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“One of the male escorts striped down. Someone put a line of coke on the escort’s dick and then dared Matty to snort it.”
Oh fuck, I thought.
“Matty isn’t one to resist a dare, so he does it. But does he stop there?”
My stomach dropped. “I’m guessing not.”
“Correcto. He starts sucking the escort’s cock in front of all of us. Put on quite the show, too.”
Filipe paused there, which was a good thing because I needed a minute to settle my thoughts. It was a lot to take in.
Matty said, “I have no memory of any of this, Ciaran. That’s why I suggested they tell you.”
“So Coach Anderson saw you do that and that’s why he’s blackmailing you?” I asked. “It would be his word against yours.”
“There’s more,” was all Matty said and my anxiety spiked as Filipe continued.
“The sonofabitch filmed Matty snorting the cocaine and sucking the escort’s dick. The next day, Coach pulled Matty into his office, showed him the video on his phone, and crafted the blackmailing deal to fake date his daughter, or else he’ll tell USA Swimming.”
“Jesus,” I breathed out. I looked out the window and saw signs for the La Brea Tar Pits and Museum. “What a douche bag.” I let the information sink in. Joan turned down another slim road that led to the back entrances to multiple buildings. “So that’s why you’re dating Zoey. How long is the agreement for?”
“Until the swim trials at the end of June.”
That was weeks away. Despair crawled into my mind but I wasn’t about to give up.
I turned to Matty. “I am so sorry that you’ve been dealing with this, Matty. I know it’s not easy when an authority figure takes advantage of you like that. We’ll figure a way out of this, okay? I promise.”
Then, before I could say more or before Matty could respond, Joan came to a stop. “We’re here.”
36
MATTHIAS
Ciaran’s optimism was wholesome and I wished there was a way I could borrow such a feeling. I’d been living with the knowledge that I was capable of snorting cocaine off an escort’s erect cock and having no memory of it. Might as well throw me in a pornographic film. I suppose the silver lining was that I was trying to be better. It sounded strange to think this, but I’d probably still be a mess if the blackmail hadn’t happened.
Having Ciaran in my life was already an improvement. When he squeezed my hand, I had no idea that I needed his reassurances so badly. If someone like Ciaran was in my corner, was life so bad?
The bad news was that my swimming was getting worse, so it wasn’t like I was benefitting from Coach Anderson’s so-called mentorship.
“We’re here,” Joan announced as she parked in an unlit back alley near one of the foreign embassy offices.
To Ciaran, I said, “Thanks for having my back. I’m sure hearing that about me was somewhat shocking.”
“I grew up in a place called Sin City, Matty. It’s called that for a reason. My mom was a showgirl. I spent my childhood backstage around performers. They weren’t the issue. The patrons were. I’ve seen people do all sort of things that’d turn your hair white.” He grinned. “Now, if you were my boyfriend and snorted cocaine off someone else’s dick, we’d have words. I’m shocked and angry at Coach Anderson for manipulating the situation to his advantage, but I’m not mad at you.”
“Have we mentioned how much we like you, Ciaran?” Joan said as she texted her contact inside the embassy.
“Kinda wish you’d come along sooner, my dude,” Filipe added, “but then it might be weird if you two grew up like brothers. It’d make the kissing part harder to accept.”
“Thanks for that mental image, Filipe,” I mumbled. He wasn’t wrong, though. There would be plenty of people who’d question my desire for Ciaran. Up until that point, I hadn’t considered how my older brother, Dante, might react. I pushed that concern away. “So, what’s the plan?” I asked to get us back on track. I’d been more focused on Ciaran the last several days so I wasn’t exactly present when Joan discussed the situation with me and Filipe earlier.
“I just texted my contact who said they will open the garage.” She pointed halfway down the alley and I saw the black gates. We’d never been to this consulate before, so I felt a little nervous. “They’re supposed to disable the cameras. We’ll go inside and have a small chat in the garage. If they like what they see, they’ll take the statue off our hands.”
“What will they give you?” Ciaran asked.
Joan’s phone dinged and she started pulling forward just as the black gate lifted up with a metallic shriek.
“That remains to be seen,” Filipe answered vaguely, which I appreciated. I trusted Ciaran—I think we all did by this point—but I didn’t want him to know everything just in case things went to shit. I wanted him to have plausible deniability if we were detained by the police.
