Page 201 of The Blame Game
No such luck, apparently.
“So I decided it was time to go straight to the source.” Joe gave them a mean little smile. “Skip the middleman.”
“Efficient, I suppose,” Dom acknowledged. “But God, you are a vile human being. Preying on people who are just trying to live their lives.”
“You’re a public figure. You signed up for this shit.”
“No, I signed up to play hockey,” Dom said, his tone low but furious. “Not to have my privacy invaded. Not to have fans talking about my personal life. They believe we owe them the details. And we can’t win. If we try to stay private, people get angry. If we tell a small amount, they demand to know more. They gossip and speculate and make up stories about real people’s lives like we don’t have any feelings. And if we make a mistake—even the tiniest fucking mistake—we’re ridiculed.”
“Maybe you should be,” Joe sneered. “Making millions for what? Playing a fucking game.”
“For putting our bodies on the line for people’s goddamn entertainment,” Dom snarled. “I just wanted to do what I love. I didn’t ask for the public attention. I didn’t ask to be famous. I knew it went along with it but it’s bullshit if you ask me.”
“Oh, boo-hoo. Such a terrible life,” Joe spat. “Sitting on all those millions while you live in a fucking high-rise overlooking Lake Ontario.”
Shea bit his tongue because there were so many things he wanted to say but this was Dom’s fight. His decision.
“We earned that money and those millions have to last for our entire lives. Most of us are left with wrecked bodies and no education. We make one little slip and our entire life is exposed,” Dom continued, like he hadn’t even heard Joe. “The public builds us up to be gods so they can tear us down. They want to see us fall.”
“You deserve to fall,” Joe said, his face twisted into an ugly expression.
Dom nodded like whatever Joe had said had confirmed what he’d been thinking.
“Fine then. I choose to fall.”
For the first time, Joe’s expression slipped into one of fear and worry. “What?”
“I don’t care what you have on me,” Dom said clearly. “I don’t care who you tell. Sell it to JockGossip. Sell it to whoever will buy it from you.”
Hope rose in Shea’s chest.
“You—you’re bluffing.”
“No,” Dom said coolly, his anger gone now. “I’m a good poker player but I’m not that good. This is me laying my cards on the table. I don’t care if you’ve got a pair of twos or a royal flush in your hands. But I’m out. I’m not playing this game with you. Tell everyone I hired Shea for sex. I’m tired of letting other people use my secrets to control me. I’m done. I’m stepping back from the table.”
“You can’t do that?” Joe said but it came out as a question.
Dom smiled and it was oddly peaceful. Serene.
God, Shea loved seeing him like this.
“That’s the thing. I can. My career is nearly over. I’m in love with Shea and he loves me back. I spoke with the head office about the situation. My agent knows. We’re all prepared to deal with the fallout. I don’t like it but I’ll live with it if it means I don’t have to pay scum like you. I’m done hiding.”
A look of anger crossed Joe’s face. “I could destroy Shea’s career and his family—”
“Oh, we told them too,” Shea said calmly, despite the fact that his heart was racing. “Awkward fucking conversation with my dad, that’s for sure, but you have no leverage there. I spoke to my boss too and I’m prepared to lose my job. Jobs come and go. My feelings for Dom? Not so much.”
“Legally—”
“The police might investigate,” Dom said. “But do you think they’re going to go after me that hard? I’ll get off with a slap on the wrist.”
Joe sputtered, his face growing red, but he couldn’t seem to form any words.
“Well, shame it didn’t work out for you,” Dom said coolly as he pulled his phone out, flashing a recording app at Joe.
His eyes bulged and he made a strangled sound.
Dom continued to speak calmly. “So, you can sell the info to whoever you want, but if you do, I’ll go to the police with this.” He waggled the device.
