The Inheritances Game (Jameson Hawthorne)

The Coordinates

I couldn't sleep. The next day was Monday. I had school, and at this rate, I was going to be up staring at my ceiling all night. Rolling out of bed and walking over to my closet, I withdrew the lone, ratty bag I'd brought from home. I unzipped the pocket on the side and pulled out my mom's postcards—the only thing I had left of her. I have a secret. I could hear her saying it. I could see her smile like she was there with me right now. 

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I whispered. Why had she pretended my father was someone else? Why hadn't Toby been a part of my life? Why didn't he want me looking for him now? Something snapped inside of me, and before I knew it, I was walking. Out of my room, past Oren, who was positioned outside my door. I barely heard his objections. My pace picked up, and by the time I rounded the corner to Toby's wing, I was running. 

The brick wall stared back at me. The Laughlin's thought I had no business in Toby's wing. I'd been warned away. I'd walked into my bedroom to find it bloody, and right now, I didn't care if they were the ones who'd done it, or if it was another member of the staff. I didn't care who'd been the stalker in the woods at True North or who'd "decorated" my locker. I didn't care about Ricky Grambs or Skye Hawthorne or the way the skin over my knuckles split as I punched them into that wall. 

Toby thought he could tell me to stop looking? He didn't want to be found? He didn't get to tell me to stop. Nobody did. Oren moved to restrain me, and I fought him. I wanted to fight someone. Oren let me. He wasn't going to allow me to hurt myself, but he wouldn't stop me from lashing out at him. That just made me angrier. I ducked his grip and barreled toward the bricks. 

"Heiress." Suddenly, Jameson was standing between me and the wall. I tried to stop, but couldn't in time, and my fist connected with his chest. He didn't even blink. I uncurled my fists, staring at him, realizing what had happened horrified that I had hit him. 

"I'm sorry." I had no excuse for losing it like this. So Toby had told me to stop looking? So he didn't want to be found? So what? What was that to me? 

"Tell me what you need." Jameson wasn't being cryptic. He wasn't using me, in any way that I could tell. 

I let out a long, effortful breath. "I need to take this damn wall down." 

Jameson nodded. He looked past me to Oren. "We're going to need a sledgehammer."

I took that wall down, brick by brick, and when my arms couldn't hold the sledgehammer any longer, Jameson took over for me. With one last swing, he cleared enough that I could step through the rubble. Jameson ducked in after me. Oren let us go. He didn't even try to follow. He stayed positioned at the entrance to Toby's wing, on the lookout for anyone who might decide that we didn't belong there. 

"You must think I've lost it." I snuck a look at Jameson as I walked across the marble floor of Toby's hall. 

"I think," Jameson murmured, "that you finally let go." This was me, hanging on to something. I didn't even know what. 

"He doesn't want me to find him." Saying the words out loud made it feel real. 

"Which suggests," Jameson added, "that he thinks we might be able to." I stepped into Toby's bedroom. The black lights were still there. Jameson turned them on. The writing was still on the literal walls."I've been thinking," Jameson said, like it was a confession, like his mind wasn't always on the move. 

"The old man didn't leave Xander an impossible task. He left a game, one originally meant for Zara and Skye. And that means that if we follow this through to the end, there will be an end. This is all leading somewhere. I can feel it." 

Catalina's Pov

"Hey Xan." He was sitting at a bench in the courtyard listening to something.