I can hardly believe it. Not just the fact that Spencer hurt this many people—that part is incredibly believable—but that women are bravely coming forward. There are written stories and videos of women describing their interactions with him. It’s a treasure trove of shitty behavior and comeuppance.
“Jesus…” I breathe.
“That’s who Spencer is gonna need if he wants to stay out of jail.” Kennedy snorts. “Even still, I think the Big Guy would be on our side. We got him, Callie. There’s enough here to take him and his Richy Rich daddy down.”
Panic claws up my throat. “They’ll come for you, Kenny. He has the video. And they’re so rich.”
“Well, so far, the page is anonymous. Yes, I made that drunken post about him, but I took it down after my DMs exploded. He probably didn’t even see it. And as for the web page, my name isn’t on it. Even if it was—even if they figure out who created it—what would they do, Callie? Look at how many women are standing up against him. These women are ready to go to court with their stories. And withyourstory, I don’t think he’s going to have a fighting chance.”
My attention snaps over to her, nearly giving me whiplash.
But Kennedy grabs my hand. “I know it’s a lot. I mean, shit, Owenjustfound out. And if I had to guess, that wasn’t a walk in the tulips. If you’re not ready to come forward against Spencer, that’s okay. But when you are, I’ll pull the trigger and throw my name and face out there, too. We do it together, Callie. And behind us is an army of women ready to rip the Santos men to shreds.”
I don’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, it’s amazing. On the other, I am terrified.
Either way, I can’t believe she did this. I blink back tears and pull Kennedy into a hug. “I love you.”
“And I love you!” She squeezes me back.
I slowly pull away, taking a deep breath. “But I don’t know if I’m ready.” She opens her mouth, but I charge ahead. “Not because I don’t want to make him pay. But because whatever is going on, it’s big. I want facts. I don’t want to jump the gun. I want proof that will, without a doubt, bury him alive.”
I want to make sure that when we slam the pile of statements on the lawyer’s desk, it’s tall enough to scrape the goddamned ceiling.
I’m worried Kennedy will be upset with me. She’s decisive, an action-taker. When she is motivated, she doesn’t slow down.
But her face twists into a smile that should scare Spencer to his very core. “I like the way you think.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Spencer Santos should say some extra prayers tonight.” She scrolls through the site again, biting back a laugh. “Because he is so unbelievably fucked.”
43
CALLIE
Spencer has been suspended.
I’m not going to lie. At first, when I saw JusticeforSantosVictims.com, I was nervous. Spencer has retaliated a lot more harshly for a whole hell of a lot less. There was no telling what he’d do or how he might react.
But even more than that, I was paranoid about what his dad would do. If Spencer is a monster, Rodger is the devil himself.
Then I stopped and considered the things I most wanted to protect. The list, as I saw it, was: my baby, Owen, Kennedy, and all of our jobs and reputations.
And the harsh truth was, most of those things were already dead in the water.
Owen has attacked two of his teammates this season, and I’ve been caught in compromising positions with both of them. Our jobs are hanging on by threads as it is and that’s not going to change by keeping our mouths shut.
Kennedy doesn’t give a flying fuck what Spencer threatens to do. Not even a certain uncensored video can be held over her head. If it leaked now, it would hurt him more than her. So with that threat no longer boiling over on the burner, there’s only one thing on my list that matters.
My baby.
After I left Kennedy’s that night, I went back to my apartment and crawled into bed with Owen. He kissed my hair and pressed a protective hand to my stomach, and, in that moment, I knew nothing would ever harm our baby. Even if we had a fight, even if we were both hurt and our lives were dumped upside down, we couldn’t be truly shaken. Not anymore.
Whatever was coming around the corner, I was ready for it.
And around that corner was Spencer Santos officially being suspended. Not just from the team, but from the Scythes arena as a whole. For the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe. Uncle Randy apologized profusely to both Owen and me and gave me paid leave so I could relax and recover from what turned out to be nothing more than Braxton Hicks, but no one else knows that.
Part of me didn’t want to take it. Uncle Randy didn’t know who Spencer was to me because I didn’t tell him. I’m the one who lied. But after the explosion that has been my life the last few weeks—months, really, if I’m being brutally honest with myself—I needed the downtime. Bad.