Chapter 3 #2
I reminded myself Miles was engaged; he wasn’t mine and was never going to be mine. I owed him for the way I pulled the rug out from under him a year ago. I’d repay that debt and walk away. No hard feelings, no pining. I almost believed myself.
The Winters’ house was as close as Eugene came to an estate— a three-story stone mansion with pillars and numerous gables, surrounded by wide landscaped grounds, two outbuildings, and an ornamental but tall iron fence.
I cruised past. Floodlights illuminated the grounds in the winter dusk, and one of the outbuildings was brightly lit, but the main house sat dark and quiet.
I parked a hundred yards down the block, in front of another property almost as big but not fenced, and hustled back.
Miles stood inside the driveway gates, and when I arrived, he opened a human-sized door beside them and waved me inside.
I hurried through, driven by the urgency of his gesture, and he swung the door shut behind me.
Miles turned, and for the first time in a year, I was looking him in the eyes. The urge to grab him and kiss him came out of nowhere, in vivid, painful reflex. I wrestled that bad idea down and nodded. “Miles.”
“Hey, Logan. Looking good.”
That was bullshit, with me coming off a long roadie with too little sleep, on top of a bad year. I just said, “Thanks. How can I help?”
“This way.” Miles strode off toward the bright outbuilding and I trotted to catch up to him. “This is Avery’s studio. She’s an artist.”
“I’ve looked up some of her work,” I admitted, although that made it obvious I’d been quasi-stalking him.
“She creates a lot of big pieces, and uses metal and wood. She has a bunch of artworks in here.” He opened the door to the barn-like structure and gestured me inside.
Banks of overhead lights revealed a row of sculptures mummified in swaths of plastic wrap, surrounded by some undefined machinery. “Uh. Cool.” I wasn’t sure what the wrapped look was supposed to symbolize, but then art had never been my thing.
“Huh? Oh.” Miles laughed. “Yeah, no, they’re packaged up for moving. We’re clearing this place out tonight.”
“You are?” I turned in a circle. “Looks like a big job.”
“Yeah. Fuck. And time is tight.”
“Where’s, um, Avery?” Saying her name shouldn’t have choked me. “Doesn’t she want to supervise?”
“Desperately, yeah, but she’s at a party with her dad, pacifying and distracting him. He…” Miles paused. “He doesn’t know we’re doing this.”
“Gonna be hard to hide.”
“I don’t care, after the fact. Avery’s needed to move out for a long time. Her dad’s kept her here, under his thumb, because he controls her studio, the big pieces, all her equipment. She never dared stand up to him, always pretended to go along. That stops tonight.”
“Miles, I hate to break it to you, dude, but you and me are not going to load all this into a van in one night.”
“No, of course not.” He grinned momentarily.
“I paid a transport company a ton of money to bring a bunch of guys. They’ll be here in fifteen minutes.
But Avery’s been sending me an SOS. She’s still not good at coping with her father, and he’s treating her like shit tonight, thanks to all the cheating stories.
She’s worried what he might do, threatening to make her break it off, talking about confining her to the house.
She needs me at the party, but someone has to be here for the movers. ”
“I want to help but…” I looked around at all the stuff stored in the studio. “What goes, what doesn’t?”
“Avery has all the pieces and equipment marked.” Miles pointed to an actual happy-face sticker on the plastic shroud of one of the artworks. “Anything with a happy-face goes. Anything with a red sticker stays.”
“You’re sure I won’t get busted for burglary or something?” I had visions of the cops rolling up as I left a gated property with a truck full of equipment.
Miles passed me a folded envelope from his pocket.
“Avery wrote that out for the movers. Authorization, and receipts for the equipment that’s in her name.
She’s bummed to have to leave the lathe and one of the lasers, but her dad bought them for her.
Since then, she’s asked for the money and bought her own supplies. So the rest is legit to take with us.”
“Okaaaay.” I stuck the envelope in my jacket. “And you’ll bail me out if the cops don’t buy that?”
“I’ll absolutely bail you out.” Miles shoved my shoulder.
The thump of his hand, the playful way it rocked me, cascaded memories.
Maybe for him too, because he took a big step back and folded his arms. “Anyhow, I need to go. I’ll give you the code for the gate to let the movers in, and then it’s just pointing them at things. ”
“Knowing movers, something could get broken.”
“Avery’s aware.” Miles glared off into the distance. “This has to work. She needs to get out. Losing a piece or even two is worth it, to escape.”
“There’s not, like, mansion security or someone who’s going to show up and stop us?”
“Hopefully not.” Miles’s crooked smile was not fully reassuring.
“Her dad has a driver and a bodyguard with him whenever he’s out.
When he’s home, they do perimeter security, but right now, both of them are at the party.
They’re counting on passive monitoring, the cameras and alarms. Avery turned off everything she could.
Our plan is to distract them enough at the party that they don’t have time to monitor any remaining video surveillance, but that’s why I need to be there.
Avery can’t confront her dad loudly enough to keep his attention, let alone the bodyguard’s. ”
I turned in a circle again, cataloguing all the shit that needed to be moved, my hand on the envelope in my pocket. A big fight with one of the richest men in Eugene wouldn’t make me popular with the Gryphons’ ownership. Those rich guys all watched each other’s backs.
I could still say no and walk away.
Except I’d walked away from Miles once before and hurt him badly.
If Miles had a shot at happiness now, with Avery, I was fucking well going to give him that chance.
If it put my career in jeopardy, well, realistically, how many years did I have left?
I was never going to make the NHL, so what did it matter if a second-rate ECHL player retired early?
I’d help Miles and Avery find their happiness, even if it killed me.
“Okay,” I told Miles. “Got it. Go rescue your girl.”
“You’re sure?” He stared at me, and I stood straighter under the intensity of his gaze.
“Positive.”
“God, Logan. I can’t believe… We need to talk, but after, all right?”
“Okay.” My chest ached. I wasn’t sure I could get through a heart-to-heart with Miles about how I’d fucked us up, especially if the goal was for him to forgive me and move on with Avery.
But I’d worry about that later. “Come on, give me the info I need and get your hot ass in gear.” I flinched.
“Oops, not hot ass. Just you. Let’s go.”
Miles opened his mouth to say something, but his phone chimed and he took a fast look. “Fuck. Okay.” He typed quickly. “I told her I’m on my way. Come on, I’ll show you the gate controls.”
I jogged after him back down the driveway, cursing all my decisions for the last year.