by Royal Blue
When I push the bathroom door open, steam billows into my face. I step inside and close the door behind me. My brows draw in when I take in the sight before me. I can see a figure through the completely steamed-up shower glass, but it’s not nearly as tall as Kyle is.
As I get close enough, I pull the door open to look inside. My heart aches when I take it all in. Kyle is sitting on the shower floor, his arms resting over his knees, his fist clenching and unclenching. His jaw is tight with tension, and his eyes are bloodshot red. I know instantly that his face is wet from more than the shower raining down on him.
“Kyle—”
He shakes his head, then gestures behind me. As I turn, my eyes find a few crumpled pages sitting on the bathroom vanity. I move to it, lifting the pages to smooth them out.
I read them once, but my brain twists against the words. I go back to the beginning. Surely, I’m reading this all wrong. I turn, leaning my butt against the sink for support.
If you’re reading this Aunt Bethany has come for Mason. Don’t let anything that woman says cause you to walk away from my son. I picked you for a reason. Not only are you smart and talented, you’re a fierce protector. My baby needs your protection.
Let me first say this. I didn’t teach you to be tough so that you could hide who you are. I taught you to be tough so you could be who you are without hiding. This world has to learn to accept good people for being good people. Turning a blind eye to evil doers isn’t right.
What happened to us wasn’t right, but it didn’t make us the evil doers. It didn’t make us the bad people. My son isn’t a bad person because of who his father is.
You asked me so many times who Mason’s father was and I never told you for a reason. You have always been destined for greatness. I never wanted anything to get in the way of that. I know you and that damn Beau would have gone right to jail if I told you the truth then.
I’m only about to tell you now because my baby needs you. You can’t afford to be the wrath that avenges me. You do the right thing by my son, little brother. You stay out of jail for Mas.
I moved in with you because that bastard started showing up at my apartment a few months before. He threatened to tell the world about how I seduced him and broke up his happy marriage. Can you believe that shit?
When I didn’t cave and ask you for money for him, he…. This is hard for me to say even in this letter. I tried to forget that night. I moved in with you the next day. I thought I would never have to think of it again. Then Mas came along. He is the best thing that has ever happened to me, to us.
I want my son to grow up to be just like you, Kyle. Strong, loving, and a protector. I know what you tried to do for me. I see the way you are with your teammates. You’re everything a real man is supposed to be. Who you love has nothing to do with that.
But I want you to listen. Michael is not for you. You’re thickheaded, so I kept my mouth shut for the most part. That man is toxic. He doesn’t love you, he wants to own you. Much like that monster. Don’t settle for one monster over another. Leave him.
I’ve never been ashamed of you. I don’t think you know that. Never! I’m so proud of you. Teach my son what love sounds and feels like. If you do, when the time is right, he’ll know what it looks like for him.
Don’t let our hurt place my son in that house of horrors. Don’t let Aunt Bethany play to your weakness. You’re a good man. You’re the best and Mason deserves only the best.
I love you, K.
I blink back the tears that threaten to spill. I drop the letter on the counter as if it has burst into flames. I vow to be the one that rights some things on Kyle’s behalf. I tuck those thoughts to the side, turning back for my man in the shower. Stepping out of my shoes, I walk inside, close the door, and sit in front of him.
“She come here on that bullshit. Trying to make me feel bad. ‘You need to set good examples, Kyle.’ ‘He needs to be in an environment of strong black men, Kyle.’ ‘What do you know about raising a child?’ ‘You can’t be teaching him all that confused mess you grow up thinking.’ She spent a good hour poking at old wounds, trying to find the right spot,” he murmurs. “I’m not a little kid anymore. I wasn’t letting it go down like that.”
“Good for you. I’m sure Savanna is smiling down on you,” I say.
“He wanted her to ask me for money,” he says bitterly. “You know what the fucked-up part is?”
I shake my head, unable to speak.
“I was already giving him money. It was one of the first things Michael did for me. He drew up some papers, and we opened a bank account just for my so-called uncle. I give that bastard money every month to stay out of our lives, and he….”
I grab a hold of the front of his shirt, pulling him to me. He comes without a fight, moving between my legs and curling against my chest. I embrace him in the silence.
“It was the first trap Michael set for me. I thought he was superman for handling that for me. I agreed to our first date.” He gives a dry laugh. “Why now? Why is she pulling this shit now? After all I’ve been through. I’m not going to lose my nephew, and I’m not going to allow anyone else to ruin our happiness. I’m tired. It has to end.”
“It will,” I reply, kissing his forehead.
“Yeah, it will. I see what he’s doing. He’s pushing all the right buttons to expose me. He knew she would start asking questions and come for Mas. I won’t be forced out. I told my aunt all that shit in anger, but… I’m not going to feed into this shit. That letter only reminded me of how strong I am. How strong I’ve had to be. It revealed me.”
“Then I think your sister did exactly what she aimed to. She set you free,” I say against his skin.
“Yeah. She did.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: PRESSURE
Kyle
THIS IS it. We win tonight or go home. I’ve allowed my personal life to follow me onto the court. We started the conference finals up three, and now we’re tied. Everyone is blaming me. I see it in their faces. The commentators make no bones about it. Kyle Tyson is throwing the series.
The locker room has been thick with tension. You could slice into it. It’s not about the game anymore.
“Tyson, we could get you some pussy and get your game right,” they taunt.
“If you stop letting that white boy plunge you in the ass, you’d be able to move it on the court,” someone else said.
It has gone far beyond that. I could fight them all. I could tell them to suck my dick and go play without me, but that’s not the man I am. The man my sister saw me as.
Which is why tonight, I’ve left my everything on the floor. Fuck not being seen, everyone sees me anyway. Just like Andy. He thought no one could see him, but I proved him wrong. Now it’s my turn.
I refuse to hide behind my team to keep from having to say… I’m here. This is my choice to play like I own this court. To play like the star player I was born to be. Stars don’t hide; they shine. If shining means a closer look, let them look. I’m proud of who I am.
“Take the shot, Tyson. Take the shot,” my coach bellows from the sidelines.
It’s a three-pointer for the game. The clock is running out, and this is the moment that will define my future. A breeze brushes my fingertips as the ball releases from my hands. The arena goes completely silent. It’s like everything is in slow motion.
I can’t take my eyes off the ball. My lips are parted, my hands are still in the air in the same pose from when I released the shot. The whooshing sound unfreezes everything. The crowd roars with excitement, my team rushes me.
Nothing but net. I just sank an impossible three-pointer. We’re headed to the next round. I close my eyes and thank God. Tonight, this was all Him on this court. I pushed myself to limits I’ve never gone before. The whole time hearing in my head that I had this.
“Yeah, baby. I knew we could do it,” Rashad croons.
I should tell him to kiss my ass. He didn’t do shit. On top of that he’s been riding me
the hardest about the rumors about my sexuality. Taunting me, dropping his towel and watching to see if my eyes follow him. His ass should grow a dick before he tries to walk around like a peacock.
I let it roll off my back. This is too big a moment to allow any of that bull to get to me. I took a stand tonight. I may be the only one who knows and understands that, but I’m all that needs to know. I value the freedom in the decision I made to win.
I smile when I see Chris headed my way. He reaches out a hand for me to clasp and pulls me into a hug. He didn’t make this easy for me tonight at all.
“If I’m going to lose to anyone, I’m glad it’s you,” he says in my ear. “You stay strong and take it all, you got this. Remember you have a family that has your back. I’ll be on your couch for the next round cheering you on with your pretty-ass bae.”
“Don’t get punched in your mouth.” I chuckle at his teasing.
I’m not worried about Chris. His man would cut him, and he knows it. It’s just good-natured ribbing, unlike the locker room trash talking.
“Nah, you know it’s all love. I’m happy for you, man,” he says, before patting my shoulder and releasing me.
“You coming to the house in the morning?”
“No doubt.” Chris nods, moving out of the way for others that are clamoring to get to me.
I smile for the cameras and make my way through a few interviews before I get off the court. I’m on a high all the way to the locker room. I don’t let the press get to me as I shower and get ready to head home.
I’m slinging my bag over my shoulder when my agent, Mark, comes into view. My smile falters a bit. I know that forced smile on his face. Something is up.
“What’s up?” I dip my head and ask when I reach him.
“Not here. Let’s go,” he rushes out.
My brows draw in confusion, but I don’t argue. Mark’s quick pace has my hackles up. His legs aren’t half as long as mine, but I’m putting in effort to keep up with him.
I’m surprised when Mark leads us to my car and stands at the passenger side waiting to get in. I unlock the door and we both climb inside. I shift to toss my bag in the back, then focus on Mark.
“Drive. We want to get away from here before the vultures swoop in,” he says.
I start the car and pull out of the garage, my thoughts running a mile a minute. I know we had a few deals in the works, but tonight should have only sealed them.
“What do you know about a sex tape involving you?” Mark starts.
I have to slam on the breaks to keep from running into the car in front of me as my foot slips on the accelerator. I get caught at the light, and my head whips in his direction. I stare at him with shock written all over my face.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Mark pulls a hand down the front of his jaw. He looks stressed and just as confused as I feel. His green eyes trying to see through me for the truth. No way in hell I would ever consent to a sex tape.
“Dude, I get this crazy call after you won the game. Apparently someone’s claiming to have a tape of you and some dude. They said they can corroborate the stories about you and Andy Connor as well as other relationships—”
“You can stop right there with all that bullshit. There’s no tape,” I say.
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“Man, there’s no tape,” I say firmly.
“Listen, man. It’s okay if you’re gay. I hadn’t said anything before, but I’ve been getting calls since those pictures surfaced—”
“Pictures that meant nothing. The same pictures that are taken from a different angle showing a different scenario. What’s your point?” I cut him off.
“What I’m trying to say is… you have offers from companies that would love to back a gay NBA player. You can make this work in your favor. Let’s get ahead of this. I don’t know what’s going on, but it seems like someone’s out to expose you. Let’s beat them at their own game,” Mark replies.
“First of all, I’m not playing anyone’s game. I’ve told you over and over my life is not for anyone’s entertainment. Stop trying to make money off some shit you heard,” I fume.
A horn blares behind me, causing me to turn back to the road. I grind my teeth, ready to hit the roof. This is some crazy bullshit. I’ve seen this happen a million times. Someone cries red and players toss out money to hush a situation so it doesn’t get back to their wives.
I’m not having this shit. I’ve never placed myself in a position to have any intimate moments recorded. I’m not feeding into this.
“What do they want?” I bite out.
“That’s the thing. I thought they would want money or something. When I ask how we could get our hands on the video or keep it from surfacing, they hung up. I don’t know what you want me to do with this. I thought we could jump ahead of it. I know the locker room has been strained with the rumors. If you didn’t play your ass off tonight, the team was ready to talk trades to avoid the controversy—”
“Wait. What?”
“The team—”
“No, fuck them. They don’t have a team without me. They hung up?”
“Yeah, it was weird,” Mark replies.
I freeze.
Michael.
This is him. I know it is. Now, my question is did he record me without my knowledge, or is he just bluffing? All of this chaos—the rumors from out of thin air, the pictures, a sex tape—it started after that text. I know he’s behind the gasoline that keeps getting thrown on the flames.
“Don’t do a damn thing, Mark. I’ll take care of this,” I say.
“You sure? We can strategize,” he responds.
“I’m sure.”
Andy
THE TV suddenly cuts off. I turn to find the source, only to find Javier holding the remote with his hazel gaze now trained on me. It registers that the room is now completely silent. I look around, and everyone’s staring in my direction.
We’re all at Kyle’s house to watch the playoff game he just put his whole heart into tonight. The plan was for everyone to hang around to support him either way. I know it had to be hard for them to watch two of their good friends rivaling each other for the win. Chris played hard, but Kyle just took things to another level.
Darwin, Beau, Javier, Daniel, and Jordan are all here, as well as my two brothers. I somehow get the feeling that everyone knows what’s going on except for me and my siblings. John looks amused, and Mitch looks like his about to go on defense. Yet the two are watching me for a response to the shift in the atmosphere. I’m just as clueless as the two of them.
“We’re all his family. We know something is going on. Yes, he played amazing tonight, but we all know he hasn’t been himself. What isn’t he telling us?” Javier starts.
“There’s a lot going on, but it’s not my place to tell you what,” I reply.
“Does this have anything to do with that wanker ya had me look into? That slimy-as-fuck prick,” Mitch asks, narrowing his gaze at me.
“Mitch,” I warn.
“Has he been causing trouble?” my brother presses. “Has he come around?”
“No,” I huff.
“Are ya sure? Does he know about the car Kyle just bought ya?”
I pause. I still haven’t told Mitch my connection to Michael. Him bringing up the car suggests he may have dug some more after I told him to drop it.
“What would make you ask that?” I ask cautiously.
“Because his name came up on my radar again the other day,” Mitch says, his gaze homing in on me.
“Wait, who are we talking about here? And you better not say who I think,” Beau says.
“Michael Fairchild,” Mitch responds.
“Mitch, shut ya fucking gub,” I snap.
“No, please do continue,” Darwin says. “I’ve been waiting for that one to reappear. Never known him to turn away from anything he felt was his.”
“Hold on.” Mitch leans forward. “Ya were involved
with that prick?”
“If yer going to run ya lips ya should at least pay attention to the whole shebang,” I grumble, rolling my eyes. My ears feel hot as my frustration mounts and my blood begins to boil. “He and Kyle were involved.”
“I can see that. It makes perfect sense. He has a type,” Mitch muses.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Javier asks.
“All of the others were young and on their way to stardom. Black or Latino usually. From the inner city, just becoming exposed to wealth. Makes it easier for him to control their worlds and what they get accustomed to,” my brother says. “That and the funny flower. That stook has a thing for the white stuff.”
“Yeah, we all know that. He tried to get Kyle into that shit, but he wasn’t having it,” Daniel grumbles, making a sour face.
I feel the blood drain from my face. This is something I didn’t know. Michael has a number of DUIs that were swept up under the rug. I remember Kyle telling him to stay away from the coke at the party during their confrontation, but I had no idea he had tried to introduce Kyle to that shit.
“All of the others? Why does that sound so seedy? What are we missing?” Beau says, leaning in toward Mitch.
“That fucker has ruined the lives of several young lads. Kyle is the only one flying it. The rest have met with something real stink right after cutting ties with that dirty tooth,” Mitch says.
“Wait,” Jordan says, his blue eyes dancing with dark mirth. “I know this is serious, but the way you put things. I just want to clarify. Michael gets his guys hooked on cocaine. That’s something I sort of figured. But you’re also saying that Kyle is the only one that’s done well for himself after dating Michael. What the fuck happened to the rest of them?”
“Aye, ya got me, ya do,” Mitch replies. “Two lost their noodle and were committed to the funny house. He drove them mad as a box of frogs, he did.
