Page 68 of The C*ck Down the Block

“What’s your statement, Chris?”

Everett jogged over, phone that he shouldn’t have in hand, his face a mask of disbelief. “Dude, you’re trending. There’s some kind of video of you making rounds, and it’s not a good one.”

“What video?” Pro sports came with fame money, and that came temptation for a lot of guys that didn’t know what to do with it. But our family and the ingrained value to be a good fucking human had thus far safeguarded me and the other guys from shit like this. “I didn’t do anything that warrants this kind of shit.”

Everett shook his head. “I don’t know, but you need to check this out.”

Deck and Hayes hurried over and the four of us looked at the screen. I grabbed Ev’s phone and tried to make sense of the social media buzz. There it was, a trending hashtag with my name and the word ‘scandal’ next to it. But the video link was already taken down, only reactions to it left. People speculating, some condemning, a few defending. But no one fucking saying what was actually in the god-damned video.

My guts twist into a tight ball, weighing me down.Hands shaking, and I was a fucking professional quarterback, my hands didn’t shake for nothing, I tried calling Trixie. I had a really bad feeling about this.

Voicemail. I tried again. Still voicemail. My mind went to dark places, imagining the worst. She had to be okay. She just had to be.

“Kingman,” Coach shouted. All four of us looked up. “Not you lot, the other Kingman. Quarterback Kingman. Fuck, I’m gonna start calling you KingThing One through Four. Jesus. Get your fucking social life off my god-damned field. This isn’t the fucking Ice Capades. This is a fucking professional football team and I expect you to be fucking professionals.”

The more fucks coach said, the more sprints we were going to get later.

“Let’s get back to practice,” Everett said, but his tone was different now—tinged with worry.

“Right.” I sent a quick message to Maguire to find out what was going on and get his ass down to the field, then I handed Everett his phone back, my eyes meeting his. “I don’t like this, and whatever it is, isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

Everett clapped a hand on my shoulder, the unspoken bond between brothers strong in that moment. We jogged back to the team, my physical presence there but my mind somewhere else entirely—filled with concern, rage, and a building sense of reckoning.

I took my position, my grip on the football a little too tight. But as I hurled it down the field, I knew it wasn’t just a ball I was throwing, but a gauntlet.

Just as I was taking a breath, trying to center myself, Maguire rushed onto the field. Wearing his usual tailored suit, he looked wildly out of place among the jerseys and turf. Behind him was Johnston Manniway, his face set in a grim line. Shit. If he was here, this was worse than I thought. Johnston stopped to talk to Coach, and the two of them joined us. Coach’s left eye was already twitching.

“Chris,” Maguire said, urgently pulling me into the circle of men, “we need to talk. Now.”

His intensity made it clear this wasn’t a request but a demand. I looked around the field and caught the eyes of Declan, Everett, and Hayes, and gave them a quick wave to come and join us.

“Is this about the video?” I asked, not missing a beat. “What is it?”

Johnston stepped in, his voice calm but concerned. “We’re gonna get you through this.”

I looked from one to the other, the weight of the situation crashing down on me. My brothers joined the circle and closed it up. They didn’t need to say anything, they just filled in the gaps in my armor.

Maguire pulled out his phone, showing us all screenshots of the trending topic and the comments coming in fast and furious. Those screenshots had been taken from the video, and the bitter taste of bile rose up the back of my throat. “It’s bad, man. It’s a sex tape, and it’s very clearly you and Trixie.”

This wasn’t just a game anymore. My personal life had infiltrated my career, and the two were spiraling out of control.

“We need to act quickly.” He closed the screen and started typing something furiously. “We’ll get your statement together, see if we can do some damage control.”

“What about Trixie? I can’t get a hold of her. Have you tried contacting her?” My voice rose, tinged with desperation.

Maguire shook his head. “We’ll get to that. But right now, you’re the story. If we keep the focus on you and not her, she’ll fade into the background and that will keep her safe. We need to manage this before it derails everything.”

I expected Maguire to be solely focused on me and my career and how it would affect both of our financial futures. The fact that he was thinking not just about Trixie, but how to keep her out of the spotlight, was the only bit of relief I had.

Johnston placed a hand on my shoulder. “Look, kid, I’ve seen scandals come and go. How you handle it defines you. You’re a good man. Let’s not forget that.”

My brothers murmured their agreement. I nodded, the gravity of their words grounding me. Was that me in the tape? Yeah. Did I think I did anything wrong? No.

Did I have an idea who the culprit was. Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Okay,” I finally said. “Let’s do damage control. Johnston, can you call Marie? Trixie’s going to need all the friends we’ve got. She fucking hates the spotlight and she’s going to be freaking out.”

Where was she? Was she okay? A knot of worry tightened in my gut, even as I braced for the media storm ahead.

---