Isaiah assessed me for so long that I felt about four years old and five inches tall. But whatever he saw in my face earned me an answer. “Blake came to me at my lowest point, told me that he wasn’t scared of Tobias Hawthorne, and if I wasn’t, either, we could do great things together. He offered me a position as the head of his new innovation lab. I had free rein to invent whatever I wanted, as long as I did it in his name. I had money again. I had freedom.”
“So why did you quit?” I asked. That was a guess, but my gut said it was a good one.
“I started noticing things I wasn’t supposed to notice,” Isaiah said calmly. “The pattern’s there if you look for it. People who stand in Vincent Blake’s way—they aren’t standing for long. Accidents were had. People disappeared. Nothing anyone could prove. Nothing that could be tied to Blake, but once I saw the pattern, I couldn’t unsee it. I knew who I was working for.”
We’d come here in part to find out what Vincent Blake was capable of.
And now I knew.
“So I quit,” Isaiah said. “I took the money I’d earned—and saved this time—and I bought this place so I’d never have to work for another Vincent Blake or Tobias Hawthorne again.”
What had happened to Isaiah wasn’t right. None of this was right.
Rebecca and Thea reappeared. Xander wasn’t with them. “There’s a doughnut shop down the street,” Rebecca told me, out of breath. “We have a twelve-jelly-and-cream situation.”
I looked back at Isaiah.
“Sounds like you’re needed,” he said, calmly returning his attention to the car he’d been working on. “I’ll be here.”
CHAPTER 60
Rebecca and Thea led me to a doughnut shop, then waited outside. I found Xander sitting at a table by himself, stacking doughnuts one on top of the other. By my count, there were five.
“Behold!” Xander declared. “The Leaning Tower of Bavarian Cream-a!”
“Where are the other seven doughnuts?” I asked him, taking his cue and not pushing this too much too soon.
Xander shook his head. “I have so many regrets.”
“You literally just picked up another doughnut,” I pointed out.
“I couldn’t possibly regret this doughnut,” Xander stated emphatically.
I softened my voice. “You just found out that the Hawthorne family faked a paternity test to keep your father, who wanted you, out of your life.
It’s okay to be angry or devastated or…”
“I don’t super excel at anger, and devastation is really more for people who slow down long enough to let their brains focus on the sadness. My expertise falls more squarely in the Venn diagram overlap between unbridled enthusiasm and infinite—”
“Xander.” I reached across the table and laid my hand on top of his. For a moment, he just sat there, looking down at our hands.
“You know I love you, Avery, but I don’t want to talk to you about this.”
Xander removed his hand from underneath mine. “I don’t want to have to explain to you what I don’t want to explain to you. I just want to finish this doughnut and eat his four best doughnut-y friends and congratulate myself for probably not vomiting.”
I didn’t say another word. I just sat there with him until Oren appeared in my peripheral vision. He inclined his head to the right. Xander and I had been spotted—by a local, I was guessing, but when it came to the Hawthorne family and the Hawthorne heiress nothing stayed local for long.
We went back to Isaiah’s garage. “Do you want us to wait outside?” I asked Xander.