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—Holly—
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“Holly! Get your ass down here, girl!” Dad yelled out later that night.
“Why?” I shouted from my room on the floor above. “I’m in bed!”
In bed, mildly hungover from day drinking and feeling all-around average.
“Isaiah's on the Trudy Kallant Show!”
“What?” I exclaimed, flipping the blankets back then running down the stairs as fast as I dared. “You’re kidding!”
Dad pointed his beer at the TV. “Not kiddin’.” He tapped the couch beside him. “Come sit. Let’s see how much of a shit-show this is gonna be.”
I nervously adjusted my messy bun as I sat next to Dad and tucked my feet under my butt. “What’s the topic?” Trudy Kallant was known for her scandalous and whistle-blowing shows. Dirty laundry got aired on her shows, and the fact that Isaiah was the guest tonight had me panicking like a deer in the headlights.
Dad hummed while taking a swig of beer, then swallowed. “Dunno. I just channel-hopped and there he was.”
Hurried thumping came from the stairs. “What am I missing?” Sawyer demanded.
“Isaiah’s on the Trudy Kallant Show,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes trained on the screen as Sawyer threw himself onto the couch beside me.
He scoffed. “Well, he looks arrogant as fuck.”
Out of nowhere, I found myself irrationally offended and defending him. “That’s just his face. He always smirks like that.”
Jealousy then rose when I caught Trudy checking him out. While Isaiah wasn’t actually flirting with her, I found myself unjustifiably possessive.
Trudy motioned for him to sit on the guest couch adjacent to her, and once they were both settled, she opened with, “So, it’s been less than a week since the leak of the sex tape of you and Ms. Gatlin, how are you both coping with the scandal?”
Isaiah’s eyebrows hit his dark hairline, and I fought the near-overwhelming urge to flee from the room.
“Dad, we don’t have to watch this,” I groaned from behind my hands.
He kept his eyes glued to the screen. “You don’t, but I do. This interview determines my actions when I see him again.”
“And mine,” Sawyer added, kicking back and crossing his arms over his chest like he would actually defend my honor.
“Shit,” I hissed under my breath and turned my attention back to the TV as Isaiah shrugged nonchalantly.
“For me? Business as usual. However, I can’t say the same for Holly. Unfortunately, she’s been affected far worse than I have.”
Trudy lifted her hand, palm-side up. “Care to elaborate?”
“Sure.” Isaiah started listing on his fingers as the hardened edge to his accent became more prominent. “First off, over and above the public humiliation, she lost her job, has been slandered by the media and called all the names under the sun that I know ain’t true. Second, she ain’t the hoe she’s been painted as, and, as a matter of fact, she’s someone who I care deeply about.”
Trudy took hold of that little breadcrumb. “Even though you’ve only been dating, what? A couple months?”
Isaiah leaned back and casually slung an arm along the rear of the couch. The steely look in his dark eyes had me leaning forward. Whatever came out of his mouth next was going to be blunt.
“Less.”
“So,” Trudy continued, “how do you know this is in fact affection when it could be called infatuation? This girl could have cost you your MLB career. It’s been implied that your contract with the Bears is now under review.”
Isaiah scoffed. “My contract with the Bears is as tight as a straight ni— straight man’s asshole. But let me ask you this, Trudy...” He leaned forward, mimicking my stance with his elbows planted on his bent knees. My heart sped up in anticipation.
“...Have you ever had a one-night stand that you just knew without an inch of a doubt that you couldn’t settle for it happening just once? Ever experienced that?”
She shifted in her seat a little, obviously unnerved by the questions being rounded onto her.
“Uh, no, Isaiah. I can’t say that I have.”
My man splayed his hands, indicating that she proved his unvoiced point. “Then you’ve no place questioning my connection with Holly.”
A collective gasp came from the live audience, then a wave of applause erupted.
Isaiah turned to the crowd, spurred on by their cheers. “You don’t know what you don’t know, right?”
He aimed a smug smirk Trudy’s way, and if she internally felt like I did when he aimed that look at me, she wanted to slap him upside the head.
Once the audience quietened, Trudy took back control. Weirdly, her and Isaiah exchanged a quick glance and subtle nod that indicated some kind of inside knowledge. My jaw clenched as my mind ran wild. What the fuck was he up to?
Trudy looked into the camera and announced, “For our second guest, I’d like to welcome Boyd Chapman to the stage.”
Clapping filled the studio and both Trudy and Isaiah stood to shake hands with the guy.
He grinned and waved like he was someone important.
Isaiah wasted no time in guiding him over to the rolling camera and slinging his arm around Boyd’s shoulders. Isaiah jostled him a little, a buddy gesture that was at odds with the hardened edge in his eyes.
“Here he is, America: Boyd Chapman in the flesh!” Isaiah whooped.
The crowd cheered and clapped, and both men grinned while the applause faded.
Isaiah then took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, visibly commanding attention from every single person in that studio and at home alike.
“So, I’mma need a minute to explain this, so listen closely,” he started. “I present to you Boyd Chapman, the man who broke an iron-clad NDA between his employer and the Portland Bears and distributed the sex tape of me and Holly. Not only that, but this m’fucker had the gall to blackmail me”—Isaiah tightened his grip on Boyd when the guy tried to pull away—“for, get this, one million dollars!”
He looked down at Boyd and asked, “Care to share your side of the story, dawg? Now’s your chance. The entire country is literally waiting to hear what you have to say.” Isaiah swept an arm toward the camera.
On my left, Sawyer pressed a balled fist to his mouth. “Oh shiiiiit. It’s about to go down!”
On my right, Dad laughed deeply into the top of his beer. “Fucking hell, this guy’s got some balls. I gotta admit, Hols, my opinion of Isaiah has changed in the last five minutes.”
“Really?” My voice pitched.
He looked me dead in the eye. “He’s sticking up for my girl and willing to publicly fight the battles. A loser wouldn’t do that, Holly. Neither would someone who didn’t truly care for you.”
Emotion prickled in my eyes at Dad’s praise. In a completely shitty situation and having not had the best first impression of Isaiah, I was glad that Dad saw this side of him.
I returned my attention to the TV when Isaiah goaded Boyd further. “Not as fierce now that you’re out from behind a keyboard, are you, Chapman?”
The guy shoved away and savagely pointed at Isaiah. “I’ll be suing you for defamation.”
Isaiah held up his palms and laughed. “You come for me and mine, I’ll come for you. You started this war, but I’m ending it tonight. And if it goes to court, you don’t stand a chance.” He emphasized with a finger stab at Boyd’s chest. “I expect a formal, public apology to Holly before the end of the weekend where you take full responsibility for your actions. If you don’t, then I’ll see you in court. Choice is yours.”
I pressed a trembling hand to my mouth. “Oh my god.”
“Christ.” Dad scrubbed a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I did not see that coming.”
“Neither did I,” I whispered, voice hoarse and tight with emotion I tried to keep contained.
“Jesus, there’s more,” Dad hissed.
Looking back to the show, my heart dropped. Boyd Chapman, the man who’d destroyed my life as I knew it, stood square on to the rolling camera and looked about to vomit.
He took a large breath, opened his mouth, then snapped it closed. Terror sharpened his eyes, and they pinged nervously around the crowd behind the camera.
His voice held a tremor even after he roughly cleared his throat. “Holly Gatlin, if you’re watching this, I’m so incredibly sorry for the pain and suffering I have caused from my actions. While I know it probably means nothing, please accept my sincere apologies and know that I am forever remorseful for what I did.”
I pressed my shaking hand to my mouth. Shock and disbelief rendered me speechless. I simply stared at the TV while he nodded one last time before turning his back on the camera and walking off the stage to Isaiah slow clapping.
After Boyd completely disappeared, Isaiah casually kicked back on the couch again. He set an ankle on the opposite knee, then declared, “What else would you like to know, Trudy?”
