Page 87 of Payback
NORMALLY WHENIWALK INTOTower Park, I feel like a man on top of the world. I feel like someone who won the fucking lottery and gets paid to play his favourite game.
Today, I feel like the tattered nets that are tossed into the trash.
It’s been five days since the video released. Five days since my world was turned upside down. And five days since I walked away from the only woman I’ve ever loved.
The press have been relentlessly trying to get me to do an interview. Other pornography sites have been calling with offers of huge sums of money to let them publish the video legally. It’s been a disaster.
And my mother…My mother is at a loss for words, which is a rare thing when it comes to her. She didn’t see the video, thank fuck. Nor did my sisters or gran. But it’s been reported on the news, even down in South Africa, so the shame that I’ve brought to all of them kills me. Itkillsme.
Our team lawyer, Santino, has been working around the clock, issuing takedowns for every pirated copy of the video that pops up on the internet. Legal action has begun to sue the owner of the IP address that uploaded the video without consent, which happens to be Allie’s very lovely cunt of a stepsister.
Today, I’m at Tower Park to meet with Vaughn, Niall, and Santino to sign a statement for the world because the longer I stay silent, the worse it all looks. And I’m ninety percent sure today is the day I’m getting fired from Bethnal Green F.C.
I wish I could care. I wish I could muster the strength to stand up and fucking fight for my place on the team. But my heart is too empty to fight. My soul has shrivelled up to nothing and my drive has disappeared into thin air. Right now, I just want to go the fuck home.
Vaughn’s secretary waves me through toward his office. As I walk in, Vaughn states in an ominous tone, “Close the door behind you, son.”
I do as I’m told and take the open seat in front of Vaughn’s desk beside Santino, who smiles sympathetically and pats me on the shoulder. It feels patronising even though I know he doesn’t mean it that way. I don’t like needing help. I don’t like being someone who causes waves and creates drama. I’ve spent the majority of my life completely drama free and now I’ve managed to reach my lifetime max of drama in less than a week.
Avoiding eye contact with Vaughn, I glance over at Niall, who’s perched on the credenza in front of the large glass window that overlooks the pitch. He’s dressed in another one of his perfect grey suits with a banana-yellow tie that sets me on edge for some reason.
Finally, I force myself to look at my manager—a man who has been like a father to me since I came to London—and my stomach rolls when I realise he can’t even make eye contact with me.
Vaughn clears his throat and stares down at the papers on his desk as he says, “Thanks for coming in today, DeWalt. I’m sure the last few days have been difficult for you.”
I nod silently, my jaw ticking with fear, but I steel myself to remain composed.
“We’ve drawn up a statement to the media,” Niall says, pushing himself off the back desk and walking toward me with a piece of paper in his hand. “But we need you to sign it before we can have it issued.”
I look at the paper in his hand and inhale deeply. “Does that statement say I’m no longer a player for Bethnal Green F.C.?”
Vaughn’s eyes snap up from his desk. “What?”
I swallow the knot in my throat, trying to be strong but feeling like I could break into a million pieces over the thought of leaving the team. I even hate the idea of leaving Tanner, who hates the ground I walk upon right now, but it’s the fucking ground we walk on together.
“I assume you’ve brought me in here to let me go,” I clarify, needing to hear the words out loud before I see them in black and white.
Niall barks out a hyenic laugh that grates on my nerves. “We haven’t brought you in for that. This is a strategy meeting.”
“Strategy?” I ask, looking back and forth between Vaughn and Niall.
“They need someone to fall on the sword is more like it,” Santino says, sharing a displeased look with Vaughn.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
Niall grabs a chair from the side of the room and props it right in front of me. He unbuttons his suit jacket before lowering himself into the chair. “Look, I know Allie is Vaughn’s niece, but the truth of the matter is she is not a player for the team and Vaughn’s loyalty must go to you in this matter.”
“All right,” I reply slowly, still not following.
Niall hands me the paper and continues, “This statement says that Alice Harris knowingly recorded a nonconsensual sexual video of you and that legal charges have been filed.”
“What?” I exclaim, sitting forward and swerving my eyes to Santino. “Have legal charges been filed against Allie?”
Santino shakes his head, eyeing Niall sternly. “No. We’ve only filed charges against Rosalie Dawson since she is the individual who illegally uploaded and distributed the video.”
“But the public doesn’t give a shit about Rosalie Dawson—a nobody from Chicago,” Niall states, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees and getting annoyingly close to me. “They need someone they recognise to take the blame. This statement says that Alice Harris has been terminated from all employment pertaining to Bethnal Green F.C., as well as the PR firm representing the team. It says thatsheknowingly published the video without written consent from you and will accept all legal action here forth.”
“Allie was fired?” I ask, standing up and dropping the sheet of paper on my chair like it’s poison. “Has that already happened?”
