Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
His eyes searched my face. “Staying with me.”
I nodded.
“My house.”
“If that is where you want me.”
His shoulders eased. His eyes cleared.
What in the world had I gotten myself into?
• Thirty-Six •
Sorry, Dad, but we never wanted the same things
Capri
Standing inside the Shephards’ mansion, I twisted my hands nervously.
Before we had gotten back, Stellan had been called, and the plan to disarm all that Thatcher had caused by taking me was set into place. Instead of me going to my parents to talk to them, they would come here. To the ranch. The law enforcement and media were also alerted. When we arrived, they were all in place.
I was taken into library at the Shephards’ home and asked questions by the detectives on the case. All surrounding the day I had left with Thatcher, previous interactions, our relationship, my working here, et cetera. I answered all of it honestly—for the most part. They didn’t seem to want to pin anything on Thatcher, and the fact that I was telling the media and my parents that I had chosen to go with him seemed to relieve them. I had worried about this part most of all because I was sure they’d want to get Thatcher for something.
Thatcher was waiting outside the door since he hadn’t been allowed inside. It had taken me pleading with him to calm down and to wait on me outside the door. When it opened, he pushed past the officer and came straight to me, pulling me to him and glaring at the others like they’d made it on his shit list.
Texting Esther might have been a mistake. I’d thought she’d want to hear from me, but she was short with me at first, then went off on me. She said she couldn’t support me ruining my life. That I’d hurt my parents and I had changed. She said she didn’t know this person I had become. She had said a lot of other hurtful things, but I knew that it was nothing compared to what I would face with my parents.
Knowing they were going to walk inside at any moment though, I was getting anxious. If they made any accusations toward Thatcher, I already knew I would say something that might shut them out of my life forever. I didn’t want that. I loved them. But they had always told me to tell the truth, and the truth I would tell them to shut them up wasn’t one any minister’s family wanted to hear their daughter admit. If it kept people from spewing lies about Thatcher, then I’d do it.
“I’ll send them all fucking home now. Say the word,” Thatcher said, grabbing my hands to keep me from twisting them.
“No, you won’t.” His father’s deep voice startled me. He’d been quiet, waiting behind us.
Thatcher started to turn, and I grabbed his arm to stop him. If he wanted the world to think he wasn’t crazy or dangerous, he had to stop acting like he was ready to rip off heads.
“He is right. This has to be done. But I need you to be calm. Please,” I begged.
He stared down at me before sighing and looking back toward the door.
“The media has been prepped. They’ve spoken to the officers. When the doors open, Clark and Charlene Jewel will enter, followed by the media we are allowing inside,” Ronan Salazar announced.
I nodded my head and wrapped my arm around Thatcher’s for his support more than mine. I had this. I could do it. I was ready.
“Maeme has done her best to soften them up, but she said they aren’t joyous about their daughter’s return and the news behind it,” he added.
He grabbed the door handle and opened one of the tall, ornate double doors. Thatcher felt like steel; his body was so rigid. I had to get this done and quickly.
My mother was inside first, and she paused the moment she saw the entry to the Shephards’ home. Her gaze shot up to the vaulted ceiling and chandelier. The wide, winding staircase and marble floor. My father was less impressed, and his eyes zoned in on me, then to Thatcher, where they narrowed, then back to me.
“Capri.” He said my name the same way he had when I was in trouble as a child. “Come here.”
I didn’t move. Thatcher started to, and I held on to him, putting all my weight into it.
“Dad, I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman. I left town and told you nothing. I’m sorry. It was a mistake. But you don’t get to come into the Shephards’ home and act like they’ve taken your teenage daughter from you.”
My mother finally stopped gawking at the foyer and looked at me. The firm line of her mouth told me that she was furious about my embarrassing them. In a small Southern town, the minister’s daughter, no matter what age, was to be above reproach. The entire family was under a microscope. Now that I’d run off with Thatcher Shephard and told no one, I had humiliated them. No God-fearing man would want me. I saw that as a blessing; they, however, would not.