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“How are the rest of your siblings taking it?” Mykie asked.
“Ellanora is scared out of her mind since she’s convinced that whoever killed our father is after the rest of the family. Mother dearest is beside herself because she feels responsible, and she makes sure everyone in her immediate vicinity knows it. Renly… you know how he’s taking it.”
“How about your other brothers? Don’t you have two older ones?” Caspar questioned.
“Alaric is devastated, as he was pretty close to our father. Kellan, on the other hand, is worried about what he’s going to do with the business, since it automatically goes to him as the oldest,” Ryker explained.
“You didn’t tell me that. I thought Madeleine was going to continue to run it,” Mykie said, already thinking of the complication involved with working with someone new.
“I didn’t know until this morning.”
“Does he want to keep it?” Mykie asked.
Ryker snorted. “Madeleine wouldn’t let him sell it, even if he wanted to. Kellan’s been working with Earl for a while and helping him run the business by flying to meet investors, so it’s more about being present for meetings with clients now, instead of helping with decisions behind the scenes.”
Ryker pulled up in the driveway, and Mykie was surprised to see how many cars were lined up outside the Harper house. She hoped that they were all weirdos that traveled by themselves instead of carpooling, or the house would be packed when they got inside.
He parked the car at the end of the line. Before she could move, he laid a hand on her leg before hopping out of the car to circle to hers. He pulled open her door and held his hand out to her, a pleased look on his face. "It's my job as a proper southern gent to help you out and escort you to the door."
She grinned and accepted his help, clasping his hand. Once she was standing up beside him, he tucked his arm through hers and laid his hand on top of hers on his elbow.
“You aren’t a southern gentleman,” she disagreed. “Unless you mean south of hell.”
“I assure you, that I am. I spent most of my childhood growing up in Georgia,” he said, laying it on thick.
"Then why is your accent different than Renly's?" she asked, looking up at him.
Caspar's hand brushed against hers as he moved to stand next to her. She wrapped her hand around his and squeezed it gently. He squeezed back, sensing her nervousness as they walked toward the house, sending her silent reassurance through the feeling.
"My accent kind of faded when we moved up here and I was around all the thick New York accents and the Cantil," he explained.
Mykie nodded. "I've never been anywhere outside of New York. Is it different, Georgia compared to New York?"
"I can't remember much of it, but we lived near a ranch. The area we lived in was much more of a farm area than the cities of New York. Renly wasn't born until the move to New York, though, so any southern twang is from too much time at Madeleine's hip when he was young."
Caspar let go of her hand and opened the front door. There was a rush of chattering voices, and a few heads turned as they stepped inside the house. The first thing Mykie noticed was that while Renly's color scheme in his house was earthy and leather tones, the Harper house was decorated in all white. She couldn't help but cringe at the thought of five rambunctious children running around in an all-white furniture house. It's just asking for trouble.
Ryker unwrapped his arm from around hers and moved to her lower back as he guided her through the living room.
"Ignore the staring," he murmured in her ear. "They're just sticking their nose in business that it doesn't belong in."
She nodded, steeling herself. She wouldn't let a few judgmental glances get to her. She looked over her shoulder, and she noticed that Caspar hadn't followed her. Shrugging her shoulders, she allowed Ryker to push her towards the dining room, which was less populated.
“I still can’t believe you’re letting your quest for answers come to a head at my father’s funeral,” Ryker muttered.
"Speaking of that, where are your buddies?" she asked, looking around the room. She hoped her expression came off as aloof, but she knew she was failing from his expression.
"Buddies?"
"You know," she waved her hand in a circular motion as she tried to figure out the words she wanted to say. "All your Vulture friends. I'm sure there's one or two of them here just to rub it in that your father is dead because of them. It seems like that would be something they'd do."
"I'm not sure if they'd decide to come. The king gives a lot ofsuggestions, but there's nothing that says that they had to follow what he says in those instances," he said.
Mykie turned her head towards the living room just in time to see a patch of red in the sea of blondes and brunettes.
She was about to point out her observation to Ryker, but he spoke up before she could. "Actually, I believe I've spotted someone already."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her away, in the opposite direction of the Red Devil. He was probably right to do it, as the other Vulture had only given her spotty answers before. Who was to say he’d give her what she wanted now?
