Page 59 of Splintered Line
“Did you hear?” Adrian sits in the armchair with his legs crossed, composed, like he’s chairing a board meeting instead of an intervention in a frat house. “The Whisperer posted again.”
“I saw.”
“It’s getting specific,” Adrian continues. “They’re referencing the police report. They’re talking about the payoff.”
My jaw tightens. “Speculation.”
“Accurate speculation,” Declan says.
He cleans his nails with a pocketknife, the motion slow, rhythmic. Hypnotic.
“Someone’s feeding them. Someone who was in the room.”
I don’t look at him. Don’t react. I already know who stood in that room. I already know who’s holding the knife.
“It’s a rumor mill,” I say, keeping my voice even. “People love a tragedy. Especially when the hero shows a crack.”
“This isn’t gossip anymore, Gio,” Dante says.
He leans against the desk, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
“It’s a target. And you’re standing dead center.”
“Then I move.”
“Anchored,” Cole snaps, stopping short and turning on me. “Star winger. Face of the offense. If you go down, we all feel it. Scouts are watching. NHL eyes too. One wrong step and you’re radioactive.”
I hold his stare. He’s right. That’s the part that sticks—the way my mess bleeds outward. Brotherhood comes with a radius.
“I’m handling it.”
“How?” Adrian asks. “By dragging Zoë Barnes into it?”
The room stills.
I straighten. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Adrian says. “We saw you at the Box. We saw the texts. You’re walking her around like armor.”
“She’s a strategy,” I say. “Deliberate.”
“She’s a civilian,” Dante counters. “She has nothing to do with this. If Rylan—or whoever’s running that account—takes a shot, she’s the softest target.”
“She can handle herself.”
“Design student, Gio,” Cole says, voice climbing. “She doesn’t live in our world. She doesn’t know how to absorb a hit. You put her in the crosshairs, you’re setting her up to burn.”
Anger flares—hot, sharp. They see collateral. I see the only person who looked at me and saw the truth without flinching.
“She’s clear right now,” I say quietly. “I’m keeping it that way.”
“By letting everyone think she’s your girlfriend?” Declan asks. “That paints a bullseye.”
“Misdirection,” I snap. “If they think she’s mine, they hesitate. Second-guess. It buys time.”
“Time for what?” Adrian asks.
“To find the leak.”
