Page 89 of The Players We Hate
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath uneven. “Come with me,” he whispered. “We’re not doing this alone anymore.”
By the time we went downstairs, the noise of the earlier crowd was gone. The pizza boxes were cleared, blankets tossed aside, and the only ones left were Owen, Rowdy, and Kade, all sprawled across the living room like they’d been waiting.
Kade straightened when he saw me, his eyes narrowing. “What’s she doing here?”
“Hold on,” Talon said, lifting his phone. Reed’s face lit up the screen, the glow catching on Talon’s hand as he angled it toward us. “She’s got something we all need to hear.”
The room shifted. Owen leaned forward, arms braced on his knees. Rowdy raised a brow but stayed quiet for once. Kade folded his arms, his jaw ticking like he was ready to bite back.
“This better not be another distraction,” Kade muttered. “We’re already one wrong move from blowing it all up.”
“It’s not,” Talon said flatly. His gaze flicked to me and held. “She wouldn’t be here if it were.”
The weight of his words landed hard, quieting even Rowdy’s usual quips. I slid the folder containing the screenshots from my hands and set it on the table. My fingers shook, but my voice didn’t.
“This is from the NIL system. Before I got locked out.”
I spread the first page showing Gavin’s deposit log. “This payout was flagged under a fake sponsor. I traced it back to a student enrichment fund running through a nonprofit called the Brighter Futures Initiative.”
Kade leaned closer, squinting. “Brighter Futures…”
“It’s a shell,” I said. “Looks good on paper, but it’s just moving money. Brighter Futures feeds into Pioneer Alliance, and that money shows up again as fake NIL deals.”
Talon nodded. “Didn’t you overhear Coach in his office, talking about a Brighter Futures donation?”
Kade dragged a hand over his neck. “Yeah. He mentioned Brighter Futures funding the next phase of their plan. I knew something didn’t add up, and this explains it.”
Reed’s voice cut in from the phone, clipped. “Wren, did you say Brighter Futures?”
“Yes.”
Keys clattered fast on his end. “That’s the same trail I found when I dug into the betting lines they pinned on Kade. Money starts with Pioneer Alliance, runs through Brighter Futures, and comes out the other side as NIL payouts. It’s a laundering cycle—payouts, bonuses, hush money.”
Owen let out a low whistle. “So it’s bigger than just a couple of sketchy payments.”
“Way bigger,” Reed said. “Players aren’t just getting money—they’re being tied to someone’s agenda.”
“Whose?” Rowdy asked, his tone losing its usual ease. “Who’s pulling the strings?”
I glanced down at the last page. The signature block was at the bottom of the approval document. Two simple initials.
“W.P.,” I said softly. “My father. And from the looks of it, your coach knows more than he’s letting on. I don’t see anything showing he’s directly in control of it, though.”
The room went still.
Talon exhaled. “He’s using Brighter Futures to control outcomes. To tie players and schools straight to him.”
“For what?” Owen muttered.
“If I had to guess… power,” Kade said grimly. “Influence. Loyalty.”
Reed nodded. “The governor’s sitting on a gold mine of leverage. If he can steer which teams succeed, which players get drafted, which programs get funded, he builds alliances. Favors. He can call in debts from athletic boards, boosters, even league scouts.”
“And if someone steps out of line?” Talon asked.
“They lose everything,” I said quietly. “Scholarships. Playing time. Reputations.”
Rowdy flipped a puck into the air and caught it without looking. “That’s why Gavin kept his mouth shut.”
