My Hockey Alpha by Eve Above Story PDF

My Hockey Alpha Chapter 282

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.

Enzo pushed the door open and poked his head in. He looked around for a moment before

Things were strewn about as though the place had

that Lewis

shrugged. “Probably.” He walked over to the kitchen and peered into a few open drawers, nodding to himself thoughtfully as 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

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 see his father’s last home

Enzo replied matter-of-factly. “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.

I frowned and touched

word, he bent down and gently kissed my forehead. “Wait here,” he

the stairs, disappearing from sight. I felt a bit uncomfortable being there alone when Lewis could have walked in at any moment, but I occupied myself with walking around and picking some things up. I picked up a few dining chairs and set them upright where they belonged, then stooped down to pick up a picture that had been thrown to the 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 seen before, and a little boy. As I looked at it, I realized that it was a family photo with Richard, Enzo’s mother, and

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

small into his pocket;

go home,”