Jameson shrugged. “I’m a man of the world now.”
“Jamie’s right.” Grayson managed to say that without grimacing. “The only way we’ll get anything out of Skye is face-to-face.”
No one could hurt Grayson, hurt any of them, like Skye could. “Even if she is behind this,” I said, “she’ll deny everything.”
That was what Skye did. In her mind, she was always the victim, and when it came to her sons, she knew just how to twist the knife.
“What if you show her the disk?” Eve suggested quietly. “If she recognizes it, maybe you can use it to get her talking.”
“If Skye had any idea what that disk was worth,” I replied, “she definitely wouldn’t have sent it to me.” Skye Hawthorne had been almost entirely disinherited. No way was she parting with anything valuable.
“So if she makes a play for the disk,” Grayson stated archly, “we’ll know that she’s aware of its value, and ergo, not behind the abduction.”
I stared Grayson down. “I’m not letting any of you do this without me.”
“Avery.” Oren stepped out of the shadows and gave me a look that was part paternal, part military commander. “I strongly advise against any kind of confrontation with Skye Hawthorne.”
“I’ve found duct tape more effective than advice, myself,” Nash told Oren conversationally.
“It’s settled, then!” Xander said brightly. “Family reunion, Hawthorne style!”
“Uh, Xander?” Max appeared in the doorway, looking rumpled. She held up a phone. “You left this on your nightstand.”
Nightstand? I shot Max a look. I’d known that she and Xander were friends, but that was not a friendly kind of rumple. “Rebecca texted,” Max told Xander, conspicuously ignoring my look. “She’s on her way here.”
I was distracted enough by the idea of Max and Xander spending the night together that it took a moment for the rest to penetrate. Rebecca.
Seeing Eve would destroy Emily’s sister.
“New plan,” Xander announced. “I’m skipping family reunion. The rest of you can report back.”
Eve frowned. “Who’s Rebecca?”
CHAPTER 15
Oren drove, and Nash sat shotgun. Two additional bodyguards piled into the back of the SUV, which left me in the middle row with Jameson on one side and Grayson on the other.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on a flight back to Harvard right about now?” Jameson leaned forward, past me, to shoot his brother a look.
Grayson arched an eyebrow. “Your point?”
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Jameson said. “Tell me that you’re not staying because of Eve.”
“There’s a threat,” Grayson snapped. “Someone moved against our family. Of course I’m staying.”
Jameson reached around me to grab Grayson by his suit. “She’s not Emily.”
Grayson didn’t flinch. He didn’t fight back. “I know that.”
“Gray.”
“I know that!” The second time, Grayson’s words came out louder, more desperate.
Jameson let go of him.
“Despite what you seem to believe,” Grayson bit out, “what you both seem to believe, I can take care of myself.” Grayson was the Hawthorne who had been raised to lead. The one who was never allowed to need anything or anyone. “And you’re right, Jamie—she’s not Emily. Eve is vulnerable in ways that Emily never was.”