Page 17 of The Players We Hate (Rixton U #2)

Talon

Showing up with Wren had thrown Tatum. I could see it in her eyes.

She hadn’t expected to see Wells’s sister standing at her door.

But Wren wasn’t like the rest of her family, and I think Tatum knew it, too.

Whatever surprise she felt, it didn’t change the truth.

Wren cared, and it wasn’t fair to lump her in with them just because of her last name.

The guys had pulled me into Reed’s room after Wren slipped outside with Hallyn, Beckham’s girlfriend.

The door clicked shut, cutting us off from everyone else. That’s when I realized what Reed was capable of. He didn’t brag about it, just laid out the truth of how he had the kind of skills that could track Wells, dig up whatever crap their family had buried, and use it to keep him away from Tatum.

I hated that it meant dragging Wren into it, hated the knot of guilt that twisted in my gut. But if this was the only way to make sure my sister was safe before things went any further, then I didn’t see another choice.

I wasn’t ready for how much seeing Tatum again would get to me.

She looked stronger than the last time I saw her.

More settled. There was still a shadow in her eyes, but it didn’t own her the way it did when she first left Rixton.

The second she leaned into Wren, even just barely, some of the tightness in my chest finally let up.

I needed her to be okay. Not just for her, but for me too.

Knowing Reed had her back took some of the edge off. By the time we got downstairs, the knot in my chest had loosened a little.We settled into the living room, the old couch sagging beneath us, the muted hum of voices carrying in from the kitchen.

Beckham dropped into the seat beside me, eyes cutting toward the patio. “Your girl gonna survive out there with Hallyn and Ava?”

“She’s not my girl,” I muttered, following his line of sight.

He smirked, one brow climbing. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

I shoved his shoulder, grinning when he almost spilled forward. “You’re an ass.”

He barked out a laugh, the sound catching a few others’ attention before the mood shifted. He leaned in, elbows on his knees, and just like that, I knew the joking part was over.

“Listen, I didn’t want to say anything in front of your sister, but I need to tell you something. About Wells.”

The humor drained from my face. “What about him?”

Beckham glanced toward the kitchen to make sure no one else was in earshot.

“I’ve had my suspicions for a while now.

Back when I was still at Rixton, Wells was always hanging around the wrong people.

We both know Rixton’s more of a hockey school, and if I wanted a real shot at the NFL, I needed to transfer somewhere scouts actually paid attention.

But before I left, I saw enough to know something was off.

I think Wells is tied up in game betting.

Not just placing bets but running them, orchestrating, and I think he’s using players to do it. ”

A cold weight settled in my stomach.

“I never could quite pin it down,” Beckham went on. “But I suspected he was up to something even then. I knew politics would end up interfering with my starting spot sooner or later, so I didn’t dig deeper.”

“You’re serious?”

Beckham nodded. “Dead serious. And I doubt he’s pulling it off alone.”

That caught my attention. “You think someone’s helping him?”

He hesitated, jaw tight before he finally said it.

“I wouldn’t doubt if his dad has a hand in it somehow.

With how much they do to keep their image clean and cover their tracks, there’s no way he doesn’t know what his son’s wrapped up in—unless he’s helping bury it. Or worse, he’s part of it himself.”

I leaned back, blowing out a sharp breath. “There’s no way Wren has any idea.”

Beckham’s jaw tightened. “Maybe she doesn’t. Living under that roof, she’s closer to it than anyone. Either way, if what you’re saying is true, it’s bad. Program-wide consequences bad.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to believe it either, but I’ve met her dad. He’s intense, and he’s also the reason a lot of donors still back the university. ”

Beckham frowned. “Why do you think he’d care about hockey? He’s politics and money. What’s he doing tied up in your world?”

“Exactly,” another voice cut in.

Reed stepped into the room, a bottle of water in hand. He hadn’t said much since our conversation in his room earlier, but now his eyes were locked on me. “I heard he was at your last game.”

“Governor Perry?” Hayes asked. Beckham glanced at his brother and gave a quick nod.

“Yeah,” I said. “He was up in the press box with a bunch of donors. Didn’t have to say a word, just being there was enough.”

A chill ran down my spine. I already knew about the new athletic facility they were trying to push through, and having the governor show up at a Rixton hockey game was the perfect photo op.

He wanted people to believe he cared about schools and athletics, even if it was nothing more than a campaign move.

Reed crossed the room and leaned against the back of the couch. “It’s always about optics with guys like him. He’s powerful, Talon. Board seats, alumni connections, control over where athletic funding goes. If he wants something to disappear, it disappears. If he wants someone to take the fall…”

Beckham cut in, voice flat. “Then they don’t get a choice.”

A quiet beat passed.

Reed’s voice dropped, his gaze sharp. “Even if Wren isn’t involved, if this thing blows up and you’re standing next to her? They won’t ask questions. They’ll come for you. ”

“You think they’d try to pin this on me?” It sounded ridiculous, but the knot in my gut didn’t see it as a joke.

“I think if someone needed a scapegoat badly enough,” Reed said slowly, “they’d make one. You’re on scholarship, right? You’ve got NHL eyes on you. One headline, even if they spun it right, could blow it all.”

I swallowed hard. Beckham clapped a hand on my shoulder, anchoring me. “Just be careful, man. You’ve got a lot to lose.”

My eyes drifted toward the window overlooking the backyard again. Wren was out there under the patio lights, laughing quietly with Ava and Hallyn like she hadn’t just walked into a storm.

Maybe she didn’t know the truth. Or perhaps she was already tangled in it, just like the rest of us.

***

The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, the low hum of the baseboard heater the only sound left now that everyone else had gone to bed.

I stayed behind in the living room, pretending to watch muted highlights of a game I already knew the outcome of. I knew I should sleep. I had to be on the road early if I wanted to make it home in time for tomorrow’s game, but my head wouldn’t shut off.

It kept replaying everything I’d learned on this trip to Braysen. Beckham’s suspicions. Reed’s warnings. The way every piece seemed to circle back to Wells, Wren, her father, and my sister.

Reed was digging into Wells, I knew that much. If it came down to it, he’d help me. I just hoped it wouldn’t get to that point. I didn’t want to drag anyone else into the mess circling my family and hers. If I could defuse it before it blew up in my face, I had to try.

The pullout mattress creaked as Wren shifted, scrolling half-heartedly through her phone.

A sharp buzz cut through the quiet, and her screen lit up with a name she didn’t say out loud.

She shot me a quick look, something between guilt and warning, before slipping off the makeshift bed and stepping toward the doorway.

I stayed where I was, but her voice carried back to me anyway. “Hello, Father.”

The word landed heavily. She kept her tone light, casual, like she wasn’t standing in a stranger’s living room in a town hours from where he thought she was.

I tried not to listen, but it was impossible not to miss the sharp edge of his voice bleeding through the line.

He was checking in, making sure she was where she was supposed to be.

Wren’s tone stayed light, practiced, as she lied about being back at her dorm, claiming she was turning in early.

She mentioned turning her location off while we were gone, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

My stomach twisted. She was covering for me, for us, and I knew how risky that was.

If anyone connected the dots, if her dad ever caught wind of where she really was, it could all come back on me.

With the suspicions about betting and politics, the thought made my skin crawl.

One mistake and being with Wren could cost me everything .

My scholarship, my reputation, and maybe even hockey itself.

When she hung up, she caught me watching. “Everything okay?” she asked, like she hadn’t just lied straight to the governor of the state.

“Yeah,” I said, but the word tasted off. She didn’t push. She slipped back onto the pullout, tucking her legs beneath the blanket as her dad’s voice still buzzed faintly through my mind.

I sat there a second too long, uneasy. If she could lie to her dad that quick, what else could she lie about? The thought stuck, no matter how much I told myself I trusted her.

I couldn’t sit in that room any longer. The walls were closing in. I cut through to the dining room, glanced out the window toward the backyard, the floorboards creaking under me.

Reed walked out of the kitchen with a glass of water. He stopped when he saw me, eyes narrowing like he already knew what was running through my head.

“Is she asleep?” he asked, nodding toward the living room.

“Not yet,” I said quietly. “I just needed a minute.”

We stood there in the dim light, the quiet pressing down around us.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “I never said thanks. For what you did, for getting that photo taken down as fast as you did. If it had spread any further…” My words caught, the thought of my sister’s face plastered across phones and feeds choking me .

Reed shook his head. “You don’t need to thank me. I’d do anything to take care of her, to make sure she’s okay. That’s all I care about.”

“You better,” I said, my voice low. “Because if you don’t, I will.”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t back down. We held each other’s stare.

“I get it,” I added quietly. “You care about her, but she’s my sister. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”

Reed gave a single nod, the edge in his posture softening just enough to let me know he’d heard me.

Something in his expression eased, just slightly, like the unspoken agreement between us was enough for tonight. He nodded once and slipped around the corner, disappearing upstairs toward his bedroom, leaving me in the hall with my thoughts.

I leaned against the breakfast bar, dragging a hand down my face. I wasn’t afraid of hits on the ice. I wasn’t scared of standing up for my sister. I wasn’t even afraid of what I felt for Wren.

But this? This wasn’t something I could fight my way through. It was bigger than me, bigger than us.

And deep down, I knew I’d have to let her go before it all blew apart.