Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Once in the house I see Carson, still wearing his coat, some dirt on his cheek. He waves us down the hallway to his father’s office, where I spent a chunk of a day dealing with that media woman.
I signal to my own cheek with my eyes on him. He nods his thanks and pulls a handkerchief from his inside pocket.
Elijah and his wife as well as Grace and Derek’s father are already in the office. Naomi and her husband as well as Jonah are behind us.
“Police will be here soon. I’ll announce before bringing them in,” Carson advises me and Derek as well as the family members behind us. “We want the immediate family together in the office for that. After that, we’ll receive guests in the solarium where Mrs. Steele will be for those who want to have a moment with her.”
“What’s the plan for her, Dad?” Jonah asks. “Since the cemetery is up in fucking flames.”
“Your mother will stay in the solarium tonight,” Derek’s father says from his office chair where he sits, looking every bit like a CEO, though with a look in his eyes that’s so angry, cold, and also grief-stricken that I don’t think I’ll forget it for the rest of my life.
“She’d want to be there. It was her favorite room in the house,” Grace says softly.
She looks stricken, pale, traumatized. So does Naomi. And Sabrina. I probably do, too.
My chin trembles. This is so awful. Derek wraps his arms around me and holds me closer. His body is trembling. I don’t know if it’s adrenalin, anger, the tremor, or all of it.
Asher arrives, swiping a hand through his hair as he comes in. His tie is gone, his top few buttons are undone, and he moves straight to the bar cart in the corner. There’s a discordant clang making all eyes in the room move in his direction and we watch as he opens a decanter and starts pouring a drink.
“I’ll have some of that,” Jonah says, walking that way.
Elijah follows.
Ash carries a large glass of amber liquid straight to his father, who accepts it without speaking. He goes back and sets up several glasses and pours.
Derek shakes his head as Elijah holds a glass out.
Elijah’s eyes hit my face with question, still holding the glass.
“Brandy instead, ladies?” Carson pipes up.
“Yes, please,” I say.
“I’ll have a bourbon, too,” Grace answers.
“Me, too,” Sabrina says.
“Nothing for me,” Naomi whispers, arms wrapped around herself before she goes to the fireplace and turns a button on the mantle, making it spring to life. She sits down on one of the big, comfortable-looking leather chairs there, giving the rest of us her back.
Her husband moves over there and squats, talking softly to her.
I can’t get over the uncanny resemblance between Josh and Asher. It can’t be just me that thinks it.
Asher passes me a brandy.
“Thank you,” I say.
Michael speaks up. “Get yourselves together, kids. I’ll talk to the police with all of you here, so you all know the exact script, then go out there and receive our guests. It’s what your mother would have wanted.”
Script?
“If I had a dollar every fuckin’ time I heard that,” Derek mutters under his breath.
Asher scoffs and I’m pretty sure it’s in agreement.
“What’s that, Derek?” Michael calls over, looking absolutely pissed.
“How about you give us five fucking minutes before we have to worry about appearances, Dad?” Derek snaps.
Michael’s gaze goes even colder. “Who do you think you’re talking to, son?”
“Oh shit,” Grace mutters.
Derek shakes his head with disgust. “Who gives a fuck what the guests think? You think they might understand that we need a minute when we lost her, and her funeral got attacked with drone fucking warfare.”
“The last thing I need right now is bullshit from you, Derek,” Michael points at him.
“Bullshit from me?” Derek asks, then laughs. Dangerously. All eyes in the room are on him. His arms are still around me, but his whole body is trembling now.
I take a big gulp of the brandy in my hand.
“Whoa, let’s settle d-down,” Grace gets between us and their father, visibly upset.
“Who’s trying to hurt us?” Naomi asks, no… demands. She’s looking at Elijah.
“We’re dealing with it,” Elijah answers. “Derek, cut it out.”
“Fuck you, Eli,” Derek snaps.
“Whoa,” Jonah says. “We’re all on the same side here. Can we try to remember that?”
Naomi gets louder. “Someone ran over Mom and Dad and now tried to… what… kill all of us in the cemetery? Who out there hates us enough to want to ruin the graves of all our dead family members, too?”
“It’s more of the same, isn’t it?” Ash calls out, pouring another drink and then downing it. “Not sure how we’ll spin this in the media though.”
“Watch it, Asher,” Michael warns.
Carson speaks up. “Might I suggest we speak to the police, then after we receive guests and spend an hour or two with them to honor Mrs. Steele, that you all stay here tonight, where we all know we’re under one roof? And safe. I’ve already asked the team to prepare all of your rooms.”