brutal | grayson hawthorne

the worst will

***
Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift
***

"We shouldn't be doing this," she giggles against his mouth, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"Then tell me to stop," his voice is low, his heart beating too fast for comfort.

She just smiles into their kiss.

***

"Sorry I'm late, I didn't know I was supposed to be here," Liz has made worse first impressions.

She just barely slips through the door when everyone - the four Hawthorn brothers, their mother, aunt, uncle, three lawyers, four bodyguards, and two girls Liz has never seen before - turn their heads to look at the intrusion.

She knows Xander is going to be affronted later, assuring he's maybe mentioned in passing perhaps in a dream that her presence was mandatory for the will reading of his late grandfather, Tobias Hawthorne, but she's not thinking about that as she tries straightening out her tiny dress while taking a seat beside the more fun looking of the two new girls without causing anymore interruption than slamming open the door, scraping the chair against the floor as she pulled it out from the table, and offering a small 'hi' to the blue-haired girl beside her.

"Now that we're all here," Liz recognizes an Ortega of McNamera, Ortega, and Jones clearing his throat at the head of the table. "We may begin."

He goes on to say more words, everyone gets a letter to be opened at the end of the reading, Liz learns one of the new girls' names is Avery Kylie Grambs, and she assumes the one she's sat next to is her sister.

The Laughlin's are the first to be named in the will, but Liz just looks down at her lap as the older couple lean into each other in content at what they've acquired.

John Oren, who Liz has only interacted with once despite the abundance of time she once spent in Hawthorne House in his presence, also received a considerable amount of money - however not by Hawthorne terms - and toolbox that will definitely have deeper significance at some point in time.

Skye and Zara Hawthorne got basically nothing, which meant everything to Liz, and she's surprised she didn't burst into laughter at their indignation.

Next came, "to my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee."

Harsh. Liz shifts slightly in her seat as the air around the girl one seat away from her shifts the entire energy of the room.

Everyone seems suspended in time at the revelation, so there's no objections to interrupt Mr. Ortega's next words, "to my dearest family friend, Elizabeth Raine, conservatorship to the Hawthorne Foundation."

Liz doesn't really know what she is feeling, but it's something between shock and excitement and guilt and then arrogance when Grayson makes a choking, gasping, coughing noise. Then upset that this is happening to her. . . to him. Then fear, because it looks like Zara is ready to leap across the room and throttle her.

Everyone is too hung up on what Mr. Ortega will say next that they don't notice the eternity long look that Grayson and Liz share, probably the first one they've shared since. . .

Taking control over the Hawthorne Foundation meant too much. Taking control over something that was meant to be Grayson's for their whole lives was too much in itself, and after everything that has happened?

Liz is too caught up in her own thoughts that she almost misses: "the remainder of my estate, including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs."

"That's even worse than mine," Liz thought she was worried for her life, but she probably has nothing on Avery who has to deal with the chaos that's just ensued.

Zara's probably still on a rush from the whole situation with what Liz inherits, and is the first to aggressively seethe, "who the hell is she?"

Avery seems to be asking herself the same question, and after multiple declarations that the will is iron-clad and no amount of lawyers or courtrooms can change the outcome, she walks out The Great Room, leaving everyone else still reeling from what just went down.

Liz looks down at the envelope addressed to her still in her hand.

She notices the room get emptier as everyone realizes there's nothing left to say really. And soon it's just her and one other body that she could recognize in her peripheral from his breathing alone.

She opens the envelope instead of acknowledging Grayson's presence, but almost rolls her eyes at the irony.

Elizabeth,
Turn to Grayson.
Love, Tobias Hawthorne

She's sure he couldn't have meant literally, but she tucks the letter away and looks up to see Grayson already staring at her, his piercing gray eyes unwavering.

"Why you?" Liz thinks those are the first words he's said directly to her in ages. She would say 'words that aren't an insult,' but something in his tone tells her not to get ahead of herself. Like it shouldn't have been her. Like she's undeserving of it.

"He used to call me his future daughter-in-law," she knows that doesn't really answer him, but how could she? How could she prove herself to be worthy of taking control of the charity-driven Hawthorne Foundation as if she didn't practically steal it from right under his nose?

She almost tells him what her letter says, but she suddenly feels too vulnerable about it. Insecure, maybe. How awkward would it be if his doesn't even mention her?

He swallows, and Liz wishes she could say she hadn't seen some emotion in his stance, but she could always read him past the armor he put up around others.

"I'll tell Aunt Z to help you," he turns to walk out the door.

"Wait," Liz will call it human instinct taking over. "What if she murders me when we're alone in a room together?"

Did she just make Grayson Hawthorne laugh?

Suddenly the Liz from the summer before last takes over her mind, and she knows she's staring at Grayson the way she used to when she was waiting by her phone for his calls.

Staring at him the way she knows she shouldn't be.

"I'll see what I can do," is all he offers her, like he can't make any real promises, and he can't spend a second longer in the room with her.

She doesn't really blame him.

a/n:
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