Chapter 38
Lars
“ W hen will you make an announcement?” my father asks.
The conversation with my parents goes better than I expect when I tell them I am in love with Dylon. My mother cries about grandchildren but is more concerned about what will happen with our contracts and if the sport we love will separate us. My father says he expects me to bring Dylon to Sweden for a formal introduction as my boyfriend.
“Pappa, I do not know. We have told our teammates and the Enforcers organization but are not planning an official statement.”
“You should not have to. It is no one’s business but your own.” On the screen, my mamma crosses her arms and scowls. Swedes believe in keeping our private business to ourselves.
“I will let you know if you should expect calls from the press. They might call anyway, and I do not expect you to lie.” In some ways, it would be easier if they did make a positive declaration about our relationship that we could quietly confirm.
“I will tell them to go look in someone else’s bedroom window.” Mamma huffs.
I smile and wonder if she thinks it’s an American saying. Once we hang up, I find Dylon scrolling on his phone on the couch with a furrowed brow.
“Is everything okay?” I sit so our legs touch and lean into his shoulder.
He turns his phone so I cannot see the screen, and my stomach flips over. But I trust it’s not something I need to know.
“No. Sorry.” He sighs. “It’s my family, and I don’t want you to read their hate.” He rests his head on my shoulder.
“Hate toward you or me?” I ask, picking up one of his legs and placing it over mine.
“Both. They suck as people. I’m sure my mom has said horrible things, and they all agree that I’m the problem and owe her an apology for trashing her in public. Meanwhile, I told the truth, and they all know it. My father is threatening to sue me for slander. I’ve stopped the monthly direct deposit financially supporting them, and they want every last dime they can get.”
“I am sorry. You deserve better.” I rub his thigh. I’ve said it before, but now he believes me.
“I do,” he agrees.
I gather him in my arms. “You are an extraordinary man, Dylon Felix.” I’m struck by how different our families are. Mine is stoic and reserved with affection, but I know they love me and have my best interest at heart. Dylon’s family says they love him but act for their own interests against his needs.
“We have each other.”
A couple of days later, Dylon blocks his family on his phone and all social media. It’s terrible timing since we have to play in Detroit again because they are in our conference. Finn and the PR team meet with him to plan a strategy to keep him out of the media. Grayson will take him directly to the training room following the game so no one will have access to him. Mr. Dimon hires extra security to ensure his family does not accost him at the stadium.
The game is a disaster.
The hometown crowd boos Dylon and me. We are all booed, but the fans are extra loud in their disapproval of us. It only makes us work harder .
I’m careful to keep my emotions in check when they target Dylon. He’s slashed, slammed, tripped, and punched. We take advantage of each power play and score. We’re up by five in the third period, and Coach loses his mind after another hit on Dylon. He grabs Ace and me by the helmets. “You,” he barks at Ace, “tell the refs I’m filing a formal complaint with the league if they don’t protect my player. And you,” he says, turning to me, “take them out.”
I have to play smart to get revenge and not provoke Mr. Dimon. I’ve kept track of everyone who hit Dylon tonight, and one by one, I target them. I only end up in the sin bin once, and Coach nods his approval.
The fans have lost their spark by the time the buzzer ends the game seven to one in our favor.
Of course, the media in the locker room hound me when they don’t get to speak to Dylon.
“Do you think the team targeted Lucky tonight?”
“How do you feel about the number of hits Lucky took?”
“What is Lucky being treated for?”
They all use his nickname as if they know him. I play innocent. “Did he receive more hits than usual? I will have to watch the tape. We were locked into scoring goals, not on how many hits we took.”
My answers do not satisfy their other questions, but the media coordinator asks them to leave when their time is up.
Dylon returns from the training room and walks straight into my arms. “I’m gonna shower quick. Wait for me?”
“Always.”
Security keeps Dylon’s cousin and uncle behind a protected line when we walk out. They hurl insults at us, which reporters record. Dylon climbs the steps first, and I ask the local sports newscaster to send the tape to our PR department.
“What was that?” he asks as I sit next to him.
“The Enforcers will get a copy of that tape, and they can forward it to your lawyer if you hire one. They made violent threats against you.” I will do whatever it takes to protect my man .
Dylon opens his phone to his favorite social media apps, and his notifications are in the thousands. He’s been tagged in videos and comments about the slurs his family said in public and to local Detroit news outlets.
“Holy fuck,” Benz yells. “Lucky, they can’t say that about you, can they?”
The bus gets quiet except for phones playing the videos at low volume.
His face is full of pain, and I put my arm around him, offering support and comfort. “It does not matter what strangers say.”
“Not to me or you. We can handle it. But what about at-risk kids like we met at The Q Solutions? They’re going to see this. I can’t sit back and say nothing. I’ll be letting down scared kids who have unsupportive parents like mine. Honestly, my parents probably don’t give a fuck about my sexuality. They’re using it as a weapon to get more money from me. As if trying to blackmail me with bad press will make me give in.”
I know what we have to do. “We are going to fight back.”
“Not if it hurts you.”
“Better me than the kids who look up to us. You are right. This has become bigger than our relationship, and they are changing the rules. So we will change them too.” Peace settles over me. A surety of doing the right thing for us and to combat hate. Hate covered and excused by moral and religious values. The hypocrisy astounds me.
“I don’t want you to regret anything or resent me,” Dylon murmurs.
“You told me you are with me, for better or worse. I hope you mean it because I do and it might get bad. Let’s call Finn.”
Finn loves our idea, and we put a plan in motion.