The Final Gambit (The Inheritance Games #3)(70)

“That’s enough,” Grayson told me sharply.

“It really, really isn’t,” Jameson replied, blazing by my side.

“You know what this necklace means to me, Grayson,” Eve said, her fist covering the locket. “You know why I wear it. You know, Grayson. ”

“Don’t trust anyone,” I said, my tone a match for hers. “That was the old man’s message. His final message, Gray. Because if Eve’s here, Vincent Blake might not be far behind.”

Eve turned her body into Grayson’s, her every movement a study in grace and fury. “Who cares about Tobias Hawthorne’s final message?” she asked, her voice shattering at the end of that question. “He didn’t want me, Grayson. He chose Avery. I was never going to be enough for him. You know what that’s like, Gray. Better than anyone—you know.”

I could feel him slipping through my fingers, but I couldn’t stop fighting. “You pushed us to ask Skye about the seal,” I said, staring Eve down. “You’ve been asking around about deep, dark Hawthorne family secrets. You pressed and pressed for answers on Toby’s father—”

A single tear rolled down Eve’s cheek.

“Avery. ” Grayson’s tone was one I recognized. This was the boy who’d been raised as the heir apparent. The one who didn’t have to dirty his hands to put an adversary in their place.

Am I the enemy again, Gray?

“Eve has done nothing to you.” Grayson’s voice cut into me like a surgeon’s knife. “Even if what you’re saying about Toby’s parentage is true, Eve is not to blame for her family.”

“Then get her to open the locket,” I said, my mouth dry.

Eve walked toward me. When she got within three feet, Oren shifted.

“That’s close enough.”

Without a word to him, or to anyone, Eve opened her locket. Inside, there was a picture of a little girl. Eve, I realized. Her hair was cut short and uneven, her little cheeks gaunt. “No one ever cherished her. No one ever would have put her picture in a locket.” Eve met my gaze, and though she looked vulnerable, I thought I saw something else underneath that vulnerability. “So I wear this as a reminder: Even if no one else loves you, you can. Even if no one else ever puts you first, you can.”

She was standing there admitting that she was going to put herself first, but it was like Grayson couldn’t see that. “Enough,” he ordered. “This isn’t you, Avery.”

“Maybe, Gray,” Jameson countered, “you don’t know her as well as you think.”

“Out!” Mrs. Laughlin boomed. “All of you, out!”

Not one of us moved, and the older woman’s eyes narrowed.

“This is my house. Mr. Hawthorne’s will granted us lifelong, rent-free tenancy.” Mrs. Laughlin looked at her daughter, then at Eve, and finally she turned back to me. “You can fire me, but you can’t evict me, and you will leave my home.”

“Lottie,” Oren said quietly.

“Don’t you Lottie me, John Oren.” Mrs. Laughlin glared at him. “You take your girl, you take the boys—and you get out.”





CHAPTER 64

What is wrong with you?” Grayson exploded as soon as we were outside.

“Did you hear a word I said in there?” I asked, my heart breaking like cracking glass, bit by jagged bit. “Did you hear what she said? She’s going to put herself first, Grayson. She hates your grandfather. We aren’t her family. Blake is.”

Grayson stopped walking toward the SUV. He went stiff, attending to the cuffs of his dress shirt and brushing an imaginary speck off the lapel of his suit. “Clearly,” he said, his tone almost regal, “I was wrong about you.”

I felt like he’d just thrown ice-cold water in my face. Like he’d hit me.

And then I watched Grayson Hawthorne walk away.

A guy who thinks he knows everything, I could hear myself saying what felt like a lifetime ago.

A girl with a razor-sharp tongue.

I could hear Grayson telling me that I had an expressive face, telling Jameson that I was one of them, in Latin, so I wouldn’t understand it. I could feel Grayson correcting my grip on a longsword, see him catching my Hawthorne pin before it could hit the ground. I saw him sliding a hand-bound journal across the dining room table to me.

“Oren can post men to watch the cottage.” Jameson spoke beside me. He knew how much I was hurting but did me the courtesy of pretending he didn’t. “If Eve is a threat, we can keep her contained.”

I turned to look at him. “You know that this isn’t about Grayson and me,” I said, forcing the image of Grayson walking away out of my mind.

“Tell me you know that, Jameson.”

“I know,” he replied, “that I love you, and despite all odds, you love me.” Jameson’s smile was smaller but no less crooked than usual. “I also know that Gray’s the better man. He always has been. The better son, the better grandson, the better Hawthorne. I think that’s why I wanted so badly

for Emily to choose me. For once, I wanted to be the one. But it was always him, Heiress. I was a game to her. She loved him.”

“No.” I shook my head. “She didn’t. You don’t treat people you love like that.”