Page 82 of The Players We Hate
It would bury me.
I stumbled out of the bathroom and dropped onto my bed, pulling my notebook into my lap and flipping to a clean page. My pen moved quickly, my hand barely keeping up. Payout amounts. Shell sponsors. Brighter FuturesInitiative. I underlined it three times, then circled the W.P. signature until the ink pressed through the paper.
But there were still gaps. Too many. Gavin’s name was the only one I had.
How far did this go? Who else was tangled in it? Was Gavin the only one paid to fake injuries, or just the only one who couldn’t keep it up?
And the question that hit hardest—if I stayed quiet, what did that make me?
I snapped the notebook shut and stared out the window.
With both hands pressed to my chest, I tried to calm my breathing. I had to be careful. One wrong move and this wouldn’t just end my father’s career. It could take everything down with it.
I forced myself back to the laptop. The cursor blinked on the screen.
Access denied.
I tried my login again, slower this time, careful with each key. Then again. My fingers trembled before the red message appeared, indicating I’d been locked out.
Panic clawed up my throat, but I moved before it could swallow me. I printed every screenshot I managed to save. Each page rattled out louder than it should, like the printer knew what it was spitting out was dangerous. I gathered the stack with shaking hands, slid it into a manila folder, and crossed the room.
Instinct took over. I crouched by my dresser, pulled the bottom drawer out until it clattered against the floor, and shoved the folder into the space beneath. A hiding spot I had not thought about since I was a kid, tucking awaypoems and letters I never sent. Strange how secrets still fit in the same place.
I pushed the drawer back in and smoothed my palms over the front like that could erase what I just did.
It did not feel safe there. But leaving them out felt worse.
My pulse hammered, racing in my ears. I crossed to the window, needing air, needing to know the world outside was the same. The streetlight illuminated the sidewalk. Branches shifted in the wind.
I rested my palm against the sill. My reflection in the glass stared back, wide-eyed, lips parted as if I might scream if I let myself—but I didn’t.
Instead, I thought of Talon and what it would mean to tell him. The way his voice stayed even while doubt lingered in his eyes, wanting to believe me but not sure he could.
For a moment, I almost reached for my phone and called him. Almost leaned on him the way I wanted to.
But I didn’t. Not yet. Not until I knew more. Not until I could shield him from what it would mean if I was right.
I shut off the light and let the room go dark. The silence pressed in, heavy. I crawled into bed, blanket pulled to my chin, my body sinking into the mattress.
“There’s no going back now,” I whispered into the dark.
I closed my eyes, stuck with the truth I couldn’t unsee.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Talon
I knew something was wrong the second I picked up the call.
My aunt never sounded like this before. Her voice was strained, low, like she was trying to hold back just enough so I wouldn’t panic. It didn’t work.
“She’s okay,” Susan said quickly, though her voice carried more worry than reassurance. “It was her sugar again. She was mid-sentence and just… stopped. Her eyes went glassy, like she didn’t know where she was. By the time I got her to sit down, she was sweating through her shirt and drifting off. I gave her juice, and she’s awake now, but Talon, it keeps dropping. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t think she’s being honest about how often it’s happening. You’d better come home.”
I swiped condensation from my face, water still running down my back as I gripped the phone tighter. The towel slid off my shoulders and hit the floor with a wet slap.
“Did you call anyone?” My voice came out harsher than I meant, but the thought of her sitting there out of it, sweating, slipping under had my pulse spiking.
“She made me promise not to,” Susan said softly. “Told me it was nothing. But it isn’t nothing, Talon. Her sugar keeps dropping, and I don’t know why. She needs someone to make her listen, and right now, that someone has to be you.”
