A Ruthless Game | Grayson Hawthorne x reader

13

     "Jameson! Is she okay?" I felt Oren looming over me.

     "She- She's bleeding," Jameson stuttered.

     "Let me look," Oren demanded. Jameson moved out of the way, and Oren examined my shoulder. "You're lucky. The bullet only hit the corner of your shoulder and exited." I watched as Oren searched the forest floor. Suddenly, he bent down and picked something up. "The shooter is long gone, but this can help us narrow down our search." In his hand, he held a bloody bullet. Oren pulled out a walkie talkie and spoke into it. "I need a team in the north quadrant asap. Hurry!" His voice was filled with urgency. "Even though your wound is relatively harmless, you're still losing more blood than I'd like. We have to get you out of here. Fast."

     A few minutes passed, and soon two men arrived on ATVs. Oren told them where the shots had come from, and the two men set off in that direction. Oren hopped on the ATV. Jameson assisted me on the back. Then, he climbed on, too. When Oren starting driving, though, he was taking us away from Hawthorne House.

     "Where are we going?" I questioned.

     "Wayback Cottage."

     "Y/n..." Jameson whispered in my ear. His voice was filled with sorrow and regret. "I- I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"It's not your fault. You had no way of knowing," I soothed him. He let his forehead rest on my healthy shoulder.

A few minutes passed, and we arrived at the cottage. Oren knocked on the door. Mrs. Laughlin answered it and quickly let us all in. We all sat around the kitchen table.

"I'm going to stitch you up now, okay?" Oren asked from the chair next to me. I just sat there staring off. "Y/n?"

"Hm? Oh, do want you need to do." My shoulder was throbbing. My shirt was covered in blood, and I began feeling light headed. My mind and heart were racing. I couldn't calm down or stop fidgeting.

Someone shot me. Someone wants me dead.

Oren poured disinfectant in my wound. I winced as the liquid touched my skin. Even though Oren had given me a local anesthetic, that couldn't stop the pain I felt as Oren ran the needle and thread through my skin. I winced again and gritted my teeth.

Beside me, Jameson grabbed my hand. I heard him murmur something about giving my pain to him. So I did. I squeezed his hand. My nails dug into his skin. I rested my head on his shoulder as Oren continued to stitch my shoulder. A few tears fell from my eyes as I tried to bite back the pain.

I heard the door open, and two pairs of footsteps entered. I soon learned one of the pairs belonged to Mr. Laughlin, but the other person wouldn't come close enough for me to learn who they were.

• • •

     "All done," Oren said.

     Mrs. Laughlin brought me over a cup of tea. "Here you are, dear. There's a bathroom down the hall. You can clean yourself up back there." She led me down a hallway, through a room with two beds, and into a bathroom. Then she left, leaving me all alone.

I could hear a man yelling at someone in the kitchen. I recognized the voice, but I couldn't figure out whose it was.

I looked in the mirror. My mascara had run down my cheeks, dirt covered my face, my hair was mess, and blood soaked my sweater.

I let out shaky breath and gripped the countertop so hard my knuckles turned white. "Somebody wants me dead," I whispered. But who? I shook my head. I couldn't think of that right now; I wouldn't. I glanced in the mirror again. Right now, I needed to get myself cleaned up. But I couldn't move.

The yelling in the kitchen had ceased. I could hear footsteps approaching. The faucet turned on, and a warm rag was held up to my face. I looked up, and my eyes met Grayson's.

"You don't have to do that," I whispered, physically unable to talk any louder. "I'm okay."

"You just got shot. You're not okay." Grayson continued to gently wipe my face. He was so careful like if he rubbed too hard I'd crumble right there. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

"It's not your fault. You had no way of knowing."

There was brief pause as if Grayson was contemplating what he should say next. "It seems I've misjudged you, Ms. Pierce."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asked.

"Call me Ms. Pierce. It's annoying. It's not like I call you and your brothers Mr. Hawthorne." I looked away. "Look, I know that I don't belong here. I know that, but everyone else constantly acting like I'm some parasite still hurts." Grayson just stared at me. He parted his lips to speak, but it looked like he couldn't find the right words. "Just forget I said anything." I pushed passed him and headed for the door. Before I got there, though, he gently grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.

"I think you've proven yourself to this family time and time again," he spoke. Now only mere inches separated the two of us. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin as he breathed. "Though I feel I should remind you, us Hawthornes break everything we touch."

I looked into his silver eyes and whispered, "You're not going to break me."

Grayson took a step closer so that my back was now up against the wall. His eyes lowered and lingered on my lips. He put the rag down on the counter and took his now free hand and put it on my cheek. I shouldn't have done what I did next. I know that. But in that moment, I didn't care about shoulds and shouldn'ts.

     I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. He kissed me back. Hesitantly at first then harder and more passionately. I ran my fingers through his dirty blond hair. Everything about this, about him, was just wrong enough to make it feel right.

Grayson broke away first. "This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here," he stammered and quickly left the bathroom. And just like that...

I was all alone again.

I didn't understand Grayson. How could he go from trying to dig up every dirty secret I have to kissing me and telling me I belong to abandoning me in a bathroom?

     I glanced up and flinched when I saw a figure standing in the doorway...

     Rebecca