Page 94 of The Players We Hate
My feet shifted before I even realized it, carrying me a step closer, then another, the crowd fading around us.
And then movement at the base of the stairs cut through it. Reed had appeared, his chin jerking once in my direction. The signal was clear.
We slipped through the crush of bodies, weaving past shoulders and sloshing cups. The higher we climbed, the quieter it got, until the bass was only a faint vibration under our feet. Reed’s door was cracked, light spilling across the carpet.
Inside felt different. The noise from downstairs faded, replaced by the low hum of Reed’s computer in the corner. Two monitors glowed over a desk cluttered with coffee cups, a hoodie slumped over the chair, and sticky notes lining the edge.
The rest of the room looked every bit the college setup. Braysen football posters covered the walls, a gym bag lay open on the floor with cleats sticking out, and a picture of Reed and Tatum sat on the nightstand.
Kade leaned against the dresser, arms folded. Owen stayed near the wall, jaw tight. Rowdy had claimed the chair by the window, spinning it once before letting it squeak to a stop. Talon stood near the desk, body wound tight, his attention fixed on me.
My hand trembled as I pulled the flash drive from my pocket and set it on Reed’s desk. He plugged it in without a word, the screen filling with folders as his fingers flew over the keys. Code scrolled past, files opening and moving into new folders. The steady clack of the keyboard was the only sound, each tap marking the time slipping away.
Rowdy raised his cup. “Congrats, boys. We’re officially in a sports scandal. Somebody call Netflix and get us a documentary.”
A breath slipped out of me—almost a laugh.
Talon cut him a look. “Not the time.”
Rowdy lifted his hands, still grinning. “Tough crowd. Guess I won’t quit hockey for stand-up anytime soon.”
Willow chuckled under her breath, a couple of the guys shaking their heads, but no one joined in. The humor fizzled fast, replaced by the weight of what sat on Reed’s desk. My stomach knotted as every pair of eyes turned back to me.
I squared my shoulders. “It’s all there. NIL agreements, transfer ledgers, emails. Some files are still locked, but the financial records were wide open—donor ties, payouts, money routed through Brighter Futures and back to my father. It’s enough to nail him. The same trail showed up in Gavin’s deal.”
I glanced at Talon. He hadn’t moved, just stared at the computer screen like he already knew it had the power to blow everything apart.
Reed’s voice broke through the silence, clipped and certain. “I’ll cross-check this with the training logs and scholarship payments I flagged. If it lines up, this isn’t just shady boosters—it’s the whole system.”
“And it’s rigged,” Kade said, his voice low. “Not just games. The outcomes. Who gets recruited. Who gets benched. Who gets silenced.”
The room stilled, heavy enough to press into my ribs until it hurt to breathe.
I crossed my arms, forcing myself to stand tall. “I know I’ve messed up. The puck incident made it look like I was sneaking around. But this? I didn’t bring it for my father or his people. I brought it for you—for all of you.”
Talon’s voice cut through the quiet. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I did,” I said, my throat tight. “And not because of whatever’s between us. I care about you, yeah, but this is bigger. I couldn’t stand knowing someone’s greed might injure someone or cost you your season. I couldn’t live with being tied to it.”
Willow slipped her arm around my shoulders. She must’ve heard the crack in my voice because she pulled me in, her breath warm against my ear. “You’re a good person,” she whispered. “Not many people would’ve done what you did.”
Kade’s gaze flicked between us, softening as it landed on her. He nodded once. “She’s right. Thank you.”
Talon didn’t speak. He just stepped closer and slid his fingers through mine. The touch was so simple, so careful, it nearly undid me.
“I’m sending this to Logan Grant,” Reed said, his voice steady. “You said he’s solid. He was the only one who didn’t cave when Crimson U tried to bury their scandal. If he held his ground then, he’ll know how to handle this.”
Kade’s brow pulled tight. “You trust him?”
My throat was tight, but I nodded. “With this? Yeah. I’ve followed his work. Whenever my father’s name came up, Logan was one of the only reporters who didn’t spin it. He told the truth, even when it made him the enemy. If anyone can take this and not let it die in the dark, it’s him.”
Reed’s hand hovered over the trackpad, the files already queued, his jaw locked. The room felt smaller with each second, the weight of what we were about to do pressing in from every corner.
“This is it,” he said quietly.
The air thickened, every eye sliding toward me. Talon’s most of all—unyielding, cutting straight through me.
“You sure?” he asked, his voice low.
