My Hockey Alpha

Chapter 282: Once a Home, Now Empty

Nina

“Come on,” Enzo said as he handed me my helmet. “We’re going on another ride.”

I raised my eyebrows as I took the helmet. “Where are we going?” I asked. Enzo didn’t answer. He just got on the motorcycle, and then started it up once I got on behind him. We started driving back out onto the main road. A few minutes later, I realized where we were going.

We were going to Enzo’s father’s house. I felt a lump rise into my throat when I saw the square silhouette of the modern home rise in the distance; I hoped that Enzo wasn’t planning on confronting Lewis that night with no backup.

But as we pulled up into the driveway, the house looked dark and empty. There were no cars in the driveway. Enzo parked the motorcycle and we climbed off and headed up to the door, which was cracked open and creaking in the breeze.

Quietly, Enzo pushed the door open and poked his head in. He looked around for a moment before throwing me a nod and then headed in.

the door. The house was dark and empty. Things were strewn about as though the place had been ransacked, and furniture was tipped

you think that Lewis did this?”

though he was taking account of what had been stolen. I looked around as well, but as I did, I noticed something; most of the expensive things, such as art and electronics, were left alone. The whole place was ransacked, but the things that any typical robber would steal were still there. Instead, it was

He didn’t seem to want to show it, but I could tell that he was sad. Even though I knew that he didn’t particularly care for this house and that he hadn’t spent much time there, I was sure that it was still sad to

“My father may have had something hidden in here that Lewis wanted. Money, probably. Either way, it seems as though he found what he was looking for. Either that, or they just wanted to destroy the place

I frowned and touched Enzo’s arm. “I’m

the darkness. Without a word, he bent down and gently kissed my forehead. “Wait here,”

floor. When I picked it up, the glass was broken. The photograph inside the frame depicted Enzo’s father, a woman who I had never

moment, but I knew that he would want it down the road. And someday, maybe we could come back here and clean the place up. Technically, the house belonged to Enzo now. I didn’t know if he would want to keep it or sell it, but I could see its potential as a beautiful house; it just needed a touch of comfort inside, rather than the stark gray furnishings of a middle-aged wealthy widower. Maybe,

coming back down the stairs. I peeked around the corner to see that he seemed to be slipping something small into his pocket; assuming that it was just something sentimental, I decided not to pry. Enzo walked up to me then and

home,”

I asked. “I thought you came here to look