He pulls off his helmet and rubs the heel of his palm against his temple. “Yeah. Just a little dizzy.”
“You shouldn’t have ridden all the way. I should’ve called a driver.”
Dax hangs his helmet on the handlebars. “Don’t do that to yourself. I wasn’t leaving the bike behind no matter what you said.”
I clutch his hand, leading him up the steps. “Let’s just get you inside. You can finally get some rest.”
Dax rocks his jaw and dawdles behind me. “Are you sure this will be okay?”
“It’ll be fine,” I say to myself as much as to him. When he’s still doubtful, I gesture at the manor. “It’s not like we don’t have the room.”
Dax’s nerves diminish, taking in the grandeur of my home. “I guess that’s true.”
The front doors burst open, and I assume it’ll be Murphy. The wind is knocked out of me when my father races toward us.
“Get away from my daughter!” he yells at Dax.
Dax drops my hand, but I don’t unravel from his arm. I’ve never seen such fury in my father’s eyes.
A chill runs down my spine. “Dad, why are you yelling?”
“Why are you with this boy?”
I gulp, feeling like I’ve committed a crime. “We’re friends.” It comes out in a feeble tone. “Dad, he needs help. He’s not well.”
“Then I’ll have a driver take him to a hospital,” Dad says gruffly.
“No, he can stay with us,” I insist. “Just like Christie’s family does.”
“No, that’s ridiculous. He’s leaving now.”
“I knew you’d do this!” I cry. “You let Ash’s girlfriend stay here, but you won’t take in someone special to me.”
“This isn’t even close to being the same thing. I let an employee and his family stay here.”
“And you let Ash and Christie be together.” I choke on a sob. “Admit it. You love Ash more than me.”
Deep lines crease my father’s forehead. “Why would you say that?”
I step in front of Dax. “Because you’d never tell one of Ash’s friends to leave. Why are you being like this?”
“Because I know where he’s from.” Dad shoves Dax away from me. “You need to leave. Now!”
I gasp as Dax stumbles backward. “No, he needs to come in.”
“Murphy!” Dad calls. “Call the police!”
My jaw drops in disbelief. “The police? He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Dad points a finger at Dax. “I’ll give you ten seconds to get off my property, or I’ll make sure they lock you up.”
“Dad!” I yell as Dax gets back on his bike. “He needs our help. He’ll…”
“Murphy!” Dad cuts me off.
My vision blurs with the sting of tears, and I turn my back on my father. I dash to Dax’s motorcycle and pull on my helmet. “Let’s get out of here.”
He stares at me for half a second, making sure I’m certain. When my expression turns pleading, the motorcycle revs. My shoulders jolt as we take off.
