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R.HAMILTON
River spent the night at Harry's apartment, slept in a grey, worn-out t-shirt and navy-blue cotton shorts that had distressed ties and a single back pocket. The clothes smelled like Harry, and the bed smelled like Harry. It was warm and so was the man who kept her comfortable during the night.
There was no way she was going to go back home after the ball and sleep in her bed, knowing that her parents made rude comments about Harry, and certainly not after her brothers refused to put their feet down. River didn't expect them to go to war for her but she would've preferred if they didn't just sit there while their mother made accusations River knew weren't true.
Harry had gotten incredibly drunk. It was most likely to forget the way he was introduced to the Hamilton parents but River couldn't blame him. He almost made a spectacle of himself as he began to undo his tie at some point during the evening and flung it around above his head like a cowboy would a lasso. Although River was also slightly intoxicated, she was much more clear-headed than her boyfriend, and while she laughed at the scene he made, she eventually shut it down. She still had a name to protect and a reputation to uphold, an image she would've never dared to taint.
Plus, she wanted to save Harry's dignity. As she watched him sleep peacefully in the morning, she giggled to herself remembering the antics of the previous night. There was no way he wasn't going to be embarrassed about it.
Well, that was if he recalled anything of what happened.
It was nine-thirty in the morning when River's body awakened her, very much later than she usually set her alarm. The pounding headache drove her out of bed and to the other side of the bedroom where she left her bag, filled with all the necessary items she knew she'd need. After she took some ibuprofen, she did her usual morning routine and got back into bed, Harry still sound asleep.
It calmed her to watch him dream. There were no lines of concentration on his face, his breathing was slow and regulated. If she didn't pay close enough attention to the movement of his chest, she would've believed he was no longer alive. How he managed to sleep so deep was pretty astonishing.
At the same time, her brain did not stop whirring. The information River searched for was saved on her personal laptop, nestled inside of her bag, just a few steps away from where she relaxed in bed. A moment separated her from finally jumping into something she could never get out of and Harry waking up, inhaling deeply, and moaning in no doubt pain.
He did drink his fill, and he was no doubt going to be worse than River.
"Good morning," she said, already amused as he furrowed his brows then tugged the duvet up until he was completely covered. "Hey," she put her arm around him and leaned slightly over him. Hooked her index finger under the top of the duvet, and pulled it back. Harry remained squinting. "Let's get you back to normal, hm?"
Harry nodded and slowly pushed himself up to sit. River followed him and rubbed her hand down his back, the material of his shirt wrinkled and warm.
"I'm too old to be drinking so much," his voice was incredibly deep, perhaps deeper than usual in the morning.
Smiling at the grumpy grimace on his face, she said, "You had fun, though, right?"
"Too much fun," he chuckled, breathless. The ghost of a smile slipped from his face shortly afterwards. "I'm going to be sick," he claimed and hurried out of the bed, through his bedroom door, and hopefully reached the bathroom in time.
The slam of the door was loud and no doubt enough to wake his brother.
River took that time alone to get changed and ready for the day. Just because she had a fun night out yesterday evening didn't mean she got to chill and lay around, doing nothing today. It was a casual set she put on—white, and loose. The top was long sleeved and buttons ran up the front. River left a few of the top ones undone. The bottoms were a little longer than she needed them so she rolled the waistband back a couple of times.
Even though she would've loved to get in the kitchen and make an amazing breakfast to cure her hangover, as well as Harry's, the truth was she sucked at cooking. She could just about make sure the bread didn't burn in the toaster but other than that, she stuck to cereal or a sandwich if the chef wasn't around. Not that it happened a lot which was great.
Looking around Harry's kitchen, she found basic ingredients in the fridge. Milk, butter, cheese. There was a bottle of wine and a glass bottle of water. Vegetables in the drawer and a few apples in the other. She noticed the back of the fridge was frozen just as she shut the door.
There was an overly shiny toaster on the side, then a coffee machine beside it. A tower of something she figured to be coffee pods stood close by, and she shook one of them out of curiosity. River never really realised how useless she was in the kitchen until she picked up a kitchen tong and clicked it together. She chuckled as she put it back in the metal container then turned around and found Chris standing on the other end of the kitchen island, arms crossed, with an amused grin on his face.
"Oh, Jesus Christ," she gasped, slamming her hands against her chest. He was the last person she expected to see, especially in such a cheery mood. "Good morning. I didn't know you—"
"You have no idea what to do in the kitchen, do you?" he interrupted, still in the same stance. Chris appeared highly entertained at River's expense, but honestly? It just felt like he was her brother and he decided to wind her up.
River exhaled and ran her hand over the shiny kitchen island. "I admit, the kitchen is my least visited area of the house," she replied and took a seat. "Well," she chuckled, light. "If you disregard the secret trips I used to take as a child to grab one more cookie, one more muffin, one more of something I likely should've stayed away from, I am not entirely too familiar with it."
"I take it you have someone else taking care of your food?"
"Yes," she answered. It felt wrong to be honest in Chris's company. Somehow, it always left a sheen of guilt glistening on River's skin. Almost felt like if she was too frank about certain things, the people around her would take a step back and treat her differently. "I have had the same chef since I was about eleven years old so they have my preferences noted very well."
Chris chuckled. "What happened to the one before?"
"She retired," she replied, her tone sadder than a moment before. Although River didn't have very many vivid memories of the woman, she terribly missed her presence on occasion. There was something warm about her, the smile she used to give River when she got caught sneaking a box of cereal out of the pantry. "I suppose I never had a reason to branch out and explore the world of cooking. I never had the urge to get my hands dirty in that way."
"Your life is so fucking strange," he commented with disbelief on his features.
Harry came out of the bathroom which put an instant stop to their topic of discussion. He looked as pale as the wall behind him, hair slightly damp.
"You look like you crawled out of hell," Chris joked and laughed at his brother's state. Honestly, River agreed with him because somehow, he looked worse than she expected.
Worry settled in shortly afterward because she had no idea what would make him feel better. In her opinion, he needed a full-on cleanse to feel better but seeing as his home didn't carry the same items as hers did, she felt practically blind.
"I just need some ibuprofen and a Lucozade. I'll be fine," he waved it off and walked towards the living room. Since it was open plan, River saw as he threw himself down on the sofa then covered his face with the crook of his elbow, one arm on top of the other.
"Alright," Chris sighed. "I'm going to nip out for some breakfast. Anything on your mind, River?"
"I... um, I'm—"
"If you say you don't eat breakfast, I'm going to laugh at you then ask you about what you want again, so just tell me," he teased as he pulled out his phone and checked something on the device. "Oh, and please don't say something extravagant like caviar or duck liver."
"I wouldn't necessarily eat those for breakfast so—"
"Chris," Harry mumbled. "Stop being a dickhead and just get something greasy, will you?"
"Yup," the brother said, perhaps a little too happy to finally have an answer. "On my way, boss."
Chris didn't say anything after that as he simply left the through the main door. It occurred to River in that moment that he was already on his way out. Did he plan on getting breakfast and looking after his hungover brother? The thought warmed River's heart.
Clearing her throat, she made her way over to Harry and curled into the armchair. She looked directly over at Harry, who eventually removed the barricade of his arms and glanced towards River. He smiled, forcefully, and then grimaced.
"Come here," he mumbled, and stretched out one of his arms then curled his fingers in to call her over. River wasted no time in pushing up from her position on the furniture and sitting on the edge, just by Harry's stomach.
"Your brother is right, you know," she said softly. He caressed her arm and gave her a gentle squeeze. "You look rather under the weather."
"I've not been sick after drinking since I was nineteen," he said, his voice a little muffled. "Today, I changed that, and it was as horrendous as I remembered it to be."
River chuckled, and shook her head. "Did you think the experience would be more appealing once you got older?"
He shrugged, and closed his eyes again, the wrinkles between his eyebrows now more apparent. River couldn't stop when her hand reached forward and smoothened the skin back with her thumb. Harry caught her hand immediately, and pressed it to his forehead.
"Oh, that's good," he sighed in relief. "You're so cold. I love it."
"I'm glad I can help," she smiled, genuinely content that she could give him some reprieve. "Now, listen."
"I am... barely."
"It's not the most appropriate time but I can't stop thinking about it so I need to tell you," she explained. Harry grunted which she took as the nod to go ahead. "I got what I asked for about my father and Charlie's father."
"What's that?"
"Well," she sighed, and turned her hand around on his forehead so her knuckles cooled his warm skin. "I was drunk when I proposed the insanity of looking into my father's agreement with Ian Radcliffe but I was sober when I called my contact and asked them for more information. I received the files yesterday morning."
"And?"
"And," she exhaled again, her chest suddenly feeling heavy. Harry noticed because she felt his hand tighten around one of hers that he held. "I have yet to open it."
"Is it with you now?"
River nodded. Harry hummed. He twisted slightly so he laid more on his side and pulled River's right leg up higher so he could cuddle against her.
"This is so soft," he said as his hand rubbed against her lounge set but River's mind was elsewhere. She burned to grab her laptop and read everything. If Harry noticed, he didn't make it obvious right away. Or maybe she didn't notice until he gripped her thigh with a little more firmness. "Hey," he smiled. "Get your laptop."
"You're not feeling well."
He took a deep breath, and started to move to sit up.
"Hey, what are you doing?" she questioned but moved back a little to give him more space.
"Sitting up, honey. What does it look like?" he peeked at her as he sat in the corner of the sofa. "Now, go get your laptop, and let's go through this information."
River suddenly felt worried he would throw up again but this time over her device, and perhaps this showed.
It definitely showed.
Because Harry chuckled, and reassured her, "I'm not going to throw up again. I feel fine. Dizzy—but fine."
Reluctant at first then practically jumping out of her skin, River shot up from the couch, into his bedroom, and back to the living room. Although she wasn't as hungover as Harry, and she handled her alcohol fairly well with how cautiously she drank, the sudden jolt of exercise made her dizzy.
While she turned on her laptop, and waited for it to load, she refocused her world until it no longer spun before her. Harry chuckled, soft, but clearly entertained, and kissed the side of her head.
"Are you alright, baby?"
She nodded, and tried to put on a smile of reassurance. "I'm feeling okay. I didn't drink as much as you did, but I'm not sure all the alcohol is gone yet."
Once River was signed into her laptop, and plugged in the USB that she received, the files loaded on the screen. Different folders held different things, and it seemed like there was a lot to go through. Harry promised he'd stay with her but he stated there was no way he could read, and process everything.
Chris also made it back home with breakfast, and some more groceries, so while the food was served, River began her research.
And there was quite a lot to get through.
It seemed Dexter and Ian had an extensive history. Friends long before either of them had any children. Business ideas that failed—though all of them with a third person involved. 'DH' referred to River's father. 'IR' referred to Charlie's father. 'DR' was not mentioned until she got to the second folder of all the connected endeavours Dexter and Ian shared.
Even while River ate her breakfast, and pretended to entertain the conversation between the brothers, she couldn't stop thinking about all the potential people it could've been.
"I mean... it sounded like he knew dad, sure," Harry said, nonchalant, and his eyes focused on River. She just about heard what he said which meant they were still discussing last night's events. "He always wanted to get into the business, didn't he? I think they likely crossed paths at some point."
"Guess that wouldn't be too surprising," Chris sighed. Looked at River as he said. "Our so-called-father always wanted to make it big, and I reckon there's no one bigger than your father so," he shrugged like he didn't need to finish the sentence because he said everything.
Somewhat true, River thought. The Hamilton name had been around for decades, one more successful than the previous. If their father wanted to try big, he certainly would've sought out Dexter.
Which suddenly made sense.
Dominic Richmond.
DR.
River started coughing suddenly, the sip of water travelling down the wrong path as the realisation hit.
"Hey," Harry tapped her back gently then rubbed circles between her shoulder blades. He smiled at her when her coughing stopped, and she drank the rest of her water in a few sips. "Feeling okay?"
"Yes," she nodded, and squeezed his thigh as if to reassure him. River glanced at her phone, and pretended like she had something to take care of as she excused herself. "I have a work call in ten minutes. I'll use your room if that's okay with you?"
The hand he kept on her back slowly slid up to the nape of her neck, and he gave her a soft squeeze. "'Course."
"Thanks," she smiled, tight-lipped, and mid-way standing up. "Thanks for the breakfast, Chris. The next one will be on me."
Chris simply winked at her, and she chuckled. Before leaving the brothers, River kissed Harry's cheek, and ran her right hand down his shoulder, forearm, until their fingers touched, and broke away at the last possible minute. Harry smiled as he watched her disappear into his room.
When the door closed, the weight of the truth dawned on her.
Dominic knew Dexter and Ian.
They used to be business partners—and honestly? From the sounds of it, friends. River thought they had to be friends because she saw photos of them at the Clubhouse with the old interior, and when the lake wasn't yet incorporated, nor was the land redeveloped for the hotel. They had their arms around each other in one photo. They shared what looked to be beer in another. A child in Dexter's arms, dated back to 1989, just after Dorian had turned one, while a pram sat just in the corner of the frame. It couldn't have been Alden, and given the position, it had to be Dominic's son—Nicholas.
The longer River looked at the evidence of what she thought she would be able to handle, the more she felt like she knew nothing about her father. Their relationship had never been entirely open but she liked to think she knew her parents well.
Just how deeply did Dexter need to bury all of this information for no one to know it existed? Granted, River never thought to look more into things until recently, but surely—if Dominic was such a great part of Dexter's life, what could've drove them so far apart that Dexter refused to acknowledge the man in present time?
Where River thought she'd get answers, all she was left with were more questions.
Although she found out the agreement to marry River and Charlie came from nothing more than the desire to succeed, she couldn't help but wonder if this was a strange form of revenge. In a twisted way, she could see how the union of the Hamilton and Radcliffe name would hurt Dominic. However, if Dexter and Ian didn't think excluding their old friend was enough punishment, therefore they resulted to marrying their families into one, just how terribly did their friendship end?
The theories of it all began to cause her another headache. Whilst she used the excuse of a work call to leave and gather her thoughts, she decided she might as well make use of it, and called her brothers to meet at the Clubhouse later that afternoon.
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Happy Friday!
I'm on time. I can't believe it, either.
Another filler-ish chapter because man, we have to get to the good stuff somehow. Detective River Hamilton is in full effect, and I'm afraid her craziness is going to cause quite a bit of trouble. Let's hope she gets out unscathed.
On another note - I am dying to bring back the Hamilton brothers. I know they weren't the best in the previous chapter but c'mon - they can make it up to their sister! They only have one so it shouldn't be too hard.
ALSO. I just think I need to put all of the Hamilton siblings and Styles siblings under one roof. Because tell me how River is the only woman in the entire gang? And the only one to keep them all together, too.
Gotta love my wonder woman <3
I shall love you and leave you now because I'm very much in the mood to start the next update!
Love, B xx