No Good Deed （27）

Everyone was silent when Ryan walked into the arena that following Tuesday for practice, including him. He entered the locker room, made a beeline toward his stall, and began unloading his personal belongings. The eyes of the other players were fixed on him; he could feel it, but no one said a word to him. He grabbed a roll of tape and started to wrap his right hand when Nick approached him.

"Can I give you a hand with that?" he asked gently.

"Nah."

"Let me see." Nick lifted a hand to his face, and Ryan turned his head to give a better look at his swollen black eye, which hurt like a son of a bitch. "Vision's alright?"

"Yep."

"Hey. What you did for her…"

"Don't mention it," he interrupted coldly.

"They're, uh, they're gonna call a meeting with you in a few. Just wanted to give you a heads-up. Hastings is beyond pissed."

"I figured."

"I just want you to know, you did the right thing, man. Halloway's a legit piece of shit. Always has been."

"Thanks, man," Ryan said quietly.

"Anyway, I'd wait to dress. I don't know…you might not be staying, is all." Nick patted him on the shoulder. "Whatever happens, just know you did the right thing."

Ryan had a seat at his stall, crossed his arms, and awaited his punishment, thinking back to that night and everything that had transpired.

He and Amara had practically run from Husghesy's house, fearing that someone may have called the cops. Having Ubered to a nearby hotel, she cleaned him up in the shower and washed the blood out of his shirt in the bathtub, hanging it to dry on the shower curtain rod. Afterward, they both lay in silence, each of them on a different double bed, with Ryan finally breaking it.

"What the fuck were you thinking going into a bathroom with him?"

"There it is! I was wondering how long it would take for you to blame me."

"A fucking bathroom, Mar?"

"Are you intentionally being ironic right now, or…?"

"You don't ever think, do you?"

"Ryan, all the bedrooms were full and I kinda wanted to blow him, OK? I'm single, so I really don't see the problem."

"You were just with me a few hours before that."

"And? You've never had multiple hookups in the same day? Because we both know that's a fuckin' lie."

"That's…different."

"Different. Right. So, you're the only one who gets a free pass to be a slut then. Is that it?"

"He's married, Amara. With two young kids. You're literally no better than the whore who fucked your ex."

He regretted it as soon as it'd left his lips. She'd almost been sexually assaulted and had been physically assaulted, both of which infuriated him. He knew neither was her fault, but he didn't have the first clue how to process the blinding rage that was slowly consuming him. He knew she didn't know he was married until she saw the ring on the floor, but his anger begged him to say something that would hurt her.

And hurt her he did; she hadn't spoken one unnecessary word to him since.

He couldn't get past the fact that she'd just been with him earlier that night and then was willing to go off with another man mere hours later. He couldn't get past the fact that other guys found her attractive and wanted to be with her. And mostly, he couldn't get past the fact that she wasn't his girl anymore but was continuing to lead him on.

He'd na?vely thought after they'd hooked up at the game and flirted a bit, maybe they could give it another shot. Instead, all the bullshit happened with Hayes and Jenna, then the party, and the night just hadn't gone the way Ryan had planned.

What he did to Neil Halloway was of course retribution for his treatment of Amara, but it was more complicated than that. The punches he'd thrown were also punches he wanted to throw at his deteriorating relationship with Amara.

They were punches he wanted to throw at Hayes for going to the show first and for whatever the fuck he and Amara had going on between them.

They were punches he wanted to throw at himself for being such a mentally unstable whore that he chased away the only woman he'd ever given half a damn about.

They were punches he wanted to throw at his shitty performance as a shitty defenseman in a shitty development league.

Most of all, they were punches he wanted to throw at the colossal fucking mess he'd managed to make of his life.

And what scared him the most is that he's pretty sure if those two guys hadn't pulled him off, he would've beaten Neil Halloway to death.

"Baylor." Rizz called his name and snapped him back to reality. "Coach Hastings needs to see you. Come on."

He got up and they walked slowly to the conference room. "Hey, I heard what happened, and for what it's worth, you were 100 percent justified."

"Thanks, man. Think Coach will say the same?"

"I doubt that. But whatever happens, I support you, man. I just wanted you to know that."

They arrived at the door, which was cracked, so Ryan walked in. Seated at the table were Coach Hastings, Coach Reilly, who was the defensive coach, and the Bridgeport GM, a pompous ass named Tom Sellars, who Ryan had met briefly at his contract signing.

"Close the door behind you," Coach Hastings directed. Ryan did and had a seat across from them. "I'm assuming you know why we called you here."

"I do."

"As I'm sure you know, this is a professional organization, and this kind of behavior is highly frowned upon, Ryan," the GM lectured. "We've heard some things about what happened, but we wanted to give you a chance to speak to it. We'd like to hear your side of the story before we make a decision about your future here."

Ryan took a deep breath and folded his hands on the table in front of him, hoping that he'd be able to remember what he'd practiced a million times in preparation for this meeting.

He spoke slowly. "My roommate and I attended a party at Aiden Hughes's house on Gilgo Beach following the Islanders-Leafs game on Sunday night. We were at the game to support Tyler Hayes in his NHL debut." He gulped and took another deep breath, feeling his anxiety creeping up. "While at the party, my roommate entered a bathroom with Neil Halloway with the intention of engaging in sexual activity with him, and upon learning he was married, she asked him to stop. He refused, and when she tried to push him away, he hit her in the face. She has a bruise from it."

He looked across the table and noticed Sellars scribbling notes in a notebook. "Then what?"

"I met up with her shortly after, and upon learning what had happened, I retaliated against Neil Halloway for what he'd done to her."

"Allegedly done to her," Sellars added.

"Sir, with all due respect, that's what happened. My roommate isn't a liar."

"These are serious accusations, Ryan. Against a veteran player who's been a pivotal part of this organization for over eight years."

"I understand that, Sir. But none of the accusations are false."

"Isn't it possible that maybe it didn't go down exactly as she told you it did?" Hastings chimed in. "You know, maybe they were messing around, it got a little rough, she got angry after learning he was married and wanted to get back at him? Come on, man. You know how these women are."

Ryan could feel his blood beginning to boil and his face turning red. "Coach, again, with all due respect, she isn't a liar. If she told me that's what happened, then that's what happened."

"And you proceeded to beat Neil Halloway to the point of a fractured orbital and a concussion. He's out for at least four weeks. He was taken to the ER. Did you know that?"

What Ryan wanted to say was "Good. The pussy got what he deserved." But what he said instead was, "No, I didn't. And I'm glad he'll be OK. I was angry, and I got carried away. I should have shown more restraint."

"You should've kept your fucking hands to yourself, Baylor!" Hastings yelled, pounding the table. "Do you understand the position this puts me in? I…Jesus, kid, I liked you."

"You're very lucky you didn't catch an assault charge. You could be sitting in jail right now if we hadn't done so much damage control," Coach Reilly said. "There don't seem to be any videos, thank God, but we've had to scrub this shit clean on so many levels."

"An assault charge?" Ryan asked incredulously. "I would think Halloway could've caught one as well for attempted sexual and successful physical assault against my roommate."

"Alleged," Sellars added again.

It was clear who was the favorite in this situation, and it wasn't Ryan Baylor.

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. Alleged. Sorry, you'll have to forgive me. I'm young and I forgot how these things work in this league for a minute."

"Excuse me, kid?" Sellars growled.

"She's gonna get the Kyle Beach treatment. Cover it up and deny it ‘til you die, isn't that right? Wouldn't dare wanna risk any bad publicity or loss of ticket revenue."

"Baylor, you're way out of line!" Hastings yelled, standing up.

Ryan stood up as well. "Coach? You have two daughters. They're what, 12 and 15, is that right?"

"What's your point?"

"As a father, I'd imagine you'd want your little girls surrounded by men like me, willing to stand up for them when shit hits the fan, no? Or would you rather them be surrounded by rapey assholes like Neil Halloway?"

"This…isn't about me, and it isn't about them. This is about you and the fact that you physically assaulted a member of this organization to the point of hospitalization. Don't forget that, Baylor."

"Right," he said, pushing in his chair. "Listen, this meeting is over…"

"Sit down, kid. This meeting is over when I say it's over," Sellars ordered.

"No. It's over now. Do whatever you have to do with me. But I'm not going to sit here for another moment and have my integrity and my roommate's integrity called into question. Do whatever you have to do. Shoot me a text. I'm gonna go dress for practice." With that, he walked out of the conference room, slamming the door on the way out.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall in the hallway, as the adrenaline dump caught up with him, and his legs began to shake. When he opened his eyes, to his shock, all the guys were lined up outside the door, all of them, Nick included, with their fists out. Thankfully, they were lined up on the left side, since his right knuckles were practically burger. He bumped them, one by one, with Seggy giving him a nod of approval, as he made his way back towards the locker room.

Rizz was the last one in line, and when Ryan got to him, he collapsed into his arms and broke down. "It's all good, brother. You're brave. Just breathe through it, OK?" Rizz said softly, running his hands up and down his back. "I'm proud of you, Baylor."

For the first time in over two months, he knew he was right where he belonged.

He just wasn't sure for how much longer.