Chapter 21 #2
The recording continues, “my” voice growing lower, more menacing.
“No one in our family ever liked you. You treat my sister like shit, and it’s past time for this thing between you to be over.
You’re poison. We all know it. Bea will realize it, too.
In time. So, give her time, motherfucker.
Stay the hell away from her. She’s with someone who loves her now, and she’s never coming back to you.
That’s not happening. No matter what. And if you try to come after her, you’ll regret it.
You are never getting her back. Never. I’d rather Bea stop being with anyone, period, than go back to a man like you. ”
The clip ends.
Silence fills the room, thick and suffocating.
I have to fight to pull in enough breath to wheeze, “That wasn’t me, guys.
I swear. I know it sounded like me, but it wasn’t.
I swear on my life. Please, you have to believe me.
That was…” I trail off, shaking my head as sweat breaks out on my upper lip.
“That was crazy. Maybe the craziest thing that’s ever happened to me.
Because I did not say that.” I stand up straighter as my shell-shocked brain connects the dots.
“That was something Kai made. Or somebody made. With AI or something. It has to be.”
“This is exactly what I thought,” Keely pipes up, looking relieved.
“The second I heard the recording, I told Fisk this had to be a deepfake. You aren’t the kind of person who would threaten a family member, not even if you didn’t mean it.
Even if you were just trying to scare this guy away. You wouldn’t do that.”
“I didn’t think so, either,” Merwood says, but he doesn’t look nearly as happy about it as Keely.
“But it doesn’t matter one way or the other, Baylor,” Fisk says, his voice devoid of sympathy. “The league has a zero-tolerance policy regarding domestic violence. Especially in the current climate.”
“But I didn’t do anything.” A jagged laugh bursts from my chest. “I did not kidnap my sister. I’m not holding her against her will, and I would never hurt her. Like I said, you can just call her! Right now. Bea will clear this all up in two seconds.”
“The problem is that Morrison is saying Beatrice is scared to come forward,” Keely says softly.
“That you have her phone. That you’re controlling her social media and have intimidated her into going along with whatever you say.
He’s spinning a narrative that you’re the abuser, Baylor.
I don’t believe it for a minute, but with your history…
And what happened with that man on Bourbon Street… ”
She trails off, but she doesn’t need to finish.
I get it.
My history. The fights. Letting myself be rage baited on the ice last year. The incident with the guy who hit his wife, the one Kai knows about because Beatrice probably told him all about it…
That fucking snake.
Kai isn’t just attacking me; he’s weaponizing my reputation to get to Beatrice. I want to wrap my hands around his scrawny neck and…
Well, it’s going to take more self-control than I’d like to keep from giving him the reaction he’s obviously looking for.
“Okay, well, I’ll get an expert, then,” I say. “Someone who can analyze the file and prove it’s fake. I don’t know where to find—”
“We already have someone on it,” Keely says. “But it’s going to take time.”
“And the optics are bad right now,” the GM cuts in. “They’re damned catastrophic. The league called ten minutes ago, demanding we take action.”
“Whether we like it or not,” Merwood says, “we have no choice but to suspend you, pending a full investigation. You have to leave immediately. You will not travel on the team charter, and you are to have no contact with team personnel aside from Liam, who’s already packed your suitcase and will put you in a car to the airport. ”
To the airport…
Holy shit.
It’s all…gone. All of it. Just like that.
At least for the foreseeable future.
And if I can’t find a way to prove that recording is a fake…
As I follow Liam out of the complex, I try to tell myself that Beatrice will talk to whoever she needs to talk to—the police, the press—and straighten this out. But I know how bad people are at agreeing on objective facts and reality these days.
The press, her fans, my fans…they might simply decide not to believe her. To believe Kai, instead. Because his story is juicier. Or because he’s older. Or because he’s a man.
I’m a man, too, but I’m a man who was caught using his fists to solve his problems. While, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, Kai is as pure as the driven snow.
A DUI isn’t great, but it’s not kidnapping or forced imprisonment.
It’s not almost killing his ex-girlfriend, like what he did with that poor girl in Nebraska.
I realize for the first time that he’s accused me of the crime he actually committed.
Talk about a textbook case of projection…
It’s almost funny, in a dark, twisted way.
But nothing is truly funny right now. Nothing. Ten minutes ago, I was the master of my destiny. I was the future of the franchise, with a chance at MVP honors. Now, I’m a toxic-waste-level liability.
I’ve been outplayed, there’s no doubt about that, but I’m not down for the count. I’m not about to go down like this, not without a fight.
But not with my fists this time…
As soon as I’m alone in the cab on the way to the airport, I text Charlotte and Beatrice in a group text—I know what’s happening, and I’m so fucking sorry. I’m on my way home. My plane lands at eleven. I’ll be at Charlotte’s as soon as I can, and we’ll tackle this together.
Charlotte texts back almost immediately—Thank God! I would normally tell you to stay and play hockey, but we need you here. I can’t believe how much that message he faked sounds like you.
Exhaling a deeply relieved breath, I type—I know. I’m just glad you know I didn’t say any of that. I would never.
Of course not! I knew it was fake from the jump—Charlotte replies, her faith in me enough to bring grateful tears to my eyes. But it sounds so real, Baylor. It’s just… It’s insane, honestly.
So insane—Beatrice agrees—I’m so sorry, Bay.
I would say I can’t believe Kai’s doing this, but I can.
But I’m not going to let him get away with it.
Laurel and I are already brainstorming a plan to clear both our names, and Charlotte’s going to call in a favor with her media contacts when we’re ready to hit back.
Charlotte seconds—And we’ll hit back hard. We just need to be careful. Strategic. Since not everyone knows what we know about Kai, and we have no way to prove what we know. It will be good to have you here to talk through the variables. Was the Coach upset that you asked to come home early?
Deciding the “suspended” part of the story can wait—I don’t want to upset them more than they are already—I shoot back—No worries about that, but I have to go. Almost to the airport. I’ll let you know when I board. Hang tight. I’ll be there with backup ASAP.
As they wish me a safe flight, I pull up the contact info for the person who tipped us off to the truth about Kai in the first place.
Blue answers on the second ring. “Where are you? I’m assuming you’ve seen it?”
“The article you mean?” I ask tightly. “Yeah. And I heard the recording Kai’s saying I left on his phone.
Merwood played it for me before he told me I was suspended until they could prove it was fake and put me in a cab to the airport.
I hope I don’t need to tell you that I didn’t say those things, but I didn’t. ”
“Of course not. The recording sounds nothing like you,” Blue says calmly.
I frown. “It doesn’t? Dude, I thought it was me for a split second, and I know for a fact I haven’t spoken to Kai in years.”
“No. The rhythm was wrong. They’ll prove it’s fake. Eventually. But in the meantime, damage is being done, and not just to your career or reputation. There are already rumors circulating online that Beatrice is unwell. Mentally.”
I exhale with a wince. “Fuck. Fuck! My poor sister, Blue. All I want to do is protect her from this monster, but I honestly… I don’t know how. I don’t know how to fight something like this. All the lies and manipulation and—”
“Just go home,” Blue cuts in firmly. “Go home, make sure Charlotte and Beatrice know they’re not alone, and the paparazzi know they won’t be allowed to bully them. There are already vans outside Charlotte’s house. I saw it on the NOLA news social page.”
I curse. Colorfully enough to draw a raised eyebrow in the mirror from the driver.
“Sorry,” I mutter, sinking lower in my seat.
I have to hold it together. For all I know, this guy could be selling gossip to TMZ.
But fuck…
My sweet, classy, private Charlotte. Her quiet life. Her garden. Her peace. The reputation I was supposed to be helping improve after the public dissing from her ex. All of it is about to be trampled by a media circus because she decided to date me for real.
“What about what we know?” I ask, dropping my voice to a whisper. “About Nebraska and what Kai did when he was Henry James Killian? Is there any way I can arrange to ‘find out’ about that without the police knowing I went digging down an illegal rabbit hole on the dark web?”
“No. The information isn’t publicly available,” Blue says.
“Not even on any gossip or blind item sites. Even if it were, it’s a sealed juvenile record.
The press can’t legally print it without verification, and the courts won’t unseal it.
It will look like a smear campaign. It muddies the water, but it doesn’t clear your name.
It just adds to the noise. And the more noise there is leading up to a resolution, the more likely no one will believe the truth when it comes out. You have to be careful. Thoughtful.”
I drag a hand down my face, still sticky from my workout and my stress response in that fucking office. “I agree, but I can’t do nothing. I have to hit back. At least enough to let him and everyone else know I reject his account entirely and intend to prove he’s lying.”
“I have an idea,” he says. “Let me work on something while you get home and make sure everything is okay there. I have the day free aside from travel this afternoon. Hopefully, I’ll have good news for you by this evening.”
“Thank you,” I say, guilt prickling at the back of my neck. “But you don’t have to do this, you know. This isn’t your fight.”
“The Voodoo needs you,” Blue says. “And you’re my friend. So is Beatrice. I’m not the kind of person who lets friends fight alone.”
Touched, I nod. “Thanks. I appreciate this, Blue. Really.”
“I’ll text as soon as I have news,” he says. “Take care of her. And yourself.”
We end the call, and I lean my head back against the headrest, staring up at the gray morning sky. I hate this. I hate every second of this fucking…restraint. I hate being forced to be the calmer, better person while Kai’s lies spread.
But this is the ultimate test for the “new man” I was just thinking I was proud to be. If I can make it through an injustice like this, one that attacks my family, my career, my reputation, and everything I hold dear, then…
Well, then, I might be ready to go to a Zen retreat with Blue next summer. Maybe we can bring Charlotte and Beatrice, make a “get out of NOLA and find inner peace” week of it in Tibet or something.
The hour until my flight takes off passes like an hour in purgatory, and the plane flight is the longest direct flight in memory. By the time the car service turns into Charlotte’s neighborhood, I’m practically crawling out of my skin with the need to be with them.
Now.
Then, the car takes the right into Charlotte’s cul-de-sac, where two news vans and several unfamiliar cars are parked, and reporters mill about at the end of the driveway, and I suddenly wish the trip had taken longer.
Am I ready to pass through that flock of vultures without losing my shit and playing right into Kai’s hands?
Guess we’re about to find out.