Page 58 of Shattered Souls
My eyes go wide, and I sit up straighter as I realize going in Logan’s place tonight would have put Royce in the firing line—where Bertram would have found out about the fake rape accusation. I hadn’t even considered that he’d go digging for dirt on any of them.
“Shit, Royce. Youhaveto stay out of his line of sight. He can’t know you’re involved in any of this.”
“Sweetheart, he’s going to put it together sooner or later. I agree, it’s better not to hand him the ammunition by walking in his front door, but sooner or later, he’ll realize Logan lives with his son and that you’ve been staying at our house. Even if I’m simplythe roommatein his eyes, it’ll be enough.”
My stomach sinks as I scramble to think of a way to protect him, the way he’s always protecting me.
“What if I go back to staying in the apartment? Logan can visit me there, and we can just… I don’t know. See each other on campus?” I wince, hating the idea even as the words leave my mouth.
The corner of Royce’s eyes soften with affection. “Not happening, James. You can go back to staying in your apartment if that’s what you want, but there’s no way I’m letting Logan steal all your nights.”
“She’s not going back to her apartment,” Grayson all but growls, ruining the tender moment. “Even with the security cameras, I don’t trust my dad. Not if he’s paying off the landlord. He could have gotten a key to her place or anything.”
Fuck.
I shiver at the notion, not having considered that. At least Grayson’s cameras have been in place since before his release, so we know he hasn’t been inside the apartment, but Grayson is right. He could have a key and is just waiting for me to be home alone.Fuck that!
Grayson pins me in place with a look that clearly shows he expects me to argue, but for once, I hold my hands up in surrender. “You’ll hear no argument from me. Now that we know his intentions, I have no plans on making it easy for him to lock me inside his house.”
A war plays out on Grayson’s face before he finally settles on a self-satisfied smirk. “See, it’s not so difficult to comply with me. Perhaps you’ll be more inclined to do so in the future.”
I snort. “Don’t hold your breath.” Bringing my finger to my lips in contemplation, my eyes widen. “Or maybe you should. Save us all the two dozen headaches you’re bound to give us in the future.”
Our typical back and forth is enough to break the heaviness that had descended over the table. “Burn!” Logan jests, cackling like an idiot and holding his hand up for a high-five while Grayson huffs in annoyance, and Royce smothers a smile behind his hand. “Enough of this depressing talk. Did someone say something about celebrating?”
Dropping his hand, there’s a genuine smile on Royce’s face and a glint in his eyes that promises trouble—hopefully not the violent kind—as he sets a handful of bills on the table and slides out of the booth. “If you’ll all follow me, we’ll get the celebrations underway.”
16
RILEY
“Breaking and entering wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I asked if you had any ideas,” I hiss as Royce leads the way along the deserted corridor of the Timberwolves stadium. Despite trying to keep my weight on my toes, the echo of our footsteps bounces off the concrete walls, and the air is thick with the musty scent of damp cement and the faint remnants of popcorn and hot dogs.
“I don’t know what you mean, James,” he responds with a roguish quirk of his lips. “We’re just celebrating.”
Logan is too busy practically jumping on the spot as he takes everything in like he hasn’t been to the Timberwolves stadium before when I know for a fact he has. It’s cute to see him so excited. He deserves that. Deserves to behere.Playing for the team of his choice, even if it’s not the best team in the league. I have no doubt he willmakeit the best team.
Since it’s after hours, the crowd, players, and staff are long gone. The corridor is dimly lit, with just a few emergency lights casting long shadows that dance along the walls. I run my fingers along the cool surface, feeling the rough texture beneath my fingertips. The quiet is almost oppressive, broken only by thesoft hum of distant machinery and the occasional creak of the building settling.
As we approach the end of the corridor, I can see the faint glow of the stadium lights ahead, spilling through the open doorway. Excitement billows in the air as we all hasten our steps until we’re stepping through the threshold. The vast expanse of the empty hockey arena opens up before us. Usually filled with the excitement of the crowd and the thunder of skates on ice, it now stands silent, a giant monument to the thrill of competition and the passion of the game.
Rows upon rows of empty seats stretch out around us, a midnight blue and silver sea of plastic and metal. Each is a silent witness to the countless games and cheers held here. More blue and silver banners hang from the rafters, each proudly displaying the fierce Timberwolf logo—a symbol of strength and tenacity.
The rink below is a perfect rectangle of pristine ice, illuminated by the overhead lights that cast an ethereal glow over the howling wolf painted at center ice, announcing this as the home stadium for the Timberwolves—in case the team’s colors everywhere didn’t give it away. My gaze slowly wanders over the arena as I take a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs. I let the moment wash over me as I envision it full of people, with Logan skating in his new colors alongside his teammates to the crowd's roar.
Banners are proudly displayed on the walls, showcasing past victories and retired numbers. It adds a sense of history and tradition, and a smile lifts my lips, knowing one day soon, Logan will be contributing to those victories. To the history of this arena. This team. It’s pretty monumental when you stop and think about it.
Logan isn’t simply joining a team. He’s making history.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” Logan murmurs, awed by the sight before him. Stepping forward, his eyes scan the expanse as a wide grin slowly stretches across his face. His voice is barely more than a whisper in the cavernous space, yet it carries the reverence one often hears inside a church.
I shake my head, unable to find words to describe the awe and wonder I feel. For a moment, we all simply stand there, soaking in the atmosphere, each of us lost to our thoughts.
Logan descends the stairs toward the rink, and quietly, we follow. Our footsteps echo in the expansive arena until we reach the plexiglass separating us from the ice. Logan simply stands there, staring out across the rink like he can’t believe he’ll be playing here one day soon. Grayson and Royce claim seats at the end of the closest aisle, but I step up beside Logan, threading my fingers through his.
“I can’t wait to come to every home game,” I say after a moment.
As though blinking out of a trance, Logan looks down at me, and a lascivious grin takes over his face. “I can’t wait to see you in silver and blue.”
