Page 14 of The Players We Hate (Rixton U #2)

Talon

“I should probably get back.” She sighed. “If my mom checks and I’m not at my dorm, she’ll send security to look for me.”

I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let her go, but I nodded anyway. “Yeah… I’ll drive you.”

She gave me a small smile, soft but almost guilty. We straightened our clothes, and she climbed off my lap to sit beside me. She tugged her boots back on, the sharp sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet while I started the truck.

The ride across campus stayed silent, the weight of everything between us thick in the cab.

At her dorm, I walked her to the entrance.

Her fingers brushed mine in the shadows before she slipped inside.

No kiss, no goodbye. She couldn’t risk it—not with who she was and who might be watching.

But the look she gave me said it wasn’t over.

Only it wasn’t that simple. By morning, the whole campus felt colder, like something had shifted.

People crossed the quad with coffee and earbuds because it was just another Monday for them.

Yet for me, it wasn’t. Not with Wren still burned into my head, not with the memory of her falling apart in my lap.

I hadn’t texted her. Told myself I didn’t want to crowd her, but the truth was I wanted to. Practice was in an hour, and I needed my head on straight, but focus wasn’t happening.

Earbuds in, I cut across the quad toward the weight room, already running through lifts and drills, anything to work out the adrenaline still buzzing in my veins.

I didn’t expect to hear my name.

“Talon.”

I kept walking.

“Talon, we need to talk.”

That made me stop. Not because I cared what he had to say, but because his tone had shifted—sharper, more urgent.

I pulled out one earbud and turned.

Wells carried himself like he owned the place, as if his name alone gave him a free pass to anywhere he wanted to be. Blazer open over a pressed button-down, hair perfect, not a book or bag in sight. Only him and his smug confidence he never seemed to take off.

I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stood there and waited.

“I’ve been hearing things,” Wells said, his breath clouding in the cold air. “What’s this about you hanging around my sister?”

I gave him a slow grin. “I bet you're happy word on campus isn’t about your screwups for a change.”

His jaw ticked. “Don’t fuck with me. I know how this looks. Tatum leaves town because of me, and now you’re circling Wren. You think I don’t see what you’re doing? ”

I let out a low laugh. “Paranoid much? Not everything revolves around you.”

He ignored that, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not interested in her. Not really. You’re just using her to get back at me. And I won’t let you drag her into whatever grudge you’re still holding.”

My hands fisted at my sides, but I kept my voice even. “If you’re worried about anyone dragging her down, maybe look in the mirror. You’re the one who blackmailed Tatum until she couldn’t breathe here anymore.”

His jaw tightened, the flicker in his eyes betraying him before he caught himself. “That’s got nothing to do with Wren.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” I said, stepping in closer. “You’ve been hiding behind Wren for years, parading her around to clean up your family’s image while you dragged mine through the mud. She deserves better than being your shield. Better than being treated like a pawn in your father’s campaign.”

His voice dropped, cold and clipped. “She’s my sister. She doesn’t need you messing with her head to get even with me.”

“No,” I snapped. “She doesn’t need me feeding her anything. Maybe you’re scared of her finding out the truth on her own. What you and your father did and who you truly are.”

For a second, the tension tightened between us. His shoulders squared, his lip curling like he had one last card to play .

“You think you’re helping her?” Wells hissed. “You’re not. You’re dragging her into a storm she can’t handle. And when it blows up, she’ll be the one paying for it. Not you.”

I let my bag hit the sidewalk and shoved him back into the brick column. My forearm came up across his chest, holding him there. His breath caught, his pulse kicking hard under my arm.

“You don’t get to talk about storms,” I growled. “You blackmailed my sister until she had no choice but to run. You wrecked her life to save your own skin. So don’t stand here and pretend you give a damn about protecting Wren.”

His jaw tightened, chin lifting, certain he still had the upper hand. “You’ll ruin her, too,” he bit out. “You think you’re different, but you’re not. You’ll drag her down with you.”

“No,” I said, voice low. “The only one who’s ever dragged her down is standing right in front of me.”

We locked eyes, both breathing hard. Then he shoved at my chest, spitting out the words through gritted teeth.

“Get off me.”

I leaned in close, my voice low and controlled. “Stay out of her life, Perry. Try to drag Wren down like you did Tatum, and you’ll regret it.”

The shift hit me all at once, a warning, a silent war declared in the space between us. I braced for it, fists tight and body coiled, until a slow, familiar voice cut through the courtyard.

“Damn, Talon, you're trying to rack up penalty minutes before the game?”

Rowdy. Of course .

I didn’t have to look to know it was him. The amusement in his voice carried from a mile away, the grin laced with trouble and enough warning to tell me to ease up. Then he was there, sliding between us, clapping a hand against my chest and pushing me back an inch.

“Come on, man,” he said lightly, keeping his tone even. “Coach’ll lose his mind if you’re late because you were caught fighting. Save it for the ice.”

“I’m good,” I muttered, though my fists told a different story.

Rowdy turned his attention to Wells, his expression sharp. “You always gotta wind him up before warm-ups, Perry? He needs that fire for his slapshot, not to deal with your fragile ego.”

Wells tugged his jacket straighter, clinging to whatever pride he had left. “This isn’t about ego.”

Rowdy grinned. “Nah. You’ve got more helicopter-bro vibes than protective ones. It’s overkill.”

I almost laughed, but I swallowed it down. Rowdy’s jokes eased the edge, though not enough to unclench my fists or my jaw.

He tipped his head toward the rink. “We’ve got fifteen minutes till warm-ups. Save the fight for the ice.”

I gave a sharp nod. “I’m coming.”

Rowdy pivoted, clapping me on the shoulder as he threw Wells one last side-eye on his way out. “You’ve had your little chat. Now quit poking the bear before he bites.”

I thought that would be the end of it, but when we came up on the nearest bench, Wells couldn’t help himself.

“I heard about the Halloween party. ”

We slowed, though neither of us turned fully. Rowdy’s smirk lingered, sharp at the edges.

Wells’s voice was thick with smugness. “The hand-in-hand exit? Bold move, even for you, Pierce.” His glare cut straight at me. “You want to screw around with girls on campus, that’s your problem. But stay the hell away from my sister.”

The pause that followed was heavy, stretched tight between us.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and cut him a glare sharp enough to slice. “You don’t tell her what to do anymore. And you sure as hell don’t tell me.”

Rowdy chuckled as he finally turned away. “You want to micromanage someone? Go boss around your campaign manager.”

With that, we headed toward the rink, our steps falling into sync.

“You good?” Rowdy asked under his breath once we were out of earshot.

“Yeah,” I gritted out, though my pulse was still hammering.

“You sure?” Rowdy chuckled. “Because at this point, I’m starting to wonder if he’s the one who’s got a crush on you.”

Despite everything, I cracked a grin.

“He’s lucky I didn’t knock his teeth down his throat.”

Rowdy laughed. “Let me know next time. I’ll record it for the team group chat.”

And just like that, the fury in my chest simmered down. It didn’t fade, though .

Because Wells had made it clear. He wasn’t looking to protect his sister. He was trying to control her.

And the next time he came at me like that?

I wouldn’t be holding back.

***

The locker room was loud, the air heavy with sweat and tape. Pads and helmets knocked together, rap rattled out of a speaker in the corner, and the hiss of skates being sharpened cut through it all. I blocked it out.

I sat in front of my locker, elbows on my knees, gripping my phone. My thumb stalled over the screen before I forced myself to type.

Me: You coming tonight?

Me: Wait for me after. I want to talk to you.

I stared at it for a beat, then hit Send.

The second the words left my mouth, the pressure in my chest didn’t ease. It just got heavier, sitting hard against my sternum.

Because not only did I want her there to see me play, but I also needed her there.

Even if the words came out wrong, she needed to know about what went down with Wells.

The guys were already halfway suited up. I bent over my skates, lacing them with muscle memory, my head nowhere near the locker room. I was still on that sidewalk with Wells. Still in my truck with Wren curled against me, whispering she wanted to give me everything .

Rowdy plopped down beside me on the bench, cracking a stick of gum like we weren’t minutes away from one of the biggest games of the season.

“You get that out of your system?” he asked, elbowing me.

“If by ‘that,’ you mean Perry’s smug face? Not even close.”

He smirked. “Good. Save it for the ice. Don’t waste it now.”

“Rowdy—”

“Relax,” he cut in with a wink, shoving his mouth guard in. “I meant metaphorically. Mostly.”

I shook my head, but my lips twitched.

The tension in my shoulders didn’t budge until my phone buzzed in my hand.

Wren: I wasn’t planning on it, but… yeah. I’ll be there. A little late, but I’ll be there.

My chest tightened.

I locked the screen, slid the phone into my bag, and stood.

Whatever this was, whatever we were turning into, I was done pretending it wasn’t real.

And tonight, I was going to tell her.

Or at least try.