Chapter 63
ELI
Salem wasn’t lying. Casey “Clover” Cavanaugh—the Wolves’ D-man I partnered with from my rookie season until I was traded to the Comets—is dead.
The news is everywhere, and a murky cloud has settled over the sport. Hockey is in shock and mourning.
Suddenly, our upcoming game against the Wolves has another layer I can’t outrun. My anxiety is through the roof.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jayden asks while we meander towards the gallery on Rodeo Drive.
Neither he nor Finley were keen on leaving Salem alone after the news broke, but I told JJ last night that we’d make today about us. That’s what we’re doing. Besides, Salem looked like she needed time to herself.
“Yes,” I answer, forcing ease into my tone.
Last night set us back—I’m not so stupid to think Jayden or Finley have forgotten it happened because we haven’t addressed it in the light of day.
When he nods, I assure him with a squeeze of my hand around his. As his stare finds mine, I tell him, “I need this.”
I draw him flush to my side and hook my other arm over Fin’s shoulders, bringing her in, too.
“Do you really want to spend what’s left of your morning here?” she asks, squinting up at me. “I can come another time with Christina or Summer. Actually, Courtney said she wanted to check it out…”
“Fin?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s our morning. Our day,” I say, watching her whole face light up.
We’re at the gallery door when it swings open. A tall, dark-haired guy in a three-piece suit grins at our girl like they know each other. “Are you gonna stand out there and burn all day?”
I side-eye JJ. It’s not even in the seventies. Spring is a rumor at best.
He extends a hand to Finley, and the muscle in Jayden’s jaw knots. I swear he growls for both of us.
“Hey, Harrison,” Fin says, slapping his palm. “It’s hardly spring.”
Exactly, asshole!
Fin turns to JJ and me, beaming smile pinching tight with the laughter vibrating in her chest.
“JJ, Eli, this is Harrison. He’s Parker’s and Summer’s friend.” Giving him a questioning glance, she adds, “Harrison, these are my guys, Jayden and Eli.”
“Nice to meet you. Come on in, make yourselves at home.” Opening the door wider, he gestures inside. “Drink bar is at the front.”
While we follow him inside, Fin whispers, “Harrison owns the gallery. His family owns one of America’s most prestigious art collections.”
Makes sense, he’s right at home in the starkly bright space. It’s all pristine white and glass walls that offer a maze-like path through the gallery.
“I recommend starting the exhibition here.” Harrison points to a colonial-style glass archway. “It’s a celebration of women for Women’s History Month. Every piece, unless marked as sold, is available.”
“Have Alice’s photos sold?” Finley asks, taking the drink menu from Harrison and passing it to Jayden, who passes it to me because we’re both still watching the guy too closely to pay attention to it.
“Parker bought Summer’s portraits before opening night, obviously. The others aren’t for sale, they’re going to be displayed at The Henderson Collection in New York.”
“Your family’s gallery. Of course.” Fin offers him a knowing giggle.
“Friends with benefits, remember?” Harrison meanders backwards towards the archway. “My girl has to get the benefits somewhere.”
His girl.
At his words, Jayden thaws, offering me a shrug when I flash my eyes to his.
“Go on, pick your poison and I’ll walk you around.” Harrison pauses in the glass arch, waiting for us while we grab drinks.
I’ve never been offered so many different types of green tea, nor heard of all the different roasts of coffee on the menu.
“You can leave your cups in any of the hatches along the way. If you wish to make a donation directly to the Women in Crisis foundation, the details are right here,” the bar tender-slash-barrista hands us a small booklet with a black and white portrait of a faceless woman embracing her pregnant belly.
It’s dark and gritty. The depth of the blacks and grays gives it a murky, oil-like quality.
“That’s Summer,” Finley murmurs at Jayden and me as we traipse toward Harrison. “That’s one of the portraits Alice shot of her.”
“It’s stunning,” Jayden muses, taking in the photo. “The way she captures the shadows is striking.”
With a nod, Fin adds, “It’s like she finds the darkness in her subjects and makes it beautiful.”
Hazel eyes peer at me beneath knitted brows. “There is something special about raw vulnerability.”
“It’s human,” Finley observes, threading her arm with mine while we follow Harrison through the archway to the exhibition.
JJ hovers close behind us, his warmth a steady backstop.
When we pause to take in the art, his hand flattens to the small of my back, his thumb caressing along the base of my spine.
Each time, I lean into his touch until he’s practically pressed to me, sandwiching me between his front and Fin’s back.
Warm and gentle, his palm drifts from my hip to Fin’s side, holding her flush to me while we move through photographs, paintings, sculptures. Floor to ceiling canvases of graffitied poems and abstract portraits, collages, and décollages.
As incredible as it all is, I’m totally focused on the feel of Jayden and Finley. The only things I ever want to spend my time staring at are my guy and our girl. They are the most precious things in this world to me. Bringing color and wonder into my world.
I stay lost in them until we step back into the sun and pile into Fin’s car. She insisted on driving; her new confidence is its own work of art.
I slide into the back. JJ takes a shotgun and keeps his hand on Fin’s thigh for the entire thirty-minute drive up to a restaurant in Malibu. Like his life depends on his hold on her.
As much as he tried to hide it today, he’s shaken after last night. I don’t blame him. I didn’t do it, but I thought about it. I was close until the blade felt heavier than my feelings and any of the crap around me.
How could something so heavy lighten anything?
It can’t.
The guilt of breaking my promise to JJ and Fin would be worse than all other feelings.
I should’ve put the razor away. Except all my strength went into not cutting myself, and I was so exhausted afterward that I couldn’t get myself up. I couldn’t move.
We’re almost at the oceanside restaurant when my phone rings. It’s loud, suddenly jarring the quiet. I can’t ignore it.
“Lex,” I answer while Fin turns the radio down.
“I’ve contacted Casey Cavanaugh’s agent like you asked,” he says right away.
“And? What did he say?” To say that I’m anxious about this is an understatement.
Salem may not be my friend, and I know I don’t owe her a thing. Nonetheless, she’s a twenty-one-year-old girl, pregnant with her dead lover’s baby, and with a husband who’s unhinged at best. If anything were to happen to her or her child, I wouldn’t be able to shrug it off.
“Brett confirmed that Casey was on the verge of securing a contract for next season with Chicago. He knows about Salem, that he wanted to take her home with him to his family, and he’s willing to reach out to the Cavanaughs.”
“But?” The tone in his voice says there’s something more. A stipulation, maybe?
“They’ve just lost their son… brother…” With a deep breath, he goes on, “He wants to wait a beat before approaching the family with this.”
“Lex, Salem’s pregnant with Casey’s kid.”
Fin parks the car a lot faster than I thought she could, before both she and JJ turn to look at me pointedly. His eyes bug and her jaw drops.
I didn’t tell either of them that I contacted Lex about Salem first thing this morning. As I go on, I place the call on loudspeaker.
“Surely they’d want to know that sooner rather than later? To know there’s a piece of him left for them?”
It seems weird to withhold the information from them when it could offer them some hope. Isn’t that what any heartbroken person would want?
“Eli, my hands are tied here. I can’t force Brett’s hand on this, and I think if we push it, that it could backfire.”
Lex has never led me astray. If he says his hands are tied, they’re tied.
“By a beat, what are we talking about? A few weeks, months… I mean, I don’t think Salem has more than a few months left before she gives birth.” Finley holds four fingers up, but I don’t correct myself.
“Like I said, ball isn’t in my court. I’ll give him a few days to get back to me before I contact him again.
In the meantime, I think it’s a good idea to keep her out of sight, and for the love of God, make sure Tomes doesn’t know she’s hiding out with you guys before the game,” he’s part begging and part warning.
“We’re going to put her up in a hotel until we hear from the Cavanaughs or she figures something else out.”
“Let me handle the hotel. It needs to be done under the radar. Next thing you know, the press will be digging for dirt and painting a sordid image of you guys falling apart or stepping out on each other—”
“She can stay in my apartment,” I say before thinking about it.
Finley opens her mouth to object, at the same time as Jayden slaps his hands to his face.
“It makes the most sense. Fin can come and go between the apartments without anyone knowing. Salem is safe, and also not under our feet. The place is empty anyway…”
Jayden levels me with a cocked stare while Finley’s bobbing her head in debate.
“It makes sense,” I tell them, only for Lex to ask, “Who are you selling that idea to? Me or you? It’s your place, do with it what you want, just don’t give me more work. Clean up is the bane of my existence.”
“Got it,” I retort.
“On the whole Ryker Hallman front, the information is useful. Makes me wonder what he has on Presley Tomes for his father to go out on a limb for him.” For a moment, I’m hopeful at his words.
Until he goes on to say, “Nevertheless, doesn’t help us nail the asshole or prove that he’s harassing you guys. ”
Fuck.
Of course it doesn’t. Even if I told him the full story, it would be useless without proof.
“Great.” With a huff, I shuffle to the door and let myself out. “Thanks for helping me out with the Salem situation. I owe you.”
The instant I end the call, Jayden asks, “You’re going to put her in the apartment across the way from our home? Like… how is that going to work?”
“How else does it work? We put her in a hotel, and the press photograph Fin going in and out all the time, they’re going to investigate.
” The screwed up expression on his face softens, and the vein in his neck shrinks a tad.
Whether he likes it or not, it only makes sense this way.
“Whether it’s Parker’s hotel or not, they will get suspicious, and eventually they’ll figure out there’s something there.
Then we’re not just keeping Salem out of sight, we’re worrying about Fin’s safety because Presley will come for us, and she’ll be the soft spot he preys on. ”
“Fuck, we’re so in over our heads with this.”
“What if the Cavanaughs don’t want Salem and the baby around?” Finley asks, looking between JJ and me.
“I don’t know,” is all I can say because it’s the truth.
“Fucking pray they do,” Jayden groans, hooking a long arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a playful kiss. His eyes are on mine when he snatches my hand up while he adds, “When we spoke about kids, I meant ours.”