The Fifth Hawthorne

Chapter Twelve

(Ashley's POV)

The moment I woke up, I knew something was wrong.
1. My twin was standing over the bed shaking me awake
2. Avery was sprinting across the front lawn.

Why was this weird? There was no way someone like Avery would run like that for no reason. 

"Get dressed, Ash. Avery's found something important," Jameson said, throwing a pillow into my face. A small grumble escaped my lips before I hauled myself up, every inch of my body stiff and tired. 
"I'm not going with you, Jamie."
"Why not?" A small smirk pulled on his lips.
"I'm not a rag doll to be thrown about and I'm pretty sure Avery will just want you there, no need for me to be anywhere right now."
 "All right, Ash, but we're talking when I get back."
'Of course we are' I thought my eyes rolling as he exited the room. 

My final silence was short lived when Xander came bounding into my room via the secret passage. 

"Ah, dear sister. I thought you would be up by now," he almost shouted, a large grin spread across his face. 
"What do you want Xander?" I mumbled from my desk, looking at my ruffled hair in the mirror to my left.  

"I saw Jamie earlier talking to Gray about the red print of the will. I thought you would want to explore what was happening inside said room," he announced, leaping onto the desk and placing himself cross legged in front of me.
I groaned and slammed my head down into what should've been the table, but instead ended up being Xander's ankle.
A frown slid onto his face, brow furrowed as he looked at me closely.

"What's wrong, Ash? You haven't been yourself recently and I'm starting think there hasn't been an argument as I suspected. You may not think I've noticed, but you've been down since the start of the week and I'm starting to think you're falling into depression."
"It's nothing, Xander, really. I just need space."

"It's Jamie," Xander called out matter of factly. "You're upset because he's been spending time with the Grambs girl and you're feeling left out because you used to do everything together and now you feel replaced by a girl who's mysteriously turned up out of nowhere."
Tears started to blossom in my eyes as I kept my eyes down on his crazy monster socks. Soon enough he was rubbing my back and trying to comfort me in the best way he could.
"Please don't tell him," I whispered, finally looking up at my brother.
"I would never, take your time with it. Now, cookies or scones with gin?"
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Within minutes we were down in the kitchens, tears now falling fast as we talked about the good and the bad times, scoffing down chocolate chip cookies and blueberry scones. 
The door opened to reveal Jameson, his mouth a tight line as he stepped inside, his hand reaching toward a slice of lemon tart Cook had just made. 
He looked up to see me and Xander bawling our eyes out as we revisited the memory of one of Grandfathers first real game he had created for my brothers. 

"Are you alright, Ash?" he asked, worry entering his eyes. 
"You look rather stiff there, Jamie. Have some of this." I handed him a glass of gin while taking a sip of my own. 
"You're drunk, Ashley. You never get drunk, are you ok?" The worry was now truly evident in his eyes. 
"We've never felt better, Jamie. You should loosen up, you're turning into Grayson," Xander slurred. 

"That Avery girl has got you all in a twist recently, I'm starting to think you fancy her," I butted in. 
Jameson narrowed his eyes before taking a swig and joining us. He got three full glasses in before he left with a large bottle of bourbon, a small sway in his steps. 
I tried to stand, only to fall flat on my butt again. We lay there laughing as both of us tried to stand again to leave the kitchen. We only got a few small steps before falling onto our faces again. 

(Avery's POV)

The solarium was an enormous room with a domed glass ceiling and glass walls. Jameson stood in the centre, bathing in the light and staring up at the dome overhead. The first time I had met him he was shirtless. Also like the first time I had met him, he was drunk. 
Grayson was nowhere to be seen. 
"What's the occasion?" I asked, nodding the bottle of bourbon in his hand.
"Westbrook, Davenport, Winchester, Blackwood." Jameson rattled the names off one by one. "Tell me heiress, what do you wake of that?"
"They're all last names," I said cautiously. I paused and thought why the hell not. "Your fathers?"
"Skye doesn't talk about our fathers," Jameson said, his voice a little hoarse. "As far as Skye's aware, it's an Athena-Zeus situation. We're hers and hers alone."