brutal | grayson hawthorne

back to business

***
Dear John by Taylor Swift
***

The next day, they have established that the next step in the plan is to go through the countless files Tobias Hawthorne had on the people who were on his List - people who may or may not have wanted to murder him.

Oren had gathered everything they'd need in the solarium, and Liz is glad for the change in scenery, especially since the room was built in a way that her, Grayson, and Eve were all at opposite ends of the makeshift circle the group had made.

They all had their own piles of folders to go through, looking for anything that could stand out to them, and they'd each made it through three or four files after a couple hours, and the only information that Liz was collecting was that Tobias Hawthorne was kind of a horrible man.

She almost doesn't want to figure out what the USB he left her means. She's almost scared of him. Of what he's capable of.

For every business he ran or invested in, he would make his workers sign contracts that made it virtually impossible for them to work for anyone other than him, and then he would ditch that company for the next, bigger, better business the industry had to offer.

Liz drops her last folder in the completed pile dejectedly, some papers shifting around underneath the force.

A name peaks out from towards the bottom of the pile.

Connor Raine. Liz's father.

Liz immediately reaches for the papers, her tunnel vision only breaking when Grayson reaches across the circle and closes a hand around her wrist after she's picked up the file.

"I already looked at that one," he says, staring directly into her eyes, unwavering. Knowing.

She stares at the folder instead of him.

"It's has my father's name," she says, as if he needs to hear it. As if that isn't the reason he's trying to keep it from her right now.

She can feel the other's in the circle looking at the two. This is the first they've directly interacted in front of them all since. . . well, you know.

"There's nothing of importance," his voice stays all-business, but Liz can feel in his touch how badly he needs her not to open the file.

"This is why he left," and all of a sudden she's the only one in the room. It wasn't her. It wasn't her mother. Tobias Hawthorne ran her father down to nothing, like he'd done with all of his workers in the past, and Liz spent her entire life thinking that the fairytale love her parents once had was fake. Maybe it was fake. Maybe not. The only she way could get a modicum of more answers was through this file.

"Lizzy," Grayson's nickname for her brings her back to life. She realizes his hand is still on her arm. This is nothing to him being shirtless on her floor last night, but for some reason it's all she needs to clear her mind.

"Okay," she breathes, dropping the file, still not letting her eyes meet his.

***

"You know what I can't believe?" Grayson is treading the water as Liz sits on the edge of the pool, dipping her feet in, the two sitting in silence that night, not really knowing what to say until Grayson speaks up. "That the old man knew about Eve. And he knew what life must've been like for her. And he still didn't do shit about it."

"Yeah," as much as Liz hates Eve, even she was getting a little wary of who she once thought Tobias Hawthorne was.

"I used to tell myself that he loved us," Liz doesn't think she'll like where Grayson is going with this. "That if he held us to impossible standards, it was the noble purpose of forging his heirs into what we needed to be. And if the great Tobias Hawthorne was harder on me than on my brothers, I told myself that it was because I needed to be more. I believed that he taught me about honor and duty because he was honorable, because he felt the weight of his duty and wanted to prepare me for it."

Liz slips into the water completely, so she can move closer to Grayson.

"But the things he did?" His voice gets hard. Harsh. "The dirty little secrets in those files? Pretending that our family owed Eve's family nothing? There's nothing honorable about that. Any of it."

Liz thought about Grayson never allowing himself to break because he knew the man he'd been raised to be. She thought about how she used to find him so perfect.

"We don't know how long your grandfather knew about Eve," Liz feels the need to provide comfort in whatever way she can muster, but Grayson still won't look at her. "If it was recent, if he knew she looked like Emily, maybe he thought it would be too painful-"

"Maybe he thought I was too weak," and now that Grayson is looking at her she wishes she could look away. "That's what you're saying, Liz, as hard as you try to make it something else."

Liz.

Even after the night in the wine cellar when they saw each other again. Even for 13 months after Emily died. It was always Lizzy.

"Grief doesn't make you weak, Grayson," Liz isn't deterred - physically at least. She's close enough to reach a hand out.

"Love does."

Liz decides to keep her hands to herself. Pretending those two words didn't stab her deeper than everything he said in the wine cellar did.

"I was supposed to be the one above it all. Emotion. Vulnerability. It was supposed to be me," his voice is ragged, like his words have the same affect on himself as they do on Liz.

Liz doesn't think she'd be able to form a coherent sentence if she tried.

"I had to be better. I had to sacrifice and be honorable and put family first, why I could never lose control - because the old man wasn't going to be around forever, and I was the once who was supposed to take the reins when he was gone. And I understood - I did - why the old man might've looked at this family, looked at me, and decided that we were unworthy of his legacy," Grayson's voice shook. "I understand why he thought I wasn't good enough. But if the great Tobias Hawthorne wasn't honorable? If he never met a line he wouldn't cross for his own selfish gain? If 'family first' was just some bullshit lie he fed to me? Then why?" Liz hates how their eyes meet. "What was the point of any of this?"

"I don't know," Liz's voice comes out unrecognizable. "But there must be an answer somewhere-" she thinks about the USB he left her.

"More games," Grayson's mind goes to the same place bitterly. "The old bastard's been dead a year, and he's still pulling the strings."

Liz finally puts a hand out.

"Don't," Grayson breathes, turning around and lifting himself out of the pool. "I told you, Liz, I'm broken. I won't break you too. Forget about that USB. And even the file. Stop playing the old man's games."

"Grayson-"

"Just stop."

That final in a way nothing else between them ever had.

She didn't say anything.

She didn't go after him.

She started swimming laps in the pool.

a/n:
grayson is so would've could've should've coded and also castles crumbling