CHAPTER 17: DR. ALAN PIERCE
1075 Words
JADA
“Where are you going?” Horace asked.
I shoved my hands deep into my coat pockets and whirled toward the door. “To the hockey stadium obviously, Mr Wallace.”
“No.” Horace’s voice cut through the air before I could even take a step.
“The doctor who helped forge my report works around Zayden right now,” I said, stepping toward him. “I am not going to sit in this penthouse while the men in my life decide what I am allowed to do or not.”
Horace blinked. He sat behind his desk, completely still. “You were kidnapped less than twenty-four hours ago. You nearly fainted twice today. You are staying here.”
“Then I will faint at the stadium,” I said, slamming my hands flat on the dark wood. “At least I will be productive there.”
Horace leaned forward, his large shoulders blocking the light. He looked at me like I was testing his very last nerve. “You say things like that and still wonder why people call you reckless.”
“People call women reckless when they move without permission,” I answered.
The room went completely quiet. His jaw tightened, a small muscle twitching under his dark skin. He was furious, but he did not yell. The silence between us felt heavy and hot.
Horace grabbed his car keys from the desk and looked down at me. “We will go together. You stay behind me, and you do not speak to the staff. Those are my terms.l
I did not argue. I just nodded.
A minute later, Jordan walked in and dropped a paper shopping bag onto the bed. Inside was a pair of black trousers, a plain gray sweater, and a heavy wool coat.
I pulled the sweater over my head and zipped the trousers. I checked myself in the mirror. The fabric did not bunch at my waist, and the hem hit my ankles exactly. They had my exact measurements down to the inch, and nobody had even asked me for them. My jaw tightened as I buttoned the coat. They were watching me that closely.
Nora leaned against the door frame, watching me button the coat. “You look scary in a good way. Let's go. I am coming too.”
Horace stepped into the hallway, pulling on his jacket. “You are not coming, Nora. You are not cleared for this facility.”
Nora rolled her eyes and shoved her hands into her pockets. “I got past your entire lobby security with a container of soup yesterday. Clearance is a mindset.”
Jordan walked up behind Horace, his face totally blank behind his eyeglasses. “That is not how security works, Miss Nora.”
“It worked yesterday,” Nora shot back, stepping right into his space.
“Yesterday was a mistake that we fixed,” Jordan said, his voice completely flat. He stood perfectly straight, blocking her path to the door.
Nora groaned and looked at me. “Fine. Call me if you need someone to throw hot coffee directly at Zayden’s face.”
~
I sat right next to Horace in the back seat. I did not want to, but Jordan was driving and there was no other place to sit.
The space was very tight. Every time Jordan turned the car, our knees almost touched. I turned my head to look out the window, trying to ignore how close he was.
“What kind of woman was I at these stadiums?” I asked, watching the skyscraper buildings pass by.
Horace shifted in his seat. “You were sharp. You were loud when you needed to be, and you were impossible to ignore.”
I turned to look at him. “Is that a compliment?”
“It depends on who had to deal with you,” he said, his deep voice dropping lower.
“Did you deal with me a lot?”
“More than I should have,” Horace answered.
The words hung between us in the dark car. I turned back to the window, but I caught his scent again. He smelled like black coffee and expensive cologne.
Suddenly, a sharp memory flashed in my mind. I saw bright theatre glass under big stadium lights. I felt Horace’s large hand flat against my lower back, guiding me through a crowded room. In the flash, Zayden was skating far away on the ice, but my heart was beating too fast for the older man standing right behind me.
I blinked hard, and the memory disappeared. My palms were sweating inside my coat pockets.
~
The hockey world came alive the moment we stepped through the side doors.
The hallway was full of noise and movement. Broad-shouldered players walked past carrying heavy gear bags. Sports agents whispered into their phones against the walls. Team staff ran between offices, and wealthy sponsors stood around wearing custom team jackets.
I did not remember any of them, but my body knew the rhythm of the place. My eyes moved naturally across the crowd. I noticed who walked with fake confidence, who avoided eye contact, and who was trying too hard to look important.
Horace stayed right at my elbow, watching me. I could see the quiet approval in his eyes as he noticed me analyzing the room.
“Jordan,” I said, keeping my voice low. “What is the doctor's name now?”
Jordan looked up from his tablet. “He changed it to Dr. Alan Pierce. He is currently working as a team wellness consultant.”
I repeated the name Alan Pierce, but it meant nothing to me. But a second later, Jordan showed me a photo of a middle-aged man with thinning gray hair and small, watery eyes.
My stomach turned over instantly. A cold wave of recognition hit my throat. My body remembered him, even if my mind did not.
~
We found Dr. Pierce near the entrance of the medical wing, holding a clipboard.
He turned his head as we walked up. The moment his eyes landed on my face, he went completely pale. His clipboard tilted in his hand, and his mouth fell open.
I kept my face relaxed and stepped right into his path. “Doctor,” I said, my voice smooth. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Am I a ghost?”
- Writer
