Chapter 41 #2
“Oh, gee, let me guess,” I said, letting the sarcasm drip. “Jack Arlen?”
The silence on the other end was telling. Travis cleared his throat again. “After what happened with Temo…” He huffed out a heavy breath. “Anyway, he admitted it was fake.”
There was no vindication in that confirmation. I’d known it was fake, and I wasn’t at all surprised Arlen was behind it. His confession—hell, he was probably proud of it, because he was that kind of jackass.
“Did he make it?” I croaked. “Or did someone send it to him?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I asked anyway.
“He wouldn’t say. My gut tells me he made it, though.”
I rolled my eyes, then rubbed them with my free hand.
Travis went on, “He said he knew the two of you were together. Said he figured it out on the dads’ trip. Something about you two dipping out somewhere together.” That last part had an edge of accusation to it. An undercurrent of, “Did you really do something that stupid, you idiot?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Explains why he was suddenly so interested in my personal life after that. Fuck.”
There was a long sigh on the other end. “Yeah. Well. He had a hunch, and he’s been trying to confirm it, but then he got the video, and…
” Travis swore under his breath. “I don’t know.
The way he was talking about it—like the smug fucking asshole he is—he made it.
I won’t go on record saying that, but it’s what I think. ”
I grunted. I still couldn’t believe I’d let Arlen catch our scent.
I’d been so sure no one saw us. So utterly confident we’d slipped under everyone’s radars.
But Arlen had been lurking in the lobby when I’d come up from the garage.
And he’d suddenly been weirdly interested in each of us—and my relationship status—after that.
All because I couldn’t wait a couple of days to be alone with Garrett. Christ, I was so stupid. I couldn’t believe I—
“Saints?” Travis asked. “You still there?”
“I’m here. Just… processing everything.” Not really a lie.
He exhaled. “I’m sorry. I really am. We always knew he could be a bit much, but we never thought he’d pull something like this.”
I pushed a hand through my still damp hair and exhaled hard, my throat tight and my voice brittle as I said, “But… why? What even was the point?” My shoulders sagged. “I don’t get it.”
Travis sighed. “I don’t either. I honestly don’t. I mean, he’s… there’s…”
Something cold coiled in the pit of my stomach. “What?”
There was some movement on the other end. A chair creaking, I thought, and Travis suddenly sounded very uncomfortable. “I mean, we wouldn’t have let him around the team if we thought he’d get out of pocket. We always knew he had issues with gay players, but we thought it—”
“Wait, what?” I roared. My voice echoed off the high ceilings as I demanded, “He’s a homophobe?” Fucking hell. I probably should’ve known, given his bullshit about Pride Nights, but I’d just dismissed him as being an asshole. “Is he racist, too? Since he’s such a dick about theme nights?”
Travis’s silence wasn’t a no.
“Jesus Christ. Dude.”
“Well… I…” Travis stammered. “Saints, you know there are people in the hockey world who don’t—”
“But you let him in the locker room with us,” I snarled. “You let him interview us, about personal things, knowing he had a problem the gay players? And that he’s apparently also a racist? What the actual fuck, Travis?”
He was silent again, this time for a painfully long moment. “We didn’t… I mean, professionalism is—”
“Professionalism, hell.” I threw up my hand.
“He’s never been professional. Ever. And even if he was, do you understand that this isn’t just a difference of opinion?
People like him are a danger to people like me, Travis.
And people like Temo. Actual objective danger.
Why would you let him get close to us like that? ”
“He’s… He’s not dangerous, though.”
“Oh, he’s not?” I laughed bitterly. “Is that why there’s an AI video of me telling the world about my boyfriend all over the fucking internet?
Is that why social media is probably lit the hell up right now with people who think I shouldn’t be a role model for kids?
Or that I’m disgusting? Or… whatever?” I shook my head.
“Homophobia is dangerous, Travis. It’s not something you just casually let exist—especially around queer people.
Just like you can’t let a fucking racist around people of color. Especially without telling any of us!”
I made a disgusted sound as I ended the call. I was in no mood to hear his excuses. On some level, I was angrier at him than I was at Jack Arlen himself.
Jack was a dick—I’d always known that—but an actual homophobe?
Not just someone who liked to stir the pot for clicks or got butthurt over theme nights?
And our PR and media relations people knew that, and they still let him into the locker room?
Jesus H. Christ, what if one of the younger guys had wound up in his crosshairs?
What if he’d outed one of them? What if—
God, what if any number of awful situations had happened because my club had knowingly given locker room access to a known fucking homophobe?
Rage surged up in me, and I roared with fury as I hurled the phone across my kitchen. It hit the refrigerator, then clattered to the floor.
I was livid. I was crushed. I was mortified. Too many emotions to count slammed around in my head like players brawling on the ice. My personal life was once again in the headlines, this time without my consent. My team’s front office had let me down in the worst way. And my boyfriend…
I squeezed my stinging eyes shut.
My boyfriend was humiliated. I swore I could feel him slipping through my fingers, too; I believed to my core that he felt something for me, but he was going to do whatever it took to smooth things over with Chris.
It didn’t help that he wasn’t used to having his personal life splashed all over the news, never mind in a scandalous way like this.
He probably had no idea how to handle it all.
Hell, I was used to being a public figure and I couldn’t begin to handle it.
So even if he and Chris worked things out, who was to say Garrett would still want everything that came with hitching his wagon to me?
I wanted to believe this was bigger in my head than it was in reality, but Garrett wasn’t here.
His son was furious. There was nothing in the world Garrett wanted more than relationships with his kids, and I didn’t believe for a second that he’d pick me over peace with Chris. I didn’t want him to pick me over that.
But I did want him.
It was just hard to imagine that, when this all shook out in the end, I would be anything but alone.
Again.