Page 86 of Off Balance

"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 theowner, 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 mentionedCam'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 realConnor Brother'sgym. 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 ofuneaten 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.

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