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I flash him an irritated glare. “I thought you said you needed money right away. I can help.”
“Do you think I’m stupid? You aren’t going to transfer me $500,000 from your account right now. That’s going to take some explaining and maneuvering. I can wait because there’s more to what I want from you than money.” He leers at me. “Here’s the thing, when you gamble, there are a lot of things to gamble on. Some of them are so crazy, but you do it because it could mean making a ton of money, which could totally change your life. Sometimes, while you gamble, you meet other people who get you into all kinds of things and make you offers you can’t refuse. I really couldn’t refuse this one, and that’s where you come in.”
He releases me and leans against the wall near the door. Crossing his ankles casually, he places his hands in his pockets, as if we’re having the most normal conversation in the world. Sneering, he continues, “Your boy, Austin, you really have no idea if he’s gay?”
His question rattles me but he has finally turned me loose, and I still don’t know what he’s after. “No, I don’t, Jason. I don’t make it a point to get involved with my players sexual preferences. Why do you even care?”
He tsks like he’s disappointed in my answer. “Sam, I know you’re smart, but you seem to be having trouble connecting the dots on this one. Here’s the thing, Austin is gay. Totally 100% flaming, and I know this because I was able to get some photos of him in some very sticky situations, if you know what I mean. I also happen to know if these photos got out it would likely ruin his chances to go pro. The league claims to be inclusive, but they won’t like what they see in those pictures at all, and he’ll be dropped like a hot potato. I also know his dad isn’t too keen on having a gay son. It would definitely break his family life, and I know how much of a sucker you are for that. There’s a lot at stake here for Austin, isn’t there? I don’t know how Austin became something to bet on, but he has. Not sure how you keep getting involved in my problems either, but here we are.” He holds his palms out like he’s only the bringer of bad news and not the cause of it.
I must be taking too long to answer because he keeps talking, “Listen, Sam, I know way more than you think I do about pretty much everything with your life. Your pal Michael gave me a lot of information on what you’ve been up to. We were meant to encounter each other again because of all the people for you to hookup with and start fucking, you choose Drew Morgan! Like what are the fucking odds? He’s the first victim of my transgressions. Bet you didn’t know that, did you?”
“What do you mean? Your first victim?” I ask, narrowing my eyes
“Oooh, I like it when you get all possessive. Drew didn’t just get hurt. I made him that way. It was supposed to happen.”
I gasp out loud. “You did it on purpose?” This guy is a psychopath, and I am in real danger.
“He was totally on the verge of being better than me, and I had to make sure he was out of my way. He was my biggest competition for the number one spot in the draft. I couldn’t risk not going as number one. If my father didn’t see me drafted as number one, I was going to get kicked out of the house, lose my car, shame the family, and all that nonsense. So, I hurt him. I can’t believe he actually left hockey, though. That was an extra bonus, and it only benefited me.”
“People believed it was an accident. He lost his entire career, not just a season, because of you!”
“I know, right? Isn’t it great?”
I stare at him in utter disbelief. I can’t believe I once thought I loved this man. He purposely hurt another player to make sure he remained number one in the rankings and draft. Spoiler, he was drafted first, but he never did make the pros. He couldn’t keep up with the high demands of it. He black mailed me with sex pictures to throw a hockey game I was officiating to get himself out of gambling trouble. Now, he is once again threatening me with photos of one of my players that would potentially jeopardize their career unless I paid him $500,000 to keep them hidden. If there even were any pictures. While this was no way for Austin to be outed, I wouldn’t be paying this scum a dime, and whatever the fall out was, I’d make sure I helped Austin as best I could. In fact, I was almost certain it wouldn’t jeopardize his career, but it would definitely hurt him personally. My integrity was not going to take another hit and I was not going to do what this man said. It was my time to say no to this asshole.
Feeling more courageous than I actually was, I remember my grandfather’s last wish for me: Face my fears, stop running from problems.
“Go to hell, Jason. You aren’t getting a dime from me. Get out.”
His grin drops quickly as he advances on me, and I try to put something between us. I attempt to lunge across the bed and grab my phone as I scramble across the covers. I’m not fast enough, and he catches me by the ankle, yanking me hard, back towards him. I fall to the floor with a thud, and my head bounces off the hard, carpeted surface. I try to clear the fog that is descending on me. I can’t let him touch me. Grabbing my hair, he yanks so hard, I’m sure clumps of it come out, and I scream in pain.
“Open your eyes, bitch, and look at me.”
I do as he says, but I can’t decide which of the three of him I can see is the real one. But I look at him anyway.
“You’ll regret ever saying no to me, Sam. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His fist descends on my face, and my nose feels like it exploded.
