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June 14 - June 23, 2024
“Why was my grandfather, a Texas billionaire with a whole host of private chefs on call, eating at a hole-in-the-wall diner in a small Connecticut town that no one’s ever heard of?” My mind raced. “You think he was looking for something?” Jameson smiled deviously. “Or someone. What if the old man went there looking for Toby and found you?”
I will always protect you, he’d told me. But this… us… It can’t happen, Avery.
The trick to being abandoned was to never let yourself long for anyone who left.
“Fancy meeting you here, Heiress.” “You,” I told him, “are the most annoying person on the face of the planet.”
“Just try not to get caught by the Laughlins,” I told him. “Don’t you know by now, Heiress? I never get caught.”
“Why would anyone keep an adoption a secret?” Xander sounded truly baffled. That was a good question, but I could barely process it, because all I could think, over and over again, was that if Toby Hawthorne wasn’t biologically related to the Hawthorne family, then he didn’t share one ounce of their DNA. And neither would his child.
He’s my father. The words came. Finally. Brutally. I couldn’t unthink them. Every sign pointed to the same conclusion. I forced myself to say it out loud. “Toby Hawthorne is my father.”
“He can’t talk until I cease On Spake,” Jameson told me. “Let’s just cherish the sound of silence for another moment.” A vein in Grayson’s forehead pulsed. “Come on,” I told Jameson.
“You two aren’t actually going to fight, are you?” I asked warily. I turned to Xander. “They’re not actually going to fight, are they?” “Who can say?” Xander replied merrily. “But perhaps you and I should wait outside in case this gets ugly.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I insisted. “Jameson, this is ridiculous.” “Not my call, Heiress.” “Grayson!” I said. He turned to look at me. “I really would prefer you wait outside.”
Est unus ex nobis. Nos defendat eius. As I’d suspected, it was Latin. An online translator told me that it meant It is one of us. We protect it. Jameson’s response, Scio, meant I know. It only took me one more search to realize that the same translation would hold if it was replaced with she. She is one of us. We protect her.
“Do you trust me, Heiress?” Jameson had donned a leather jacket. He looked like trouble. The good kind. “Not even a little,” I replied, but I took the helmet from his outstretched hand, and when he climbed onto the motorcycle, I climbed on behind him.
The idea that this was her punishment for an attempt on my life was infuriating. “Easy,” Jameson murmured beside me as he knocked on the door. “We need her to talk.” Talk first, I thought. Have security remove her from the premises later.
“So, to summarize,” Max said, “the dead uncle? Not dead, might be your father. Hot boys are also tragic, everyone wants a piece of your fine ash, and the woman who tried to have you killed is foxing your father?”
“It’s okay to go after what you want.” “Who says I want anything?” I asked. “My psychic senses,” Max replied. “And that picture.”
Or…” He flashed me a ridiculous smile. “I could beckon you to the dark side through the overwhelming power of my charisma.”
“You have a theme?” Max piped up beside me. “Is it smash the patriarchy? I hope it’s smash the patriarchy.” “I like it,” I told Max. “Why don’t you come up with some talking points?”
“Like the antique compass Xander’s hiding in his pocket?” Xander scowled at her. Max reached for the pastry platter and beaned Xander with a croissant. “Holding out on us?” she demanded.
“Not really. He wants the mystery. He wants to keep me close until he can use me. I’m a part of the puzzle to him.” “But…,” Max prompted, “would you like to be used by him?”
“No,” Max corrected. “You and I are friends. Grayson is the physical manifestation of your avoidant attachment style. He won’t let himself want you. You don’t want to want to be wanted. Everybody stays at arm’s length. Nobody gets hurt, and nobody gets any.”
He left his fortune to a total stranger rather than leaving it to me. What else could I possibly need to know?” Zara didn’t seem so formidable now.
“Heiress.” Suddenly, Jameson was standing between me and the wall. I tried to stop, but couldn’t in time, and my fist connected with his chest. He didn’t even blink.
“Tell me what you need.” Jameson wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t being cryptic. He wasn’t using me, in any way that I could tell. I let out a long, effortful breath. “I need to take this damn wall down.” Jameson nodded. He looked past me to Oren. “We’re going to need a sledgehammer.”
I never got the chance to finish that sentence, because the next thing I knew, Mrs. Laughlin was hugging me, holding on to me for dear life.
“I mean, yeah, things happen for a reason, but most of the time that reason isn’t fate or because it was predestined. It’s because the world sucks, or someone out there’s being an asshole.”
“We all make decisions, and those decisions affect other people. They ripple through the world, and the more power you have, the greater the ripple. Fate didn’t choose Avery.”
This was what it meant to be a Hawthorne. This should probably be in a museum, but my brothers and I like to hit things with it instead.
You love fairy tales, I know, but I can’t be your happily-ever-after. We can’t stay here in our little castle forever. You have to find a new castle. You have to move on. You have to live, for me.
“When you’re ready, if you’re ever ready, if it’s going to be me—just flip that disk. Heads, I kiss you.” His voice broke slightly. “Tails, you kiss me. And either way, it means something.”
