A Ruthless Game | Grayson Hawthorne x reader

14

"My grandmother sent me to check on you," Rebecca started from the doorway. Her strawberry blonde hair hung messily around her face. She wore mud-covered hiking boots and cargo pants.

She hadn't been accounted for at the time of shooting, I realized.

"I'm fine, thanks," I replied.

"She said you got shot."

I nodded.

"Emily would have loved that. Would have given her a story to tell."

Why was she telling me this, I wondered.

"I think Emily would have preferred to have been shot and killed to what really happened."

This is quite possibly the weirdest conversation I've had of my life.

I shut the light off in the bathroom and walked into the bedroom. There were two twin beds. Both with purple bedspreads. The walls were purple too.

"Did you share this room with her?" I asked.

Rebecca nodded.

"I take it all the purple was Emily's choice."

She nodded again. "Emily always got what she wanted. She was sick. Everyone just wanted to make her happy." Rebecca paused. "That was my only purpose. Was to make her happy. I was the healthy one, and since I had what she could never, I was obligated to give her whatever she wanted while she was here."

"Can you tell me more about her?"

"Emily was beautiful. She could light up any room she walked in. And since everything was always handed to her, she never had to choose between two things. Not even between them."

"What do you mean 'between them'?"

"Grayson and Jameson. They were both in love with her. She always got whatever she wanted."

"How'd she die?"

Rebecca paused briefly then looked at me. "Grayson said it was her heart."

Grayson said...

• • •

It was a few hours before Oren let me go back to the House. Oren along with three other bodyguards escorted me back.

"Security footage has given everyone of the family members an alibi for the shooting. None of them personally wielded the gun," Oren explained.

I took note of his wording. None of them personally wielded the gun. That doesn't mean one of them didn't hire someone to shoot me.

"I'm having the purchase histories of all the family members looked at as we speak. The main focus of my team though is the staff." I didn't even know how many staff members worked at Hawthorne House, let alone if any of them would want to kill me. "Mr. and Mrs. Laughlin are cleared."

"And Rebecca?" I asked. I waited Oren to tell me she was clear, but he didn't.

"Rest assured everyone will be looked into. We'll find whoever did this." We arrived at the House. "In the meantime, your security will be further enhanced. No going off alone," Oren said sternly.

Stepping off the ATV, I saw Alisa waiting on the front porch. She ran over to us.

"How is she?"

"She's peachy," I responded sarcastically. I looked between Oren and Alisa and couldn't hold it in anymore. "You told me I'd be fine!" I screamed. "Well, I'm not fine. I just got shot!"

Oren opened his mouth to say something, but he cut off by a member of the security team.

"Footage has revealed that none of the guns from the armory were taken. However, the armory did have two visitors," the man explained.

"Who?" Oren questioned.

"Jameson and Grayson, sir. They were examining the Winchester rifles."

The Winchester Rifles...

"Oren, I'd like to see the armory, please."

• • •

Oren led me through a long hallway, down an elevator, into the basement, passed a steel door. Then, he pressed a hidden button on the wall which opened a compartment that contained a retina scanner. Oren scanned his eye, and a large vault door opened automatically.

     "Woah," I gasped as I stepped into the room. Every weapon known to man was contained in this room. From ancient to modern. Muskets from colonial times, rapiers from the Thirty Years War, even a guillotine from the French Revolution. This place was like a museum. I put that aside and got back to reason I was even here in the first place. "Can I see the Winchester rifles?"

     Oren brought me over to a rich oak cabinet with a glass front. He pulled a key ring out of his pocket and unlocked the cabinet, revealing the rifles. I pulled each one out and examined it. Searching for something, anything, that could be a clue.

     Finally, on the second to last rifle, I found an engraving on the barrel.

     O.N.E.

• • •

Oren escorted me back to room and did a sweep of my wing before assuring me I was safe. Before he left he turned to me and sighed. "I understand," he said. "If you don't want me to work for you anymore. That's twice in the last 24 hours that I've failed to protect you from a threat. Your brother is right. It is my job to protect you, and I failed."

"Oren, that's enough. You're one of the only people I trust here. No one could have known that was going to happen." I paused. "It's no one's fault." Oren's face seemed to relax a little. Growing tired, I slowly shut the door and said good night.

• • •

     The next morning, I walked in the kitchen and immediately wished I hadn't. Aidan, Grayson, and Jameson all stood around the island. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. All three were passing dirty looks at each other while they ate.

      The door squeaked open as I walked in. All three turned to look at me. When my eyes met Grayson's, he quickly looked away, like he was afraid to make eye contact with me.

     I couldn't understand why Jameson and Aidan looked mad though. Did Aidan know I got shot? Did Jameson find out about the kiss?

"What?" I asked innocently. The three boys all looked uncomfortable, and I didn't know why. I wonder what they had been talking about before I entered the room. I walked over to the fridge and pulled out the crystal pitcher of orange juice then grabbed a glass from the cabinet and began to pour. I could feel Jameson's eyes on me as I did this; Aidan was, once again, staring daggers into him, and Grayson was looking at anything in the room but me. Finally, I couldn't take the tension anymore. "Okay, seriously, what's wrong?"

Grayson took one last sip of his tea then left the room without saying a thing. Following his lead, Jameson stood up, stuffed a croissant in his mouth and started heading for the door. Before he reached it though he said, "Take it easy today, Heiress." Then he headed out.

I slumped down at the island across from my brother. To take my mind off of whatever just happened in this room, I thought of the clues. Aside from Blackwood, there was only one clue left.

Davenport.

I pulled out my phone to see just what a 'Davenport' is. Turns out it is a type of desk, commonly used for writing.

Looking for something to boost my spirit, I presented with an idea.

"You up for some fun?" I asked Aidan and devilish smile growing on my face.