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Wise beyond his years.
An unbelievable hockey player.
So much fun to be around.
That was Hayes.
At least, he used to be all of those things before he began his love affair with oxycodone.
Ryan assured himself that it would be fine. Hayes was just…going through a rough time. Clearly he was struggling with his past, the unrelenting demands of being in the NHL, the pressure of trying to keep their floundering relationship afloat. It was a lot for anyone, let alone a 21-year-old kid to handle; maybe Ryan just needed to be more understanding of that.
Or maybe Ryan was just making excuses because he had no idea how to manage the fact that he was in a relationship with a drug addict who was currently racing head first down an incredibly dangerous path.
Handling life’s curve balls had never been Ryan Baylor’s strong suit, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he fought to ignore the familiar feeling of his anxiety beginning to creep up on him.
However, there was no time for it to set up shop, because no sooner than he heard yelling coming from the beach, he looked up and saw his boyfriend arguing with a police officer while another one had a shirtless, soaking wet and sand-covered TK in handcuffs.
“Shit!”
He flew off the bench and jogged onto the beach, slowing down and hanging back as he approached the scene, so as not to give the cops any reason to panic.
“Yo, come on! I had him! I fuckin’ had him and I was gettin’ him outta here!” Hayes screamed. “Come on, man. You don’t have to do this!”
Ryan, with his hands up, slowly moved over to his boyfriend and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hayes, you need to calm down, OK?” he told him. “What’s going on, officers?”
“They’re arrestin’ him for public intoxication! It’s fuckin’ bullshit! I can get him outta here. Just let him come home with me, with us. Please? You really don’t have to do this!” Hayes pleaded desperately.
“Listen, he’s coming with us. He’s clearly wasted, he smells like vomit, and he can hardly stand up. And unless you wanna join him for disturbing the peace, I suggest you calm down like your friend said. You understand me, son?”
“I ain’t your fuckin’ son, bitch! And fine, you wanna arrest me, too? Here!” Hayes flipped around so his back was to the officers and clasped his hands behind him. “Fuckin’ do it then!”
“Tyler, enough!” Ryan yelled, grabbing him by the wrist and turning him back around. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Don’t let ‘em take me, Ty!” TK whimpered, slumping over. “I can’t have another misdemeanor on my record, man. Please?”
Ryan, betraying every fiber of his being, turned toward the officer who didn’t have TK detained. “Can I please talk to you for a second?” He figured it was a long shot, but at this point, there didn’t seem to be another choice. He gestured to the right. “Over there. Please?”
The officer rolled his eyes, nodded, and he and Ryan stepped about 10 feet away.
“Thanks. Listen, the mouth is my…he’s my boyfriend, and the other fucking idiot is his friend. We came looking for him because he missed a flight back to New York this morning. I assure you I am completely sober and can drive them both safely to a hotel so they can rest. They both…Jesus,” Ryan muttered, unable to believe that this was his actual life right now. “They’re both addicts, and I’m currently in the process of figuring out how to get them some help, once I stop denying to myself that there’s an issue.”
“Kid, sometimes an arrest is the help they need. Kickstarts the process, gives ‘em a good reality check, you know?” the officer replied.
“I understand that. But I swear to God, if you turn them over to me, this will be the end of it, OK? You will never see them again. And hey, no hours of paperwork for you and your partner to fill out, no bullshit court appearances. It’s a win-win. Please?”
“Your boyfriend’s got quite the mouth on him.”
Ryan smirked at the officer’s observation, though there was nothing even remotely funny about what was taking place at the moment. “You have no idea. But I promise you he’s all bark. Please? I’ll handle this, officer. I swear. Let me get them the hell outta here.” He stuck out his hand to shake it. “I’m Ryan, by the way. My boyfriend is Tyler, and the other…moron is Travis.”
The officer gave him a quick handshake and tilted his head toward where they stood. “Let me see what I can do, OK? I can’t promise anything though. My partner really likes locking up junkies.”
“Either way, I sincerely appreciate your time.”
They walked back to where Hayes and TK were standing with the other officer, TK sobbing so pathetically that snot was flying out of his face. He was still cuffed and Hayes was pleading incessantly with the officer to let him go, as a small crowd had begun to gather.
The cop Ryan had been talking to leaned in to his partner and whispered something into his ear. His partner immediately shook his head, but he kept on whispering. This went on for about 20 seconds, until finally, the arresting officer made a face and removed the cuffs from TK’s wrists. “It’s your lucky day, kid.”
TK fell forward into Hayes’s arms, almost knocking him backward, and squeezed the life outta him.
