Page 92 of Pick Six

“They’ll get over it.”

“They’ll get over having a player infamous for abusing women, cheating, and threatening their husbands? With a history of a hair-trigger temper—hitting his teammates and bad behavior on and off the field? They’ll defend you when public opinion gets louder and louder?”

My heart sinks in my chest because she’s right. I’ve set myself up to be framed for this. People should know me better, especially people who know me well. But not everyone does or cares to.

“We can show them the truth about those pictures.”

“But who will they believe? Him or us?”

“You can tell them the truth.”

“They’ll say I don’t know myself. That I’ll say whatever I have to in order to protect you. They’ll do the same with your friends who would otherwise be able to call him a liar.” She gives me a sad regretful look, and I hate seeing it.

“We’ll get people to listen to the truth.”

“Maybe. But how long will it take? Because at a certain point, no one cares anymore.”

She’s right and the thought hits me hard. By the time we get through the initial outrage he’ll cause, even if we can get people to believe our story is the real one, it’ll be so late the damage will already be done.

“So what, he just fucking wins? You’re just going to start seeing him again?” I feel sick at the thought of losing her a second time. I can’t do it.

“I don’t know. I’m hoping there’s a way out of this. Like I said, I already talked to Violet a bit when I asked to come to stay with her. She said we’d figure out a way, and I hope so. I really do. We’ve got a week before he said he’d do anything. He gave me that much time to move out and break things off.”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

“Make it look like you’re moving on with your life I guess.”

She looks lost, and I sit down next to her, kissing her forehead before I sit back.

“There’s got to be another way. I can’t just watch you walk out the door knowing he’s threatening you, and just sit here and do nothing.”

“I don’t know, Alex. I really don’t. But I can’t… I can’t watch you go down like that. I can’t watch everyone at the museum lose everything they’ve worked so hard for because of me. I can’t do it.” Tears start to form in her eyes again and I feel guilty that I’m part of the reason.

“I know, Saint. I know.” I grab her hand and hold it in mine.

“So I guess this is goodbye for now,” she says quietly, squeezing my hand like I’m the one who needs reassurance.

“We’ll figure something out.”

“But if we don’t… I can’t let it go any other way. You know that, right?” There’s a resolution in her voice, and I can’t blame her for it.

“I know. I understand.” I kiss the back of her hand. “We’ll figure it out though.”

“And please, keep your promise? I know what you must be feeling with him threatening us this way, but you not taking the bait is key to us figuring out another solution. I don’t want to worry about you.”

“I promise you, Saint. I won’t.” It pains me to agree to it, but I don’t want to add to her stress.

“Thank you.” She kisses me and then looks at her luggage. “I should go sit in the lobby. Violet’s coming to pick me up shortly.”

“Okay. But if you need anything. You tell me. You can call me anytime. Middle of the night. When I’m on the road. I don’t care, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods. I can tell she’s trying hard not to cry and it’s ripping my heart out.

“I’ll miss you. Be safe, Saint.” I wrap my arms around her.

“You too.” She whispers the words and I can hear the tears in her voice as she presses her face to my chest.

I take my promise to her seriously. So I might not be able to bash his face in, but I would make sure that he hurts for this. Make sure that he can never fucking make her cry again. This would be the last fucking time.