Nate, p.19
Nate, page 19
part #10 of Las Vegas Sidewinders Series
His father’s marriages.
The abuse.
The years of therapy.
His virginity.
How could she?
The man who’d molested him had not been mentioned by name, but they’d listed every youth hockey league he’d played for before going to prep school. There were details about his grades, quotes from some of his friends and teammates in high school, and dear God, from his last stepmother. The quotes brought up the contents of his stomach and he ran from the room.
“Nice guy, but a total prude.”
“Never got past first base with him—he wasn’t like most of the other guys on the team.”
“I always thought his father coddled him too much—wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t like girls at all.”
The words ran through his head as everything he’d eaten in the last week came back up. When he was fairly certain there was nothing left, he washed his face and brushed his teeth for the second time this morning. He had no idea what had driven Chelsea to betray him this way, but he couldn’t think about her right now. The only thing he would allow himself to think about was damage control. He had to call Lana and his father and—
“You okay, man?” Tore’s voice was soft as he knocked.
“Yeah.” Nate opened the door and looked at his friends. “And yeah, it’s true. My coach molested me.”
“What a fucking piece of shit,” Zaan hissed, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry, man.”
“It was a long time ago,” Nate said quietly. “I can’t believe she…” He stopped. “Tell me who else knows.”
“Probably the whole team.” Tore looked guilty. “Since Chelsea started writing about us, we all read it every morning, looking for her stuff.”
“Great. I’m now the laughingstock of the NHL.”
There was another knock on the door and Nate threw his hands up. “Could you tell everyone to back the hell off for five fucking minutes so I can get my head around this?”
“I’ve got it.” Tore moved to the door, speaking quietly to someone.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Zaan said, sitting next to Nate on the edge of the bed. “Whatever you need to get through this, we’ve got your back.”
“I appreciate it, but unfortunately, there’s nothing that’s going to make this go away. This is going to be huge news, and I’m going to get shit every time I get on the ice.”
“No.” Toli came into the room shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen. We won’t allow it. What happened to you had to have been terrible, and there isn’t a single player in the league who hasn’t either been exposed to the same thing or known someone who has. We don’t talk about it, but we know, and dammit, you’re not going to be hurt by this again. Not on my watch. And I’ve spoken to Cody and Dom—we’re already on this with the team and will be reaching out to people we know on other teams.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Nate buried his face in his hands. He didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or beat the living shit out of someone, but right now he refused to do either.
“Did you break up?” Toli asked quietly. “I thought things were good with Chelsea.”
“They are!” Nate threw his hands up in frustration. “I made her a key to my apartment as part of her Christmas present. We’re planning to go to Hawaii during the break. She’s supposed to go to the New Year’s Eve party at Club Inferno with me. I have no idea what happened. Even if she was just after me for my money or whatever, this sure as shit wasn’t the way to get it.”
“Makes no sense,” Toli agreed. “Do you think she was more pissed than she let on that you spent Christmas with another woman?”
“We talked about it—repeatedly. She was disappointed but that’s when I told her I’d make it up to her and we started talking about the New Year’s party and Hawaii and stuff. The day before I left she had the flu and instead of napping, I spent the afternoon taking care of her. I mean…I really don’t get it.”
“Are you going to call her?”
“Yes, but not yet.” Nate shook his head. “I’m too pissed right now. And I can’t think of any possible reason she’d do this to me. The only people who know I was molested other than my therapists over the years are my father, Whitney, and Chelsea. And I’d cut off my nuts before I’d believe Whitney did this. She has a stalker she’s hiding from. One phone call to Boston and I could tell him how to find her, so there’s no way she’d hurt me like this. The only person who could’ve done this is Chelsea, but that makes no sense whatsoever.”
“Your father wouldn’t do it, would he?” Tore asked quietly. “You’ve said you don’t get along.”
“No. We butt heads a lot, but he loves me and I love him. No way.”
Toli sighed. “Damage control starts now. Get your shit, we have a plane to catch.”
Nate got up wearily, reaching for his bag.
“I’m gonna find you something to eat,” Zaan said, jogging out ahead of them toward the elevator.
“It’s going to be okay,” Toli said quietly. “Trust me. We’re all here for you.”
Nate’s phone rang before he could answer, and Whitney’s name flashed on the screen. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, but Whitney would get on a plane and find him if he didn’t answer.
“What the fuck did that bitch do?” she hissed as soon as he answered.
“I guess you read it.”
“Listen, I’ll say we’ve had sex. I will step forward and out my location to Dennis while telling the whole world we’ve slept together if that would help.”
He smiled in spite of himself. “You’re the best, Whit, but no. My sex life isn’t anybody’s business. Besides, if your stalker found you and hurt you, I’d have to kill him, and I’d wind up in jail. Which would be bad.”
“I’m so pissed at her,” Whitney raged. “I mean, I have half a mind to call that newspaper and—”
“No! Honey, please, I love you for caring, but it’s best if we don’t say or do anything. The fact of the matter is, no matter how inflammatory the story is, nothing in there is a lie. Except maybe my senior prom date calling me a prude. Just because I didn’t fuck her on prom night doesn’t mean I’m a prude.”
Whitney chuckled. “Tell me her name and I’ll go kick her ass too.”
“Look, I have to go. We have a flight to catch.”
“If you need me, I’m a flight away. I can be in Vegas in about eight hours.”
“I know. Thank you. Talk to you later.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” He hung up and followed Toli into the hallway. This was definitely going to be the worst day of his adult life.
Nate was the last one to get on the plane, flanked by Toli and Zaan. Everyone looked up but no one said a word. Nate was mildly nauseated again, but Coach Barnett stood up and gave him an inscrutable look.
“As soon as we’re in the air, we’re having a team meeting,” he said. “But I want you to know everyone in this organization has your back, whatever you choose to do about this situation. And I’d really like the name of the coach that did this to you.”
Someone behind him snorted out, “Then you’re gonna tell me so I can fuck him up.”
“You and me both,” someone else said.
“All right, boys, we need to get settled for takeoff and we’ll pick this conversation back up.” He sat down again.
Nate sat next to Zaan, with Tore across the aisle from him and Toli and Cody in the row in front of them. He was already mentally exhausted and the flight hadn’t even started yet.
34
Chelsea stormed into the building. She hadn’t showered or put on makeup, and she was so mad she was shaking. Her mother had seen the article first and had woken her to ask her about it. Chelsea had no idea how this had happened, but she was going to find out.
“Hey, Chelsea, I—” Rita began.
“Not now, Rita.” Chelsea walked into Teddy’s office and threw her parents’ copy of the paper on his desk. “What the fuck is this?”
“You might want to check your tone, Chelsea.” Teddy looked up warily.
“I don’t work here anymore, so I can take any fucking tone I please. What the fuck did you do to my story?”
“I made it better.”
“Bullshit. You stole private information from me and twisted my words.”
“I did no such thing. Marv did his own investigation and got all the details you were holding out on us. It’s called good journalism and investigative reporting.”
“It’s called tabloid journalism and clickbait.”
“Clickbait isn’t illegal and it sells papers. Besides, this is the story of a lifetime. An NHL star who was sexually abused by a coach? That man needs to be in jail. Don’t you want justice for him?”
“Don’t sugarcoat what you did by pretending to care about what happened to Nate. If you cared about that, the headline would have been about sexual abuse, not whether or not Nate is scoring off the ice.”
“Like I said, that’s what sells papers.”
“You changed my story without my permission.”
“That’s my prerogative as the managing editor. Marv came to me with information that spiced it up so I gave him a mutual byline. Your name was first, by the way.”
“Take my name off it,” she hissed, slamming her palm down flat on the desk.
“Not gonna happen.”
“I can’t believe something no one will remember in a week was worth humiliating a man who did nothing wrong and losing one of your best journalists,” she whispered, whirling around angrily.
“Chelsea, you’re overreacting,” Teddy called after her.
“Fuck you.”
“Chelsea, what—” Rita tried to follow her.
“Sorry, Rita, I can’t talk to anyone right now.” Chelsea ran out the front doors, got into her car and burst into tears.
After trying to call Nate half a dozen times and his phone going directly to voicemail, she put her car in gear and drove to Renee’s house. Jen was out of town and she couldn’t go home right now. She was too angry. Too hurt. And her mother’s sympathy wouldn’t help.
She rang the doorbell hoping Renee was home and wouldn’t mind the unannounced visit.
“Hi.” Renee opened the door with a mug of coffee in her hand. “You look like you’ve had a rough morning. Come on in.”
“Am I interrupting anything?” Chelsea walked in after her hesitantly.
“I’m writing, but it’s okay. You want a cup of coffee?”
“Sure. Thank you.” Chelsea sank down on one of the stools at the island in Renee’s large gourmet kitchen.
“Cream and sugar?”
“Just cream.”
Renee put a steaming mug of coffee and a creamer with half and half in front of her with a spoon and a napkin.
“Are you hungry? I have some fresh scones I made this morning.”
“You made scones?”
“Sometimes I can’t sleep so I bake.”
“Oh. Sure. I guess. Thank you.” Chelsea didn’t know what she was saying anymore and poured an ample amount of cream into her coffee and then took a long sip. It was hot and creamy, with a hint of vanilla, and it was the only good thing about today so far.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Renee asked, putting out a platter with scones and something that looked like white butter, two small plates, and two knives. “I don’t know if you like clotted cream, but I also have regular butter.”
“This is great, thank you. And no, I don’t even know what to say about that damn article. I would have never published a story like that about Nate. God, he must hate me.”
“So you didn’t write it?”
“The only part of that article that’s mine is a couple of the quotes and the part I got from his dad. Everything else was written by Marv, but I don’t understand how he found out Nate was molested. I never told anyone except Jen, and she wouldn’t. I mean, it’s not possible. We’ve been friends since high school. Speaking of which…” Her phone rang and Jen’s name flashed on the screen. “Excuse me a minute. Hey, Jen.”
“Oh my God!” Jen was yelling. “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know. The only other person that knew about Nate was you.”
“Wait, you think I leaked that info to fucking Marv?” Jen sounded furious.
“No, I don’t, but I don’t know how this happened. You’re the only person I told.”
“Are you sure? Did you tell your mom? You know how she talks to her bunco girls.”
“She didn’t know until this morning. Seriously, you’re the only person that knew.”
“I’d set myself on fire before I’d betray you. You have to know that.”
“I do.”
“Then we need to think about this. Who did you tell?”
“No one.” A bad feeling filled Chelsea. “Jen, do you think you told someone by accident? Like maybe Tore? You got really drunk the night you met him.”
“I…” Jen’s voice faded. “I don’t think so, but I guess it’s possible. Geez, Chelsea, you think so? You think he’d do that to his friend and teammate?”
“I’m guessing there’s a lot of jealousy sometimes, and maybe Tore is having a bad year? I don’t get that impression, but maybe he doesn’t like Nate and is trying to get rid of him?”
“Let me think on this,” Jen said quietly. “I have a meeting in five minutes, but I’ll call you later today, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” Chelsea hung up sadly and looked at Renee. “The only thing I can think of is that my best friend, Jen, told Tore the night we were all drinking. She got really drunk and I think they went out again the next night and hooked up. That’s the only plausible explanation because she never would have done it maliciously.”
“And Tore called that horrible Marv guy and told him? To what end?”
“Professional jealousy?” Chelsea rested her chin in her hands. “Speaking of which, my career is over before it even began. No one will ever agree to an interview with me again.”
“So it’s all true then? The stuff in the article?”
Chelsea nodded miserably.
“And you knew what happened with Nate’s old coach?”
She nodded again.
“You’re definitely in a pickle. What can I do?”
“I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do. Nate’s on a plane today but I doubt he wants to hear my side of the story—what possible explanation is there? I mean, there has to be one because I didn’t do this but from his perspective? Would you believe me?”
“I’d give you a chance to explain, especially if you were someone important to me.”
“I’d like to think so, but my guess is, he’s going to ghost me hard.”
“Have you spoken to your editor?”
Chelsea laughed, but it was without mirth. “Yeah, he was completely unrepentant. Clickbait sells is all he had to say for himself. So I quit. You know anyone hiring? I have bills to pay.”
“What type of work do you need?”
“I’m thinking waitressing will bring in the most money in the immediate future.”
“I’ll ask around at a few places I frequent, see what I can find for you.”
“Thank you.” Chelsea squeezed her eyes shut. “Why does it feel like my life is over?”
“It’s a bad day, for sure, but it’s going to be all right. You’ll see. Have you been online at all to see what’s what?”
Chelsea shook her head. “Don’t have the stomach for it.”
“Did you read the Sidewinders’ official statement about it?”
“No.” Chelsea nearly cringed.
“Here, let me read it to you.” Renee reached for her tablet and typed something in. “Here it is. We’re disappointed that the Observer decided to take something so personal and share it without Mr. Calloway’s permission, but that is their First Amendment right. However, rest assured they will not be granted press access after this.”
“Good,” Chelsea muttered.
“Maybe you should reach out to Lana. You said you guys had a good relationship. Don’t you have her cell?”
“Yeah, but…” She shrugged half-heartedly. “I don’t have anything to say. I can say I didn’t do it, but my byline is on the article. I know things no one else knows. It had to be me. And even if it wasn’t me, it was probably Jen, which means it was indirectly me.”
“I thought you believed her?”
“I believe she didn’t do it on purpose, but drunk Jen spilling everything to a cute guy she hooked up with? It’s probable. So not only did I ruin my career, but I also hurt the man I’m in love with by trusting my best friend.”
“Just breathe, honey. You’re going to get through this. Let’s have another cup of coffee and see if we can come up with a plan.”
Plan? What plan could they possibly come up with? This felt like a lot more than just a bad day. More like a bad life.
35
Nate didn’t know what to expect from his teammates, and though he didn’t think any of them would be assholes to his face, he had to be a laughingstock right now. The humiliation burned through his gut like the worst indigestion he’d ever had, and he couldn’t stomach the breakfast sandwich Zaan had so thoughtfully bought for him.
“Team meeting,” Coach Barnett called once they were in the air. He stood up at the front of the plane, leaning on one of the seats, with Cody next to him. “We’ve weathered our share of storms in the six years we’ve been a team. Dom’s wife getting kidnapped. Toli getting shot and Marco getting killed at Toli’s wedding—”
“That wasn’t my fault!” Toli called out, making most of the guys chuckle.
“The worst was when those thugs almost killed Jamie,” Coach Barnett continued. “And then he came back and married Viggo, so we have the only two openly gay players in the league, not just on the team but married to each other. We’ve had more than our fair share of public drama and we’ve handled every situation with class, dignity, and as a family. This will be no different. As long as you play for me, on this team, you’re family.” His gaze settled on Nate. “That includes the rookies. I know it’s embarrassing, son, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. You were a victim. I don’t know how this got out, or what the rest of the story is, but since you haven’t denied anything, I’m assuming it’s all true.”
