Page 86 of The Hawthorne Legacy
He turned back to Oren. “What are your feelings on roofs?”
Ten minutes later, Jameson and I were back on top of the Art Center. He rolled out the turf and teed up a ball.
“Keep away from the edge,” Oren told me, and then he turned deliberately away from us both.
I waited for Jameson to ask me about the postcards. I waited for him to flirt with me, to touch me, to Jameson Hawthorne the answer out of me. But all he did was hand me a club.
I lined up the shot. Part of me wanted him to come stand behind me, wanted his arms to wrap around mine. Jameson on the roof. Grayson in the maze. My mind was a mess. I was a mess.
I dropped the club.
“My mother was Kaylie Rooney’s sister,” I said. And so it began. It was hard to put into words everything I’d learned, but I managed. The more I said, the easier it was to see Jameson thinking.
The more he thought, the closer to me he came.
“What do you think Toby left in Jackson that’s worth so much?” he asked. “And where in Jackson?” Jameson studied me like my face held the answers. “How long did Toby’s amnesia last? Why stay ‘dead’ once his memory returned?”
“Guilt.” I almost choked on the word, though I couldn’t have explained why. “Toby loathed himself almost as much as he loved my mom.”
That was the first time I’d said that last bit out loud. Toby Hawthorne loved my mother. She loved him. It had been an epic, seaside kind of love. Literally. Just knowing that made me feel like I’d been lying to myself every time I’d pretended that I didn’t have feelings, that things didn’t have to be messy.
That I could have what I wanted without ever really longing for anything, body and soul.
“Heiress?” There was a question in Jameson’s deep green eyes. I wasn’t sure what he was asking, what he wanted from me.
What I wanted from him.
“Knock, knock!” Xander stuck his head out the door to the roof. “I just happened to have my ear pressed to this door. I might have overheard some things, and I have a suggestion!”
Jameson looked like he might actually throttle his brother. I glanced at Oren, who was still pointedly ignoring all three of us. I could practically hear him thinking, Not my job.
“Call her!” Xander tossed something at me. It wasn’t until I’d caught it that I realized it was his phone—and a number had already been plugged in.
“Call who?” Jameson asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Your grandmother,” Xander told me. “Like I said, I inadvertently overheard some things while my ear was casually pressed to this steel door. Kaylie Rooney’s mother is your grandmother, Avery. That’s a piece of the puzzle we’ve never had before, and that”—he nodded to the phone—“is her phone number.”
“You don’t have to call,” Jameson told me, which made about as much sense as the fact that he’d willingly stepped back from the postcards.
“Yes.” I swallowed. “I do.” My heart jumped into my throat just thinking about it, but I hit the Call button. The line rang and rang and rang, with no one picking up and no voicemail. I couldn’t bring myself to hang up, so I just let it ring, and then finally someone answered. All I got out was a hello and my name before the person who’d answered cut me off.
“I know who you are.” At first I thought the gravelly voice belonged to a man, but as the words kept coming, I realized that the speaker was a woman. “If my worthless daughter had taught you the first damn thing about this family, you wouldn’t dare have dialed my number.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting. My mom had always told me that she didn’t have a family. But still, each word her mother—my grandmother—spoke cut into me.
“If that little bitch hadn’t run, I would have put a bullet in her myself. You think I want a dime of your blood money, girl? You think you’re family? You hang up that phone. You forget my name. And if you’re lucky, I’ll make sure this family—this whole town—forgets yours.”
The sound on the other end of the line cut out. I stood there, the phone still pressed to my ear, frozen.
“You okay there, buddy?” Xander asked.
I couldn’t reply. I couldn’t say anything. You think I want a dime of your blood money, girl? You think you’re family?
I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing.
If that little bitch hadn’t run—
Jameson came up beside me. He put his hands on my shoulders. For a second, I thought he might force my eyes to his, but he didn’t. He walked me over to the edge of the roof. The very edge, close enough that Oren called out, but in response, all Jameson did was spread my arms to each side, until his and mine were both held out in a T. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. “Breathe.”
