Lies Twist The Way We Think

Chapter 25 - More Alike Than You'd Think

By the time Grayson finishes speaking, my head is spinning with pictures and ideas. I can see exactly how his mind works— and it is disturbingly like my own.

I suppose we are alike in many ways. There is a similar emptiness that only he would understand.

"Why not try a bigger approach? I get it isn't a long term solution," I say, "but if you calculate the risk, there is a strong chance that the impact is much more effective."

He listens and thinks about it. "I suppose it could work with the right empirically driven cost-benefits analyses."

I love when he uses the big words, I think, and then, Do you ever shut up, Camille? Grayson Hawthorne is off-limits for me. I don't even know why I would think that. Sure, he's beautiful. He's like a work of art. I could stare at him constantly and find something new to marvel at. But that doesn't mean I feel anything towards the blond personification of disapproval.

His phone rings, and he glances down at the screen. His posture is relaxed, and I briefly wonder if it is because he trusts me a little more now. Not that I care.

"Nash," he informs me.

"Go ahead," I tell him. At this point, I need a break—from him, but also from this. Math, I understand. But this? This is real. This is the overwhelming responsibility of my choices. This is power. One hundred million dollars a year.

Grayson answers his phone and leaves the room. I hesitate briefly, but then I decide to walk the perimeter, looking at the maps on the walls, memorizing the names of every country, every city, every town.

A hand-drawn map catches my eye, and I realise it is of the Hawthorne estate. I notice Wayback Cottage on one of the maps, given to the Laughlins in the will. My attention is drawn to the Black Wood forest, and a small creek named the Brook on the western edge of the estate.

Black Wood. West Brook.

"Camille," Grayson speaks behind me. His voice is soft, lowly.

"What?" I say, unable to fully tear my mind from the map—and the implications.

"That was Nash."

"I know," I say.

Grayson lays a hand gently on my shoulder. Alarm bells ring in the back of my head. Grayson hates me. And I brace myself, because someone who hates you is never nice to you unless they're about to hurt you.

"It's about your sister."

C. R. D. - M. L. T.

The moment we get to the car, I grab my cell phone. My hands are almost shaking with all the rage that is building up inside of me. Oren starts driving without me telling him to.

I hold the phone to my ear. "You said you'd take care of Drake. You said you were dealing with it." My tone is harsh, too harsh. Grayson looks at me with surprise in his features. I know I'll feel embarrassed later, but I haven't the time to care about that.

Dean seems out of breath. "Camille, I swear I had him under control. He said he wouldn't go. I told him the idea was shit. That you'll fucking end him."

"Well obviously, that didn't fucking work. Guess why? Because he's here, Dean, in Texas. Care to explain?"

He's quiet. "I didn't know. I had no idea. I'm so sorry, Cam."

"Forget it," I say with a sudden tiredness. "Just...take care of Layla. Keep yourself out of trouble. Once this is dealt with, you gotta do something. This is the second time."