“Do you want to sit down?” he asks as he parks himself behind his desk.
To look at him you’d never know what he’s been up to today. He shows no sign of guilt or remorse for the client he fired or the player whose focus he shattered. He doesn’t even look like Brad at the office. He’s dressed casually like he’s sitting down to dinner with me. I half expect my mom to walk in at any moment with a wineglass in one hand and her phone in the other.
Luckily we remain alone. What I’m about to do, I can’t do in front of her.
“No,” I answer him quietly. “I’ll stand.”
“Up to you. What’s on your mind, Sloane?”
I wring my hands together, trying to look uncomfortable. It’s not hard. “We’ve got a problem with Domata. Actually, a few problems with him.”
“The abortion being the biggest.”
“Obviously, yes.”
His face becomes stern. “Why didn’t you tell me about it immediately?”
“I wanted to find out how legitimate the threat was.”
“And did you?”
I nod heavily. “I did. I went to the girl’s apartment today to talk with her. She told me everything. She had the timeline nailed down, documentation of doctor’s visits to support it. She even showed me the receipt for the funds transfer from Domata’s checking account to hers. He paid for the abortion, just as she said. He also…” I sigh, looking away. Looking dismayed. “He bullied her into it. I heard voicemails. He was angry and vicious.”
“That doesn’t sound like him,” he comments, relaxing back into his seat. He expected a rant out of me. He probably thought this meeting was going to be about Demarcus, not Trey. He definitely didn’t expect me to come in and calmly start pointing out Trey’s shortcomings.
“I don’t think we know who he is. None of us do.”
“Including you?” he presses.
“Especially me. I thought I knew him, but I knew the numbers. I didn’t know the man. He’s darker than I could have imagined, and it’s not just the bullying.”
“What else did you find out?”
I honestly hesitate now. This part is not an act. What I’m about to tell Brad is a secret Trey has kept for years. A secret Coach Reagan kept for him, but this is what he wants. Trey wants out, and the only way I’ll get him clear of this agency is if he’s a time bomb waiting to blow up in all of our faces.
“He has panic attacks,” I tell Brad thickly, my body revolting against the admission. I clear my throat, pressing on. “He’s had them all his life. The coaching staff helped him hide it at UCLA because his talent was worth the effort, but they’re getting worse. They’re getting violent.”
Brad frowns. He wasn’t expecting this. He’s not sure which direction to go with it. “Who told you this?”
“Coach Reagan. He confessed everything after I went to him last week. I heard a rumor that Domata had lost his temper at practice. I asked him about it and he got very cagey, so I went to the coach and asked him if he’d ever seen anything like it when Domata was at the school. It took some prodding, but he finally confessed that he knew all about it.”
“How bad are they?”
“It used to be he would get short of breath, nearly fainting. It’s changed as he’s gotten older. It’s angrier now. More aggressive.” I nod to his computer. “Check your e-mails. We got a message from Kurtis Matthews, the tight end on Domata’s team. He told Hollis he saw Trey losing his mind in the locker room today in Miami. He was throwing things, shouting at everyone, screaming into his phone.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Brad scoffs, turning to his computer. “The kid is known for his composure.”
“Not off the field. His personal life is a hot button for him. His parents, his friends, his relationships. He hates feeling out of control, like people are running his life.” I glance pointedly at the wall where the stucco has been mended. It’s perfect, seamless, but I’m sure my dad still remembers that night and the damage Trey did. “I think you’ve seen him in action before.”
Brad follows my eyes. His face pinches, harshly shadowed by the glow from his computer screen. “Yes, I remember.”
“The abortion story is going to come out,” I tell him plainly, folding my arms over my chest. “Every word of it is true, and then some. It’s only a matter of time until the girl goes public, and then what happens? She paints him in a very ugly light. Larkin’s DUI is going to look like a Kindergarten time out when this shit hits the fan. No company will touch Domata. Not with his image destroyed and his career built on sand. He’ll be lucky if the Kodiaks don’t let him go at the end of the season.”
“This was your sign, Sloane,” he reminds me, his eyes scanning his email as he scolds me. “You fought for him. Are you suddenly done with him? One bump in the road and you’re ready to cut and run?”