Page 22 of The Players We Hate (Rixton U #2)
The locker room door shut behind me with a dull thud, cutting off the noise inside. The air still smelled like sweat and rubber. I stood there a second in the hallway, eyes adjusting to the dim light, footsteps echoing off the empty walls.
I leaned against the cinderblock wall, the cold seeping through my sweatshirt, and pulled out my phone. My thumb hovered over the screen—I'd promised Kade I’d reach out too.
I hated this part. Hated what it meant to drag someone else in. To ask for help digging into things that probably weren’t mine to touch. But I couldn’t shake Gavin’s face in the locker room. Couldn’t ignore the way his eyes kept darting to the exit, like he expected someone to be waiting for him.
He wasn’t tired or nervous. He was afraid.
And it wasn’t only Gavin I was thinking about.
Too much had been stacking up—Kade’s truck window smashed out, the way the guys had started acting differently, and then Wren showing up at practice with her perfect posture and that cool stare.
Like she already knew where this was headed and was just waiting for the rest of us to figure it out.
I scrolled through my contacts, past teammates and family, until my thumb paused on one name. Reed Hendrix. I hit call. It rang twice before he answered.
“Didn’t expect to hear from you tonight.”
His voice came through calm and steady, the same as always.
“Yeah,” I said, shifting against the wall and rubbing the back of my neck. “Sorry to bother you this late. ”
Reed gave a low laugh. “What is it this time? You're calling to check on your sister, or is there more drama happening in Rixton? Or maybe you just want an excuse to run away here, too?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer before his tone shifted. “You’re not calling for nothing. What’s going on?”
I glanced down the hallway again out of habit and lowered my voice.
“I need your help with something. It’s got to stay between us, though.”
Reed didn’t answer right away. The silence on the other end wasn’t hesitation. It was him listening, weighing.
“Go on,” he said.
“There’s a player on the team. Gavin Cruz, junior forward.
” I tried to keep my tone steady even though my pulse was kicking faster.
“He’s been nursing a leg injury, but nothing about it adds up.
His story keeps changing. He skates fine when no one’s paying attention, but the second a coach is near, he’s limping like he’s barely holding it together. ”
“You think he’s faking?”
“I don’t think. I know.” The words came out sharper than I meant. “It’s not just that either. He’s jumpy. Paranoid. Flinches when guys ask simple questions. I’ve seen players fold under pressure before, but this feels different.”
I dragged a hand down my face, the weight pressing on me, heavy as gear I couldn’t take off.
“He’s hiding something. And I think it’s bigger than him.”
Reed stayed steady, his voice even. “You think he’s tied up in the betting? Beckham mentioned he had his suspicions.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But if he is, we’ve got to cut him loose before it spreads. ”
“And who else do you think is involved?”
I hesitated, then let it out. “Wren Perry.”
The name landed heavily. Even through the line, I could hear Reed’s breath catch.
“She’s been around too much lately,” I said. “At practices, in the halls, talking to Cruz, always watching. It’s like she’s digging, and the timing’s too perfect.”
“You think she’s watching Gavin?”
“I think she’s watching all of us.”
There was a beat of silence before Reed asked, “Has she told you anything?”
“No.” My jaw tightened as I stared at the floor. “She barely looks at me. Keeps her distance. Can’t blame her for it either. It’ll be on me to break the silence, if that’s ever gonna change.”
Reed already knew the truth. He knew I was the one who’d walked away, and that she hadn’t exactly chased me. After she went with me to Braysen, he’d done some digging on her. He came back saying he couldn’t find anything solid, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t connected in some way.
“You think it’s political?” Reed asked.
“I don’t know.” I let the silence stretch before I answered. “Word’s gotten around about her brother losing his scholarship. It barely hit the news or the local blogs before it got snuffed out, but it’s out there. And now she’s here, in our space, with access.”
“You want me to see what I can find on them?”
“Start with Gavin. Class schedule. Who he spends time with and if he’s talking to anyone unusual. Anything that doesn’t line up. If it circles back to Wren, then yeah, I want to know. ”
Reed’s tone didn’t waver. “You realize you’re asking me to tail the governor’s daughter, right?”
“I’m asking you to help me protect my team. If someone’s already gotten to one of our guys, we can’t sit back. Not this late in the season. Especially not with what’s on the line.”
There was a pause before Reed answered. “Alright. I’ll keep it clean and quiet. No names unless I’m sure. No digital trail.”
“Thanks.” I blew out my breath. “Just let me know as soon as you find anything.”
“I will.”
The line clicked off.
I stood there with the phone still warm in my hand, the hallway closing in. I should’ve felt better, like I’d finally taken a step instead of just waiting for the bottom to drop. But it sat heavy.
I didn’t want to believe Wren was mixed up in any of it. Didn’t want to think the girl who once kissed me like she had nothing left could be the one to lie to my face. Stand with my team, clipboard in hand, and hide a knife behind her back.
Still, my gut said this wasn’t just about Gavin’s knee. It was bigger. And if I didn’t figure it out fast, it wouldn’t just cost us a game—it’d cost us everything.