Page 48 of The Players We Hate
The rustling on the line picked up again, then her voice went flat. “Look, I’ve got people here. I need to go. Talon, call me later.”
“Wait, Tate—”
The line went dead before I could get another word out. Wren passed me the phone, and I stared at the screen as Tatum’s name disappeared. She’d hung up.
Of course she did. I couldn’t even blame her.
I dropped the phone to my thigh and let out a long breath, dragging a hand over my jaw and through my hair. My body was still running hot from the game, adrenaline humming, but this was different. This was worse.
Wells wasn’t going to stop.
He didn’t just cross a line. He shattered it.
If he thought he could mess with Tatum again and not deal with me, then he had clearly forgotten who the hell I was.
Beside me, Wren shifted in her seat. I could feel her watching me, even though she didn’t speak right away.
“Talon?” Her voice was soft but steady, and somehow, that made my jaw clench harder.
Even she could feel the pressure building under the surface, ready to split me open. “What are you going to do?”
I looked at her.
She sat angled toward me, hair slipping over her shoulder, the glow from the lot catching her face. Her eyes were on me, filled with worry. I leaned forward, elbows on the steering wheel, shoulders heavy.
“I’m going,” I said, voice low. “Heading to Braysen. First thing in the morning.”
Wren didn’t answer right away. I looked at her, half expecting her to tell me I was overreacting, that Wells wouldn’t actually hurt Tatum, that it wasn’t on me. She didn’t.
She just nodded, slow, her brow pulling tight like she was turning something over in her head.
“I don’t know all the details,” I admitted, running a hand over my thigh, “but Wells is harassing her again. This time, he sent her a photo and a video. Something he took when they were together. She’s rattled.”
Wren’s lips parted. “That’s… God, that’s awful.”
I nodded. “Yeah. She was holding it together on the call, but I could hear it in her voice. She’s scared and upset. And probably blaming herself somehow, knowing her.”
Wren reached across the console, her fingers brushing lightly against my arm before settling there. “Then let me come with you.”
My head snapped toward her. “Wren.”
“I mean it,” she said quickly, her voice gentle but sure. “I want to be there. For her and for you. Please don’t shut me out of this.”
I hesitated, my chest tight. The last thing I wanted was to drag Wren into more of the mess her brother had created, and part of me knew Tatum might not want her anywhere near this. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. She might not—”
Wren shook her head, cutting me off with a quiet conviction. “Tatum was always kind to me, Talon. Even when the rest of my family made me feel invisible, she never did. Shesaw me. And I never forgot that. If she’s hurting, I want to be there for her too.”
The way she said it reminded me of Tatum—like she knew how to make people who felt alone feel seen.
It hit me harder than I wanted, loosening something inside I’d been trying to hold tight.
“You’re a good brother,” she said, and that hit harder than I expected.
I looked over at her again.
“I’ve always been the one who has to hold it together,” I admitted. “My dad took off before Tatum was out of diapers. My mom loves us, but when things get hard, it’s always been on me to step up.”
The cab of the truck felt smaller suddenly. Quieter.
