The Final Gambit (The Inheritance Games, #3)(18)

I had the sudden sense that this was Skye’s truth, as she saw it.

“But the more I needed love, the more I craved it, the more indifferent the world became. My parents. Your fathers. Even you boys.” Skye had told Jameson and me once that she left men after she got pregnant as a test: If they really wanted her, they would follow.

But no one ever had.

“We loved you,” Nash said in a way that made me think of the little boy he must have been. “You were our mother. How could we not?”

“That’s what I told myself, each time I got pregnant.” Skye’s eyes glistened. “But none of you stayed mine for long. No matter what I did, you were your grandfather’s first and mine second.” Skye helped herself to another sip, her voice becoming more cavalier. “Daddy never really considered me a player in the grand game, so I did what I could. I gave him heirs.” She turned her gaze on me. “And look how that turned out.” She gave a little shrug. “So I’m done.”

“You really expect us to believe that you’re just throwing in the towel?” Jameson asked.

“Darling, I don’t particularly care what you believe. But I’d rather rule my own kingdom than settle for scraps of hers.”

“So you’re just stepping back from it all?” I stared at Skye Hawthorne, trying to divine some truth. “Hawthorne House? The money? Your father’s legacy?”

“Do you know what the real difference is between millions and billions, Ava?” Skye asked. “Because at a certain point, it’s not about the money.”

“It’s about the power,” Grayson said beside me.

Skye raised her glass to him. “You really would have made a wonderful heir.”

“So that’s it?” Nash asked, looking around the massive foyer. “This is your kingdom now?”

“Why not?” Skye replied airily. “Daddy never saw me as a power player anyway.” She gave another elegant little shrug. “Who am I to disappoint?”





CHAPTER 16


The walk down the lengthy driveway was tense.

“Well, I for one found that refreshing,” Jameson declared. “Our mother isn’t the villain this time.” He could act like he was bulletproof, like Skye’s callousness couldn’t touch him, but I knew better. “My favorite part, personally,” he continued grandly, “was being blamed for never loving her enough, though I must say the reminder that we were conceived in a vain attempt to get a lock on those sweet, sweet Hawthorne billions never goes astray.”

“Shut up.” Grayson removed his suit jacket and hung a sharp right.

“Where are you going?” I called after him.

Grayson turned back. “I’d prefer to walk.”

“Eighteen miles?” Nash drawled.

“I will assure you—all of you—once again…” Grayson rolled up his shirtsleeves, the motion practiced, emphatic. “I can take care of myself.”

“Say that again,” Jameson encouraged, “but try to sound even more like an automaton this time.”

I gave Jameson a look. Grayson was hurting. They both were.

“You’re right, Heiress,” Jameson said, holding up his hands in defeat. “I’m being horribly unfair to automatons.”

“You’re spoiling for a fight,” Grayson commented, his voice dangerously neutral.

Jameson took a step toward his brother. “An eighteen-mile walk would do.”

For several seconds, the two of them engaged in a silent staring contest. Finally, Grayson inclined his head. “Don’t expect me to talk to you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jameson replied.

“You’re both being ridiculous,” I said. “The two of you can’t walk back to Hawthorne House.” I really should have known better by now than to tell a Hawthorne he couldn’t do something.

I turned to Nash. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” I asked him.

In response, Nash opened the back door of the SUV for me. “I call shotgun.”





Alone in the middle row, I spent the drive back to Hawthorne House in silence. Skye had definitely gotten to her sons. Grayson would turn that inward. Jameson would act out. I could only hope they both made it home unscathed. Aching for them, I wondered who had made Skye so desperate to be the center of someone’s world that she couldn’t even love her own children, for fear they wouldn’t love her back enough.

On some level, I knew the answer. Daddy never really considered me a player in the grand game. I thought back further, to a poem that Toby had written in code. The tree is poison, don’t you see? It poisoned S and Z and me.

“Skye loved being pregnant.” Nash broke the silence in the SUV, glancing back at me from the front seat. “I ever tell you that?”

I shook my head.

“The old man doted on her. She stayed at Hawthorne House for the entirety of each pregnancy, nested even. And when she had a new baby, it was like magic, those first few days. I remember standing in the doorway, watching her feeding Gray right after they got home from the hospital. All she did was stare at him, softly crooning. Baby Gray was a real quiet little guy, solemn. Jamie was a screamer. Xander wiggled.” Nash shook his head. “And every time, those first few days, I thought, Maybe she’ll stay.”