24. Dom

CHAPTER 24

DOM

I leave Cam sleeping wrapped in a pile of sheets. It's hard not to succumb to the urge to trail kisses up his spine until he's awake enough to kiss me goodbye.

Jesus, Dom, it's just a breakfast meeting. It's not like you're going to be gone for weeks instead of a few hours.

I know Cam plans on getting back into the studio today. He's been practicing a little here and there, and keeping up with his yoga, but hasn't spent any significant time in the studio during his forced recovery. It's been four days since the incident, so I agree it's time for him to get back to it. We've been talking about his audition tape for the World Ballet Championship, and there isn't long to complete it. Cameron decided he wants to go through with it, even if Emile manages to block his entry into the competition. He wants to at least know that he tried, that he did everything he could and pushed himself to succeed.

"If I give up, then it's on me," he said.

Today he's going to practice his original choreography, and later tonight, when the lighting is exactly right, we're going to record it to send in with his application. Between practice sessions, he's also going to work on adding to the biography portion of the application, turning it into somewhat of an essay about his artistic journey and why the competition is important to him. Especially if any of the drama with Alistar goes public, he'll need to be able to show what kind of character he has.

"Break a leg, tiny dancer," I whisper to him as I back out of the room to go meet Dwayne.

As pathetic as it sounds, I miss him the moment I close the door behind me. I've gotten way too comfortable spending all my time with one person. He probably needs breathing space.

Dwayne meets me at our favorite greasy spoon diner a few blocks from the gym. He lifts two fingers off the table in a half-hearted gesture of a wave.

Things between us have been more than awkward. It's worse than after dad died, and I wanted to move across the country to keep pursuing the sport that killed our father. Dwayne followed me and supported me, even though our mother would barely talk to me. And after my accident nearly proved her right, he was the one that stood by me and watched me spin my wheels, sinking deeper into despondency, the longer I went without being able to fight. It was Dwayne that made me see the silver lining, that pointed out everything I still could do with my career. And when I called him all those months ago, despite not wanting me to do the fight, he still came back to Vegas and helped me pack my things and move home so he could train me.

If he could forgive me for all of that, will he be better able to forgive me for this? Or is this going to be the last straw?

For a while, we stick to planning the details for the fight. He's got our flight confirmations, a car service booked, and the resort that is hosting the fight is providing accommodations. All we really have to worry about is the weigh-in, staying warm, and staying calm.

"Speaking of staying calm," Dwayne says, shifting uncomfortably. He looks around as if checking that no one is paying attention to us.

I think for a moment that he's going to say something about the elephant in the room, and I steel myself. I've been waiting for him to bring it up first, so I could have the opportunity to apologize and assure him that I have good intentions when it comes to Cam.

But that's not what he wants to talk about. Well, it is, sort of. But not the way I thought it would come up.

Dwayne pulls a small stack of tabloids and this morning's sports section out of his messenger bag and plops it on the table in front of me. Plastered all over the new and tabloids are pictures of me and Cam. Interestingly, they're completely different pictures. The tabloids have the photos that were taken last night, although more had been taken than I was aware of. There are pictures of us sitting close together in the booth at the restaurant, feeding each other and laughing. And there are photos of us walking down the street, arm in arm. I had a good feeling the photos the man on the street took might end up online or in a tabloid, and after a brief moment of panic, I realized I didn't care. Other than not wanting to drag Cam into the ugliness of the public eye, I could give a shit less what anyone thinks about me or my relationship.

The photo in the paper is different, though. This isn't some grainy photo taken by a rando with a cell phone. This, I'm pretty sure, is one of the photos that Cam told me about. The ones from where Alistar had him fired. Which means Alistar is trying to distract from his own scandal by creating new ones. The picture itself isn't damning, it's just a photo of us jogging across the park. Just like the other photos, I don't give a shit if the whole world knows I'm with him. No, the worst part is the headline.

Dom Connor Caught With Male Escort

Pictured: Retired boxer Domenick Connor kisses an attractive young man half his age while out for a stroll in an Atlanta park.

It might seem like a modern day "Pretty Woman" scenario, but a source close to the unlikely couple says that America's favorite "Gentle Giant" is being extorted by young male dancer Cameron Rae Stevens. The anonymous former friend and coworker told us that twenty-four year-old Cameron Stevens, also known as Cameron Rae in the exotic dance and escort circuits, has been known to seduce, extort, and attempt to discredit older men who fall vulnerable to his charms. More on page 7A about the scandalous investigation into his involvement with his former employer and lover…

"They're trying to paint Cameron like he's some kind of gold-digging, conniving slut," he spits, slamming his finger on the paper. "Open to the article, Dom."

He tears it away from me and turns the page before I can move fast enough. Then he slams it down on the table loud enough to get the attention of the entire restaurant around us. His fist is covering most of the text, but the context is clear.

"They're saying he was a stripper that you paid to be your companion. That he infiltrated Atlanta's most prestigious and cutting-edge ballet companies by seducing and manipulating the owner, who felt sorry for him and gave him a chance to be a real dancer. There are photos of him passed out at the afterparty, and even photos of him falling and getting sick backstage. There are videos of it online. He looks sloppy drunk, and there are several members of the company that corroborate that they either saw him drinking or said he smelled of alcohol."

"But that's bullshit, and we can prove that Alistar is a slimy sack of shit."

"It doesn't matter, Dom. Cam's reputation is fucked if this shit goes viral, and it's picking up a lot of traction online." He snatches the paper from the table when the server comes by to drop off our coffees, waiting until she's gone to continue. "You can damn well gather that Hoyt and his people are going above and beyond with this news, but even that isn’t the biggest issue here. Cam is the one that's going to face all the repercussions for this, Dom. Not you. You're older, you're already established and successful in your field. There isn't much that could hurt you at this point. But Cam was just getting his footing in this world."

My shoulders slump. I didn't think of how being tied to me publicly might affect Cam. I knew I'd be taunted and talked about on national television. It's to be expected, and I'm ready to deal with that. But Cam doesn't deserve to have all this attention on him, not the way he's going to get. And even though I couldn't have anticipated Alistar starting a smear campaign to discredit him, I should have known that there would be negative backlash towards him directly.

"You're right," I say, defeated. "I only considered what the public backlash would look like for me."

"That kid has been kicked down over and over again since he was too young to understand that it wasn't his fault," Dwayne says, dropping his voice to a sympathetic tone. "He deserves, for once in his life, to be with someone who thinks of him first. If you're going to be that person, you need to figure out how to fix this. Because you can't protect him from himself if he lets garbage like this under his skin."

Dwayne sighs and takes a deep sip of his coffee. "I'll do anything for that kid, Dom. He might not be mine by blood, and I might not have been in his life for very long, but I know enough about him to know that he's a remarkable young man with a bright future ahead of him if someone just gives him a fucking break. I thought Emile was that guy. It looked good on the outside and meeting him coincided with a lot of the changes in his habits. We were wrong for giving him the credit for Cam's wellbeing, and for noticing his success while overlooking how unhappy he was. Cora is sick about it. I don't know that she'll ever forgive herself for not recognizing the signs that he was being mistreated the way he was. He's always been so headstrong, it's hard to imagine that anyone with that much personality and inner strength could ever be taken advantage of."

The server comes by again and drops a few plates on the table—Dwayne must have ordered our usuals. I stare down at my spinach and mushroom omelet and hash browns that I no longer have an appetite for.We eat in silence for a while, both of us mostly picking at our food.

"The detective working Cameron's case wants to come by and go over some of the video footage we gave him. I told him that he's most likely to be around the gym today, probably in the studio upstairs. Give this to Cameron." He slides a phone across the table. "The cell provider pulled all the contacts and recent history from his records, so he should have everything he needs to replace the old phone until we can get it back. I mentioned Cam's things when Detective Roman called looking for him, and he said it was best to keep our distance."

"He'll appreciate it," I say, feeling completely fucking useless and at a complete loss for how to fix this. "Our best bet is probably to lie low while the investigation is being completed. Once there's proof that these claims are bullshit, Cam can decide if he wants to go public with his story or just let it die out.” I pause and let out a deep sigh. “In the meantime, I'm trying to think if canceling the fight will help or hurt the situation." Cameron is the only person I’d ever consider giving up everything for.

"Canceling the fight would probably attract more negative media attention. What would help is if you knock his ass out and show him up for the worthless, bigoted piece of shit he is." Dwayne says. "Although I'm not gonna lie to you, I still wish you would back out. Whatever the consequences.”

My head snaps up from where I've been stabbing tiny holes in a mushroom with the tines of my fork. "What's that mean?"

"Look, I've tried to be transparent with my feelings while still helping you with this thing, but it's fucking scary, man. Did you realize you're the same age that he was? You made it out with your life and now you're tempting fate to feed your pride. You've never cared about your public image before. Why now?"

"I don't know, okay? I agreed to it in a moment of weakness that wasn't supposed to be seen by anyone else. And I'm tired of being weak. I'm tired of people looking at me with pity or thinking that just because I let things roll off my shoulders and don't bite back, that I'm someone they can ridicule and make an example of."

"So this is what, a midlife crisis??

"It's been a long time coming, Dwayne. Trista's bullshit was just the last straw. I got tired of it all. Tired of all the fake people. Fake friends, fake girlfriend, fake smiles, fake conversations, and faking like I don't want to punch the lights out of everyone who acts like I'm some dumb giant without a thought of my own. So maybe I thought this was my chance to go out on a high note."

"What, by dying!?" Dwayne says incredulously, once again loud enough to get the attention of the whole restaurant.

"Of course I didn't think about it like that, D. I'm not suicidal. I just wanted something to go out on, to make it all worth it before I left it behind."

"Left it behind for what?"

I huff a humorless laugh. "Fuck if I know. Maybe come back here and train boxers with you? I thought I'd prove myself with the fight, and then maybe you'd take me on and we could expand—make it a real Connor Brother's gym. Or something, I don't know."

"Dom. You’ve never had to prove shit to me. You're my brother. From day one, when it was just an idea that dad liked to daydream about, it was always both of us." He pauses, swallowing heavily. "It was supposed to be the three of us." He sniffs back tears and rolls his shoulders. "Don't you fucking leave me too, damnit. Don't let pride take you from me the way it took him."

"It's not about me anymore."

We head back to the gym early after that, both too emotionally exhausted to say much on the way. We leave our plates full of uneaten food and throw some bills on the table and walk out, needing the fresh air and a brisk walk to work out some of these nerves at what comes next. I just want to get back to Cameron and find a way to assure him that it's going to be alright. I'll fix this, one way or another.

There's a larger number of guys working out in the gym than usual at this time of day on a weekday. When they see us walk in, they stop what they're doing and form a group behind Dwayne's manager, Tyler.

"What's with all this?" Dwayne asks. I'm tense, assuming they're going to have something to say about the article that was published. I have a bad feeling that this is going to hurt Dwayne's business, too.

"I dunno. They were all here waiting outside when I opened the doors this morning."

"We wanted to talk to you," Jacob says, stepping away from the group. "About the article in the paper, and the shit all over social media."

Here it comes.

"We have a group chat," Jacob explains. "Riley saw some of the pictures being shared first, and then shit blew up fast."

Dwayne nods. "Look, I know this is a mess. We're dealing with it as best we can, but if you're not comfortable being associated with Connor Bro's gym, I'll allow anyone to terminate their contracts without?—"

"That's not it," Marcus calls out, stopping Dwayne before he can say more.

"Yeah, no. We're here to back you up," Jacob agrees. He looks at me. "We don't know you like we know Dwayne, but he's the most genuine guy anyone's ever met. You've only been here for a few months, but you've helped me improve as a boxer just by sparring and watching you. You're always willing to step back and show us how to tighten up our form, or how to throw a more effective punch. You can't get that kind of education anywhere else, but it's more than that, too. You were willing to step back and try something new in front of all of us. And I'm not the only one that has benefitted by having Cameron be part of this gym. He's a good guy, and the stuff they're saying about the two of you is bullshit."

"Well…" I don't really know how to break it to them that not all of it is lies. Hopefully, they'll still be willing to stand by us if there is some truth to the rumors. "Maybe I should go get Cameron," I say to myself. We've still yet to put a label on this thing between us, and he might not feel comfortable doing so publicly now that there's so much attention on us.

"Dude. Not that part. That part's obviously true."

The guys around us snicker.

"Obviously?" I mutter to myself.

"Yeeaahhh… Heart eyes on a six-foot-four, two hundred and sixty pound, normally stoic beast of a man kind of stands out."

"Two-forty," I correct. Rude.

"That and you're always staring at his ass," Tyler throws in.

"Not that you can blame him, though. For a dude, he's got?—"

"Watch it," I warn, and they all snicker some more.

"Aright, alright—back to work. But… thank you."

"I've been coming here since I was sixteen years old," Tyler says, patting Dwayne on the shoulder. "I'm not about to let some attention-seeking assholes with so-called anonymous sources to trash this place or anyone connected to it. If you need anything, we'll be here to back you up."

"It means a lot," Dwayne says, ducking his head.

I take Tyler’s hand and then pull him into a half hug, which isn't really my thing, but the moment certainly calls for it. "Really appreciate it, man."

"I hope y'all stick around after you kick Bo Hoyt's ass. I might be interested in trying out the ballet training if y'all make it a thing here."

"We'll pitch it to Cam," I say, looking towards the stairs longingly. I pause before I can take my first step in the direction I've been pulled in since we walked in the door. "Do I really have heart eyes?" I ask my brother.

"You know, now that I think about it, you have been unsettlingly smiley and chatty the past couple months." He shakes his head. "Shit, I even mentioned to Cora that Cam seemed to bring you out of your shell. How did I fucking miss it?"

"When he gets here, maybe you can ask the detective how to be more observant in the future," I say, hoping it's not too soon to start making jokes.

"Dad taught me how to box, too, ya know."

"Bring it, old man."

As if summoned, the same guy from the police station that interviewed Cam walks in.

"Detective Roman!" I call out, as Dwayne struggles to pull out of the headlock I have him in. "We were just talking about you."

The detective makes a face like he isn't sure what to think of the commotion he walked into. And since he's here to discuss potential assault charges, and also likely saw the news being spread about Cam's reputation, it probably looks a little unseemly to be playing around like this. Now that I think about it, it's actually really inappropriate to be feeling so optimistic when Cam might not even know about the news articles.

Shit.

I drop Dwayne and step up to give Roman a handshake. "Sorry about that. You're here to see Cameron, not witness us act like jackasses. I'll show you up." Dwayne offers him a handshake as well and turns to lead the way towards the stairs.

"Uh, boss?" Tyler says. "If that's the detective, who are the other guys?"

"Other guys?" my brother asks.

"Yeah, I kind of assumed the guy in the suit was the detective. The other two said they were friends. I thought maybe they were working on some kind of testimony or something. I didn't ask questions?—"

I don't hear most of what he says, I'm already halfway up the stairs before he finishes his sentence. Dwayne and the detective aren't far behind me.

If I'm right, whoever is upstairs is no friend of Cam's.