Page 18 of The Players We Hate (Rixton U #2)

Talon

The goodbyes that morning were simple but heavy. I hugged Tatum tight, holding on a little longer than I meant to before kissing the top of her head.

Then came the guys. I missed Beckham and Hayes. I missed when things were simple—street hockey, flag football, killing time outside without a care. Back when we could just hang out without all the other shit hanging over us.

I clapped Reed on the back, and he gave me that steady look, like he already knew what I was thinking.

“I’ll keep you updated on what I find,” he said.

I nodded, grateful even if the words felt too thin for everything sitting between us. “Take care of her.”

“Always,” he answered without hesitation.

By the time I climbed behind the wheel, the weight of it all pressed down on me harder than the lack of sleep.

I was exhausted, but it didn’t matter. The whole drive back, I kept replaying the same truth in my head, beating it into myself until it stuck.

As much as I wanted Wren in my life, it was too much of a risk for me and for my sister.

For the only thing I had left that couldn’t be taken from me—hockey.

By the time I hit Rixton’s city limits, I’d resigned myself to it. Wanting Wren didn’t change the risk, and I couldn’t let that danger ruin everything. Hockey had to come first.

A few hours later, the final whistle blew, and the hum of the arena followed me into the locker room. We won—on the scoreboard, at least. But the pressure in my chest said otherwise.

I shoved my helmet into my locker and took a slow breath, trying to convince myself it was just exhaustion. That the unease rolling through me had nothing to do with the conversation I’d just overheard outside the coach’s office.

The office door was cracked when I passed by on my way to grab my postgame stat sheet.

I wasn’t planning to eavesdrop, but the second I heard Kade’s name and the word “betting,” I froze.

“I’ve already spoken with compliance,” Coach Dawson went on. “They want access to your accounts. Bank records. Even your phone. Anything that could link back to a bet.”

Kade’s breath came out sharp. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Someone makes up a story, and suddenly, I’m guilty until I prove otherwise?”

“That’s how it works,” Coach said flatly. “You know how thin the ice is when it comes to things like this. One whiff of scandal, and they’ll burn it all down to save themselves. ”

“I’ve never bet against us. I don’t even gamble,” Kade snapped, his voice rough. “You think I’d risk everything we’ve built? Risk my shot at the Frozen Four?”

“I said I believe you,” Coach repeated, but his words carried the weight of doubt beneath them. “Belief isn’t going to protect you if this report goes public. You need evidence. Something that proves you’ve been set up. Otherwise, you’re done.”

The room went quiet except for Kade’s heavy breathing. I could picture him pacing, jaw tight, hands fisted like he was ready to put a hole in the wall.

“Who sent it?” he asked finally, his voice low and sharp.

Coach hesitated. “Came through the athletic office. No name attached.”

Kade swore under his breath. “Of course it did.”

Beckham’s suspicions came rushing back—Wells always hanging around where he didn’t belong, Reed pointing out how Wren’s dad suddenly showed up at our game like he cared about hockey. The governor never cared. Not unless there was something in it for him.

My stomach twisted. I hadn’t told Wren about running into Wells before our last game, about the way he questioned me about hanging around his sister. If word about us got back to her dad, I didn’t even want to think about how that would play out.

The idea of someone trying to frame Kade made my blood boil. But the thought I couldn’t shake was worse—if they could go after him, they could come after any of us.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of it. I stepped away from the door and glanced at the screen .

Wren: Are you free? I was hoping we could meet up to talk.

Another message came in before I could respond.

Wren: I know it’s late, and you’re probably exhausted, but… if not tonight, then soon.

I stared at her texts, thumb hovering over the screen. The game had ended not long ago, and I hadn’t had a second to figure out how the hell I was supposed to cut her out before it got worse. Before it cost me more than I could afford.

Not because I didn’t want her. God, I wanted her. That hadn’t changed. But wanting her and being able to keep her in my life were two very different things.

So I forced myself to harden up, stacking walls around the part of me that ached to see her. Pretending it didn’t kill me to even think about pushing her away.

My chest tightened as I typed back, every word a weight I didn’t know if I could carry.

Me: Meet me at the bridge behind Alumni Hall. Twenty minutes.

***

I pulled into the lot near the bridge and killed the engine.

The truck rattled to silence, but my thoughts wouldn’t.

They spun restlessly, louder than before.

I sat there, gripping the wheel until my knuckles ached, staring through the windshield at the gray light bleeding across the buildings.

It all looked colder and darker than it was, which I guess was fitting.

Wren stood in the middle of the bridge, arms wrapped tight around herself, an old sweatshirt swallowing her frame.

Her hair was twisted into one of those messy knots that looked casual but wasn’t.

When her eyes found my truck, her face changed.

There was a hope sparking in her gaze before she had the chance to cover it.

That hope gutted me.

If I was being honest, I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to see her. I knew the second I did, I’d remember everything I was trying like hell to forget. The way she whispered my name against my skin, the way her laugh loosened something inside me I hadn’t realized was wound so tight.

Reed and Beckham were right. Wren Perry wasn’t just a girl who got under my skin.

She was a risk I should’ve seen coming. If her father was tied to what we were suspecting, she was dangerous.

If he wasn’t, maybe that was worse. It meant she was nothing more than bait.

She was a trap I’d already walked straight into.

She hurried over, a coffee cup in her hand, ponytail bouncing. Boots crunched on the gravel as I unlocked the door. She climbed in, bringing the smell of espresso and vanilla with her.

“Hey,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Congrats on the win tonight.”

I didn’t answer.

The smile slipped. “ Talon?”

My jaw tightened. “You said you wanted to see me.”

She blinked at me, unsettled. “What’s going on? You’ve been different since our trip to Braysen. The whole ride home, it felt like something had changed. Did something happen?”

Her fingers twisted in her lap, her eyes cutting back to me, searching.

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly.

I stared at the dash, forcing the words out like gravel. “I’ve been thinking. About us.”

Her body stilled, like even breathing might make the moment collapse.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut.

“What?” she whispered.

I finally looked at her. “That first night… the two of us together… it never should’ve happened. There’s too much bad blood between our families.”

Her head shook once, disbelief flashing. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” My voice was flat even though it burned to say it. “It wasn’t supposed to be anything. Everything just… got out of hand.”

Her breath caught. “You’re lying.”

I shook my head, even as it felt like I was tearing something out of myself. “Don’t make this harder, Wren.”

Her brows pulled tight. “Why are you doing this? What changed?”

“I just needed to get close to you,” I said, forcing myself not to look away. “To get under Wells’s skin. That’s all this ever was.”

Her mouth parted. Silence crashed down around us.

She blinked against the tears threatening, her voice breaking as she whispered, “That’s not true.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t reach.

Her eyes glistened as she fought to hold them back. “So that’s it? After everything, you want me to believe I was nothing more than a game to you?”

“Wren—”

“You can’t even look at me,” she hissed, swiping hard at her cheek. “After what Wells did to your sister, how the hell can you turn around and do the same thing to me?”

My jaw ached from how hard I clenched it. “With everything going on and what happened to my sister, I can’t risk you destroying my life more than you already have.”

The words were cruel. Too cruel.

She flinched like I’d struck her.

Then her expression shifted. Shoulders back, chin up. The softness drained out of her, replaced by the armor her family had taught her to wear. The girl who never let herself break where anyone could see.

“Well.” Her voice was calm, clipped, sharp at the edges. “That makes things clear.” She reached for the door, movements smooth and detached. “I hope I never see you again, Talon.”

The door shut with a dull thud. She walked away, her figure shrinking into the streetlight’s haze until she was gone.

I stayed there in the dark, hands locked around the wheel, heart pounding like I’d just lost something I’d never let myself fully claim.