, the sound of heels clicking against the station floor broke through the noise. The rhythm was sharp, steady, commanding—drawing every eye toward the entrance.

She appeared under the dim light, and even the smoke-stained ceiling couldn’t dull her presence. She was beautiful, striking in a way that made silence fall like a weight in the room. Her hair framed her face perfectly, her eyes sharp as blades. Every man in the station turned to look.

Jessica.

She didn’t waste time. In less than a breath, she crossed the floor and slid onto the edge of the desk, her presence like a storm pressing down on everyone.

One officer—bold, or maybe just foolish—grinned at her, leaning forward on the counter.

“Well, well,” he said slyly, his voice dripping false charm. “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing at the station at such an ungodly hour? Surely you’re not in any trouble…”

Jessica’s gaze cut to him, ice cold. She reached into her coat slowly, and without a word, pulled out an ID card. She held it up just enough for the light to catch the symbol etched on it.

Black Spire.

The change in the room was instant. The officer’s smirk drained from his face as though slapped away. He froze, his eyes widening with recognition, his hands suddenly unsure of where to rest. He pushed himself back, standing straight, his body rigid with unease.

Jessica rose from the desk, her heels striking the floor again as she stepped closer. The officer’s bravado shattered—he bowed his head slightly, his voice dropping to something almost. respectful.

“M-Miss Jessica,” he stammered, then forced himself into calm. “Forgive me… I didn’t realize. What exactly brings you here at this hour? I—I doubt a woman like you has any trouble. Not here.”

His words hung in the air, the tension so sharp you could feel it cut through the room. All eyes flicked between Jessica and me, waiting to see what storm she had brought into their midst.

Jessica’s eyes locked on mine for a long, unflinching second. Then, without hesitation, she turned to the officers.

“I was sent here to release that man,” she said coolly, pointing straight at me.

The room stiffened. One of the officers, the same one who had been running his mouth earlier, immediately stepped forward, his face flushed with anger and uncertainty.

“Miss Jessica—this man caused destruction at a public club,” he blurted out. “He nearly killed Hwarthorne in front of dozens of witnesses. He’s a danger, a repeat convict—he shouldn’t just walk free because—”

Jessica cut him off, her head tilting slightly as her eyes dropped to his uniform. Her gaze lingered on the badge pinned neatly above his chest.

“Officer Ramirez,” she said slowly, her voice cutting like glass. “Do you like crossing Dr. Milton Carroway?”

The name hit like a gunshot. The station went dead silent. You could feel the shift, the fear that settled into their bones. Milton’s shadow stretched across this city heavier than law, heavier than government itself. His influence was unending, his power whispered to rival even the President’s.

Ramirez’s throat bobbed. His face paled instantly, sweat breaking across his brow.

“I—I’ll have him released right now.” His voice cracked, all authority gone. He fumbled with the keys, hands shaking, and rushed to the holding door. The lock clicked, and the iron barrier swung open.

I stepped out, my wrists raw from the cuffs, my gaze never leaving Jessica.

She turned to me, her face softer now, guilt flickering in her eyes. “I’m sorry I arrived late.”

I studied her carefully, my chest still heavy from everything. “What are you doing here, Jessica?”

“Follow me,” she said simply, her tone allowing no argument.

And so I did. My steps fell behind hers, the echo of her heels leading me out of the suffocating station.

Just as we neared the exit, Ramirez called after her, voice forced into something polite, almost begging.

“Miss Jessica! Please—don’t forget to mention me to Dr. Milton. Just… just put in a good word.”

Jessica didn’t even glance back. She waved her hand dismissively, a single flick that told him he was nothing but dust beneath her heel.

Outside, the cold night wrapped around us again. I exhaled, the city air sharp in my lungs.

“Tell me,” I said, my voice low. “Was it truly Milton who sent you? Even after I beat his right hand into a pulp?”

Jessica stopped, her body stiffening before she turned her face toward me, her eyes blazing.

“You’re a fool, Kael.”

I blinked, my jaw clenching at her tone. “Careful how you—”

“I’ll say it again,” she cut me sharply, stepping closer, her voice rising like fire. “You are a fool, Kael.”

The words cut deeper than any blade. She shook her head, disappointment thick in her eyes.

“Did you really think beating Hwarthorne solved anything?” she hissed. “That breaking his face will make Milton account for his sins? Will it make him apologize for the lives he’s destroyed? You’re so blinded by your rage you don’t even see where the real monster is standing.”

Her words hit me like a fist to the gut. I stood frozen, caught off guard, as she went on.

“The truth is,” she whispered, her voice lowering, trembling with venom, “you and I are not so different. You carry the same rage I do against Milton.”

My brows furrowed, my chest tightening. “What are you talking about, Jessica?”

Her eyes hardened, her voice breaking through the night like a confession carved in stone.

“Dr. Milton Carroway is a monster in human skin. He was the one who killed my parents, Kael. I’ve stayed beside him all these years, swallowing my hate, biding my time—waiting for the moment I can tear him down.”

The words shook the air between us. My blood ran cold.

She stepped closer, her gaze locked on mine, her tone dead serious.

“So if you suddenly decide to go up against Milton… tell me, Kael—are you enough to take him down?”