Dearest Series Boxed Set

by Lex Martin

  My shoulders slump. “Fine. Fuck it. Let’s go.”

  Jax’s friends meet up with us on Boylston Street, and Jax grumbles, “I can’t believe this is the place the guys picked.”

  “Why? Are we going to get tetanus from their needles or something?”

  He shakes his head and groans. “I wish.”

  We walk in, and I’m relieved to see such a spotless parlor. It’s a beautiful setup, actually. Exposed brick walls, two rows of black leather chairs, framed artwork everywhere.

  A tatted-up guy walks up to us and motions to Jax. “You gonna let me ink you up, man?” Then he laughs.

  “Fuck, no. I’m not an idiot.” Jax turns to me. “Here, you can do Sloan.”

  I look back and forth between them, a little more than certain that they hate each other. “Bro, you’re freaking me out,” I tell Jax.

  “Brady might be an asshole, but he’s a great artist. I promise you’ll be happy with his work.” Then Jax smacks me on the back and walks off to talk to his friends.

  Brady shrugs. “I’m old friends with his girlfriend Dani.”

  “You mean fiancée.”

  “Whatever.” He sighs and runs his hands through his black hair. “We doing this or what? You have some idea of what you want?”

  I check out the lines that snake up both of his arms. The guy has some really nice pieces, which assuages my anxiety.

  Nodding, I describe what I’m looking for, and he motions for me to grab a seat while he sketches the design.

  Two hours and three beers later, I’m still not sure how to get Maddie back. This might be the dumbest thing I’ve done yet, but I’m hoping the effort counts for something.

  The next morning, I’m so grateful I don’t have to haul my ass to an early practice I could cry. My mouth is pasty, and my eyes are glued together. I groan and try to sit up.

  “Want some coffee?” a female voice calls out.

  What the fuck? My heart starts to thud in my chest. In a panic, I look around and realize I’ve been passed out on Jax’s couch. And that voice must be Dani’s.

  Thank you, Lord. Because I really can’t deal with another girl trying to break into my place. I take a deep breath to calm down. “Yeah, thanks, Dani.”

  Dropping onto one of the bar chairs, I gratefully take the coffee. I smile at Dani, but her mouth twists into a frown.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her frown deepens. “I might not be the best person to tell you this.”

  I lean forward. “Tell me what?”

  “You’re going to be upset. Jax said he’d be right back. He went to grab some bagels. He really should be the one to tell you.”

  “Dude, you’re seriously freaking the fuck out of me.”

  She chuckles and then frowns again. “Okay, but don’t shoot the messenger. Promise?”

  I nod, about to pass out from holding my breath.

  She motions back toward the living room, and I follow her. “You should sit down first.”

  I comply, hoping to hell she gets to the point soon. Then she turns on the TV.

  “What are we looking for?”

  “It’s everywhere. I won’t have to look too far.”

  Click. Click. Click.

  And then she stops on some celebrity gossip show. The word “scandal” is emblazoned in red letters.

  Dani looks at me warily. “Maybe we should start with the video first. This will all make more sense if we start there. But the video isn't on television." After switching to the internet, she glances at me a second before her eyes dart away. "You know. Because of legal reasons."

  No, I don't know.

  My skin is crawling as I wait for her to play the damn thing already.

  She clicks around and finally ends up on some file sharing website.

  The video is grainy. Like something off a phone. It shows a couple on a bed. Some naked guy is straddling a girl’s chest. He sounds like he’s enjoying a blow job. The dude is ripped and tatted up. Suddenly, I recognize the ink.

  “Holy shit. That’s Jacob. Maddie’s ex.”

  Dani nods slowly, a sad expression in her eyes like I’m not understanding the images in front of me.

  A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. His ass is blurred, and so are parts of the woman’s body. But then, for a split second, you see her profile when he leans back.

  “What the fuck?” I’m going to be sick. “That’s not… That can’t be.”

  When the video ends, Dani clicks back to the celebrity gossip TV show.

  A sleazeball reporter says, “In case you missed it, let me catch you up. Files leaked off of WNEN in Boston late last night that has the whole city talking. During a network restructuring, a pornographic video popped up in their dropbox for advertising clients, who occasionally use the studios to film. We can’t show you the video for a number of legal reasons, but the scandal has rocked the news station. Many speculate the video features MMA fighter Jacob 'The Killer' Callahan due to his recognizable tattoos. Just last weekend, he was featured in WNEN's bachelor contest."

  The camera cuts to footage of Jacob leaning in to kiss Maddie when she introduced him at the gala. "After this sweet moment between the notoriously tough Callahan and WNEN reporter Maddie McDermott on Saturday night, his fans are all wondering if this is the mystery woman in the video. McDermott told the audience she grew up in South Boston, which is where Callahan grew up. Sources tell us the two dated for almost a year and have recently grown cozy again, pointing to the footage as evidence they’re back together.”

  My vision blurs, and I lean forward to press my palms into my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Daren.” Dani sits next to me and gingerly rubs my back. “Take a deep breath.”

  “I don’t believe it. She hates him. That can’t be recent video. And who the hell took it? Maddie would never agree to be taped.”

  But then I think about the jokes we made about having Skype sex while I was on the road. Would she agree to be filmed for this asshole? I feel like my world just got kicked off its axis.

  The douchebag on TV starts talking again. “We were just admiring her new haircut, which might mean the footage is as recent as a few days ago.” They show the video again, commenting on the woman’s length of hair and how similar it looks to Maddie’s.

  I stalk off to the bathroom where last night’s beer comes rushing out.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  After the tattoo I just got, this serves me right.

  Forty-Six

  - Maddie -

  How do you know your life is about to fall apart?

  For me, it started at Dunkin’ Donuts. The girl across the counter had just handed me the large coffee when a guy tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was really the chick in the video. When I asked what he was talking about, the ten people in line behind us all whipped out their phones in a race to show me.

  There I stood, mouth agape, coffee dripping down my arm as I realized I was looking at the video I took of Jacob getting deepthroated last summer. The same video I deleted months ago.

  But it wasn’t until some jerk leaned toward me and asked if I do that for all of my boyfriends that I realized he thought I was the girl in the video.

  At which point the coffee slipped out of my hand and crashed on the floor, splattering everyone.

  I flinch as Roger taps his desk, shaking me from my thoughts. “How did this happen?” he asks, looking pissed to be having this conversation.

  I open my mouth—to say what, I’m not sure—when Spencer answers. “We’re not sure, Roger. I’m on it, though.” I didn’t even realize he was in the room.

  “You sure as hell had better be on it. Because the last time I checked, hacking into someone’s phone was a federal offense.”

  Spencer scoffs. “Assuming what Maddie said was true.”

  Roger glares at him. “I think Maddie has been perfectly upfront here. She disclosed her past relationship with Jacob in detail. I think we can trust her side of the s
tory. Because I seriously doubt she would upload a self-condemning video to our servers.” With a pained expression, Roger turns to me. “Is there anything else I need to know? Anything at all?”

  After a moment, I shake my head. Because now is probably not the time to tell him I’ve been having an affair with Daren for the last four months.

  My stomach turns over, and I cover my mouth, willing myself to not vomit.

  A knock on the door has the three of us looking up at two men in expensive suits. “Risk management. We’re here from the legal department.”

  Susan the secretary pokes in her head a second later. “Boss, the phone lines are flooded. Everyone from CNN to MSNBC wants to know when we’ll have a statement.”

  He waves her off. “The vultures aren’t going anywhere. They can wait.” Roger rubs his five o’clock shadow. “Maddie, do you have an attorney you can call?”

  Oh, God. “I… I don’t know.”

  “Really, Roger?” the risk management guy asks.

  Roger points back at him. “Don’t act like you’re not ready to ruin this girl’s career over some stupid viral footage. People are starving in the streets every day, politicians take payoffs like I pop my vitamins, and the only thing you care about is this fucking video.” He slams his desk drawer shut. “The truth here is we shouldn’t give a shit who is in this video. We shouldn’t be spending the resources of our newsroom on this story because it’s not a goddamn news story!”

  Whoa. My eyes tear up as I realize he’s on my side.

  “Maddie,” Roger says like a sigh, “find an attorney. Call someone. You shouldn’t go in with those guys without one. I know your side of things. That’s enough for today. Think you can get someone lined up for tomorrow?”

  I nod even though I have no clue where to start.

  On my way out to my car, I’m swarmed by reporters who scream in my face.

  “Maddie, when did you do that video?”

  “How long have you and Jacob been dating?”

  “Were you together the night of the bachelor contest?”

  Finally, I can’t stand it, and I stop to address the cameras. “I am unequivocally not the girl in the video. Jacob and I broke up in May, and aside from the bachelor contest promo shoots and the event itself, I haven’t spoken to him since.”

  I begin to push my way through the crowd, and they keep barraging me with questions.

  It isn’t until I’m parked in South Boston that I break down and cry.

  I’m lying prone on the twin bed in the spare bedroom at my uncle’s house. The tears stopped a little while ago, but only because numbness set in.

  I stare at my crap from high school, wishing my uncle Patrick hadn't gone to such lengths to help me settle in here after my dad died. I never had the heart to tell Patrick how my posters and photos and yearbooks all just reminded me of my father and made the pain worse.

  Jesus. What would my dad say about this? How horrified would he be right now?

  Burrowing into the cotton pillowcase, I close my eyes and try to block out thinking about my father. But being surrounded by all of my shit from high school makes it tough.

  “Maddie, honey, are you okay?” My uncle pokes his head through my door. Nodding, I wipe away the wetness on my face. He shuffles uncomfortably, his hands in his pockets. “Can I bring you something to eat? Maybe some soup?”

  I give him a weak smile and agree even though I’m not sure I can hold anything down. But if I don’t accept it, Patrick will worry. The door closes, and I close my eyes.

  Patrick is only eight years older than I am, so he’s more like a distant older brother than uncle, but he’s always been here for me. My swan dive of public humiliation has to be hard for him. But he hasn’t said much. Just that he loves me and knows I’ll get through this.

  Crashing at his house was my only option. I haven’t stayed here in years, not for any extended period of time. I never wanted to be a burden—not that my uncle ever made me feel that way, but he did so much for me growing up, and I never wanted to take advantage of his kindness.

  The low murmur of the TV in the other room is a constant reminder of what I face if I try to head back to Sheri’s.

  My eyes are swollen, and I feel so helpless. Tears burn in my eyes. I need to tell Daren the truth. He needs to hear it directly from me that I’m not the girl in that video. I know we’re not together anymore, but I want to tell him I would never do that to him.

  But that video looks so bad. That girl looks like me. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. I hope he knows that looks can be deceiving.

  All at once, I can barely breathe.

  Oh my God.

  Is this what he was trying to tell me? I never gave him a chance to explain because I was hell-bent on protecting myself. But what if I was wrong? What if there was an explanation for how that girl got his t-shirt? He’s never given me any reason to doubt his sincerity or honesty before.

  Do I really think he cheated on me? Could he treat me the way Jacob treated me?

  Nausea roils in my stomach, and bitterness crawls up the back of my throat.

  No. I don’t.

  Cursing from the other room makes me lift my head. My uncle’s voice echoes down the hall. “Maddie! You need to see something! Get out here! Oh, shit.”

  Ugh, I can’t take much more of this.

  Lifting myself off the bed is difficult, my body feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds. Sluggishly, I walk toward the living room of my uncle’s humble two-bedroom house.

  When I round the corner, I see my uncle on the couch, his hand over his face. I’m about to ask what’s wrong when I look up at his flatscreen and my worst nightmare comes true. Bile pushes up the back of my throat, and I cover my mouth.

  Because the girl in these images having sex with Daren? That one is me.

  Forty-Seven

  - Daren -

  After I unlace my cleats, I slump back and watch everyone move through the locker room. Several of the guys are watching something on a cell phone in the corner, and I’m hoping like hell they’re not leering at Maddie.

  Every news station is reporting the video with her ex was recent, but I can’t bring myself to buy that story. She hates Jacob. I mean, doesn’t she?

  For once in my life, I feel paralyzed. Fuck, is she going to lose her job over that footage?

  I scrub my face, three days’ worth of stubble scratching my palms. Someone sits next to me, and I turn to find Brentwood leaning back against the locker.

  I’m pretty sure the guy hates me, but for once, he looks sympathetic. “How is your girl taking this?”

  “My girl?”

  “Yeah. Maddie.”

  I start to shake my head, and Brentwood laughs. “Dude, don’t even fucking deny you’re together. I’ve watched you turn down chick after chick on the road for the last several months. Girls with sky-high tits and asses that wouldn’t quit. So I figured you were with someone. And the way Maddie looks at you, any idiot with a pair of eyes can see she’s in love with you.”

  A flicker of something in my chest lights. Hope, maybe? Why his words make me feel better, I’m not sure. Because I’m almost certain Maddie hates me right now.

  He lifts his chin. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. In fact, you’re exactly the kind of guy I want to take over my team at the end of the season when I retire.”

  It takes me a full minute to process what he just said. “What? When did you decide to retire?”

  “When I got my fourth concussion last fall.”

  “I thought you were fully recovered.”

  “Man, it only takes one good hit, and I’m done. Dead in the ground. No, thanks. I’d rather spend the next fifty years with my wife and kids, getting fat on beer and brats and talking about the good old days. I’ve had a great career, and this season looks like it might end on a high note, thanks to you. I know I haven’t praised you, but it’s been harder than I thought to give up my team. So just get through this media
bullshit. That’s all it is. I see it every season. But I also know you’re above it. You’re always keeping your nose clean. Use those instincts now. They haven’t let you down so far.” He gives me a hard slap on my back that nearly knocks the wind out of me and takes off.

  Fucking hell. I don’t know what to do with the bombshell he just dropped in my lap.

  The team is mine if I can keep my shit together. But does football mean jack without Maddie in my life?

  Not really.

  My instincts. What do my instincts tell me?

  That there is no way Maddie cheated on me. That even after our argument, she’d never run off to fuck Jacob. She hates him.

  A roar of commotion kicks up from the corner, and I look up to find half of my team staring at me.

  “What?”

  Nothing. No response.

  “Seriously, tell me why the fuck you’re staring at me. I’ve had a godawful week.”

  “Dude, don’t kill the messenger,” Quentin says.

  Fuck me. I’ve heard that before. “Just spit it out.”

  “Well, I think we’re all really interested in your sex moves, man. That thing you do with her on her back…”

  “You’re speaking a fucking foreign language right now.”

  Quentin ambles over and hands me his phone and then reaches over to scroll through a dozen images. Of Maddie and me. On my couch. Fucking.

  “What the hell is this?” My fingers grip the device.

  He clears his throat. “Gifs. You know, compressed graphics. They're like mini movies a couple of seconds long."

  "I know what gifs are, asshole. That's not what I mean."

  He clears his throat. "I don’t know how to tell you, but there are like five different series of you guys. The story just broke. Apparently that one of her and her ex wasn’t the only thing that landed on the station’s server. These just got posted on some file-sharing website.”

  “Show me the rest.” I need to know how far this goes.

  They’re shot in her bedroom, on my couch, one in the recliner, and one on the floor.