Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Thayer opened the door before I could reach him.
My parents stood on the front step, perfectly composed in the morning light. Their expressions were polite, but their eyes were calculating, scanning the interior of Thayer’s house with barely concealed distaste.
“Hadley.” My father spotted me behind Thayer. “It’s time to come home.”
My mother’s gaze flicked over Thayer’s broad shoulders and the leather vest hanging on the back of a kitchen stool. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “We had to piece together your location through a rather unpleasant conversation with one of your racing acquaintances, who told us about the accident. Pack your things. We’ll wait.”
I stood frozen in the hallway, the happy warmth from minutes ago draining away. I fought the need to smooth things over, my fingers twisting in the hem of Thayer’s shirt as I stepped forward. “I’m fine. Really. It was just a small accident at the track, and Thayer—Dr. Duvall—made sure I was taken care of.”
My mother’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of his title, as if even that professional credential couldn’t outweigh the motorcycle club patch she’d clearly noticed. “Optics matter, Hadley. You’ve been gone for days. People are starting to ask questions after you missed an important function a few nights ago. Your father has a donor dinner next week, and we cannot afford any complications.”
“Complications?” Thayer echoed, his tone carrying an unmistakable edge as he remained planted in the doorway, not inviting them inside.
My father lifted his chin. “We appreciate whatever medical assistance you provided, but our daughter belongs with her family. Our family’s reputation cannot be tied to motorcycle clubs and underground racing. It’s unseemly.”
I knew that tone. They weren’t afraid I’d been hurt but of how it looked. The perfect politician’s daughter shacking up with a biker doctor was a headline they needed to bury.
My mother’s voice sharpened with practiced patience. “Hadley. Now.”
I felt myself wavering, the ingrained pull toward obedience tugging hard at my chest. But before I could force a single word past the knot in my throat, Thayer shifted his stance, placing his body more fully between my parents and me without making it look like a deliberate barrier.
The subtle movement somehow changed the entire power dynamic in the entryway. My father’s shoulders stiffened, and my mother’s perfectly manicured fingers tightened on her handbag strap.
Then Thayer murmured, “She’s not going anywhere.”
My father’s brows drew together. “Excuse me? This is a family matter.”
“It stopped being a family matter the moment you showed up at my door demanding she leave with you. Not because you care about her well-being, but about how it looks.” There was steel in Thayer’s tone. “Hadley is safe here. She’s staying.”
My mother let out an incredulous laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “Safe? With a man who runs with a motorcycle club? Doctor or not, the associations alone are toxic. We have a reputation to protect, and so does our daughter. She has obligations. A future that does not include…whatever this is.”
Thayer’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’re worried about reputation? Interesting. Because I know things about Hadley’s past that might make your carefully built image look a lot more fragile than a few pictures of her with me.”
I blinked, confusion cutting through the anxiety churning in my stomach. I had no idea what he could be talking about.
My father’s chest puffed out. “I don’t know what you think you know, but you’re overstepping.”
“Am I?” Thayer tilted his head slightly, still perfectly composed. “Shell company payments. A surgeon who lost his license for unethical work. Ring any bells?”
My mother’s complexion paled beneath her flawless makeup. My father’s jaw clenched so tightly I could see the muscle jump. For the first time in my life, I watched both of them falter.
They exchanged a lightning-fast glance, the kind they used during tense campaign strategy sessions when something threatened to derail the narrative.
My mother recovered first. “This conversation is inappropriate and none of your concern. Hadley, we’ll discuss this at home.”
“She’s not leaving,” Thayer repeated. “And if you push this, I’ll make sure every detail I’ve uncovered sees the light of day. Optics, right? You understand how that works.”
The silence that followed was deafening. My father’s shoulders dropped a fraction, and my mother’s fingers loosened on her bag. They were backing down. Not because they suddenly cared about my happiness, but because Thayer had just shown them he held something over their heads.
I was the only one out of the loop on whatever they were talking about.
“We’ll give you time to think, Hadley. But this isn’t over.” My father looked at Thayer, cold calculation in his eyes. “You have no idea what you’re involving yourself in.”
Thayer didn’t flinch. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
My parents turned and walked back to their sleek black car without another word. I stared at the empty doorway, confusion and unease swirling through my head.