"Don't worry, baby," she says, now stroking her fingers down my cheek. I nuzzle into her touch, finally feeling for the first time that I don't have to face Father's wrath alone. "This time, you've gotallof us behind you."
"Thank you, love," I say, leaning forward to place my lips to hers.
Just then a knock sounds at my window, startling her and making her pull away. I fight to not roll my eyes and open the car door, stepping out to Hendrix who's got his hand out and a stern, no-nonsense look on his face that's usually present in a King Dynasty board room.
"Hey, Henny," I greet, reaching into my back pocket.
I pull out the letter and hand it to him just as Teresa walks to us, leaning in to give me and Melody a hug, who'd just appeared on my other side. The security's footsteps crunch on the pea gravel as they form a circle and step to the side to give us a minute to group ourselves.
Hendrix reads quietly to himself, and Isobel steps out of their car with her cell to her ear.
"Yeah, Mom, I'll let you know as soon as we're headed home." She leans in to hug us next, leaning in from the side so as to not press into her pregnant belly. "Yeah, okay. Okay.Mom, don't worry; we've got it!Love you, too. Bye. Hey, you guys. Sorry to see you like this so soon after your honeymoon," she says, giving Melody a once over.
"Hey, Iz," Melody greets quietly, shrugging her shoulders. "It's alright."
"So, what's the game plan?" Teresa asks, her eyes bouncing between me and Hendrix.
"Well," I say, "I figured since Melody's the one who found the letter, Ishould start-"
"No."Hendrix shakes his head, folding the letter back in half, meeting my gaze. "No, Mason, I think it's best you let me start off. You know how Father….gets…." he trails off, clearing his throat and flicking his eyes to Isobel and Melody who have adopted similar, worried expressions at the reminder of Father's temper. They haven't been on the end of it, or really seen much of it to be honest.
I have a feeling they won't be able to say that after tonight.
"If you insist." My voice is clipped as I slide my hand in Melody's and grip tight. "Let's go get it over with."
As we make our way to the front door, it swings open as our parents’ butler, no doubt tipped off by our security team, welcomes us to the home. "Mr. Kings, Mrs. Kings," he reclines his head at us. "Please come inside. I have alerted your father of your arrival, and he is waiting in the study."
He turns to lead the way, but I pull ahead with Melody in tow.
"No need to accompany us, Jefferies; we know the way," I say. "Thank you."
An eerie, uncomfortable feeling swells inside me the further we journey down the hallway. The lights seem lower than usual, giving the home a rather oppressive feel. It's in direct contrast to the cheery brunches we attend where there's plenty of light and servants milling about to laugh and chat with.
I briefly wonder if this is how it feels when we're not present at King Compound.
Wasting no time I push through the door to Father's study, Melody's hand tightens around mine as both Father and Madre come into view. As our eyes meet, something tells me to keep quiet, so I don't even bother to open my mouth to greet him. I wait until both of my siblings and Isobel pour into the study behind me.
A bright fire is going to the side of the room, and I fight to keep my muscles from clenching. I hate Father's office, and for the last three decades of my life I've done everything I could to stay out of here. A visit to Father's office meant one of two things: an ass whooping or a promotion. And considering I just started officially working for the family two years ago, well.
Enough said, right?
So the fact that we're all in here right now makes my skin crawl. As does the look in his eyes. Madre stands next to him, dressed in a simple gown covered by a robe, letting me know she didn't even bother to change into regular clothes. It eats at me that she can't even let us be alone with him for any length of time in here. And has always inserted herself between us and Father, as if we needed her for a buffer.
Well, I guessIdid.
Caution mars his features. Highlighting, at least with Hendrix and I, how he always treated us in a business sense first. Never letting us close. The loosest he lets himself get is during holidays or the birth of one of our kids, other than that, he always has a guard up. And where I thought he once favored Hendrix, after two years within the family business, I've seen that he's also held my brother slightly away from him as well.
Hendrix and I are no different. He's just more respected because he'd been the more responsible one.
And in a way my heart breaks for Father, because if what I'm gleaming from that letter is correct, his own father was abusive to the point he killed his sister, and then attempted to kill him as well. My heart tugs as empathy for Father bleeds in alongside the spite that has lived in my heart for so long that it only began to abate when I metMelody.
To know that his abuse led him to make him not even bond with his own sons. To set us apart and not let us close.
"Fuck,"I mumble, feeling a headache gathering between my eyes.
Suddenly this seems like a bad idea.
Father's eyes roam us slowly where we stand staggered but still on the other side of the room.
