by Fox, Logan
So why is she suggesting this?
But there’s no time to give it more thought — as if she comes to some kind of decision, Indi heads for me again.
This time, she’s wearing an expression I’m more familiar with.
Determination.
* * *
Indi
Briar’s car smells just like him, but with hints of leather and car polish thrown in for extra manliness. I won’t lie, the inside of his Mustang is as stunning at the exterior — white, red-trimmed bucket seats, a red console, and immaculate everything.
A gift? He sure looks after it as if it were one.
And it suits him like a well-worn glove.
I run my hands over the leather console, my fingertips thrilling at the feel of the supple leather. Briar climbs into the driver’s seat and watches me for a moment before turning the ignition.
“Like it?” he asks.
He twists, sliding an arm behind my seat as he stares out through the rear windshield. I jerk at his unexpected closeness before I can stop myself, and the tiny twitch of his mouth tells me he noticed.
Shit, Indi, get a fucking grip. He’s supposed to think you’re crushing hard, not pissing yourself with fear.
Am I doing the right thing? Will this harebrained plan of mine even work? I wish I could have spoken with Addy before making a decision but…Seems she’s been lying to me again. Or, at least, withholding rather important fucking intel.
I mean, she must have something solid on Briar, right? Else he wouldn’t have sounded so pissed off last night. But why did she hold onto it until now? Why didn’t she give it over to the police? Why didn’t she tell me?
Thoughts like these drove furrows through my mind as they raced back and forth last night.
It doesn’t matter what Addy has — I can’t trust her anymore. And this thing has gone further than rape and a dodgy suicide.
Marcus and Briar conspired. Who’s to say they didn’t have this planned out like cold-blooded murderers?
Boys like these…they become the type of men who torture and kill and then set houses on fire.
Even just for the sake of my own sanity, I have to find out what happened to Jessica.
“You try calling Addison?” Briar asks in a tight voice as he guides his Mustang out of the school gates.
“Phone’s off.” I toy with a button on my blazer, doing my best to avoid eye contact.
I shift a little, shrugging my shoulders. I left my hair down this morning — and I even fucking brushed it — but now it’s just irritating me. My makeup went up in smoke, and Marigold was still in her room when I left this morning, so I couldn’t sneak in and steal hers.
Mother’s room was locked again.
So I put a brush through my hair, left off my tie, and undid the first three buttons of my shirt.
Which reminds me…
“Gosh, is it just me or is it getting warmer every day?” My voice cracks a little, no doubt because improv is far down on my list of polished skills, and I blush as I struggle out of my blazer. “That’s better,” I say through a sigh, and hastily turn to look out the window in case Briar catches sight of my red cheeks.
Holy shit, I didn’t think this was going to be so difficult. Honestly, I thought I’d be more scared than flustered.
But again, just like it has before, Briar’s no longer some monster straight out of a Grim Brother’s story.
“Haven’t really noticed,” he says. “Should I turn on the—?”
“No, this is fine.” I roll down the window and tug the joint from my blazer. It got a bit smushed from my struggle to undress, but I squeeze it back into shape and look around for a lighter. Briar pulls a gleaming zippo from his pocket and holds it out for me, already lit, without taking his eyes off the road.
So smooth, Briar. Did you pull these moves on Jessica too?
I light the joint and puff on it until it takes. Briar watches me from the corner of his eye, and then indicates and turns away from Lavish Prep.
My heart kicks up a notch, but I manage a semi-casual, “Where are we going?” I pass across the joint, but he waves it away.
My limbs start tingling. Fuck, he isn’t going to smoke? Is that so he can make sure he has the upper hand?
I force a deep inhale, and smile at him as I shrug and take back the joint.
Fuck it. Might as well meet my maker while I’m high as a fucking kite.
“Thought we’d go pay Addison a visit. Make sure she’s all right,” Briar says.
Puffs of smoke escape my mouth as I splutter out, “What?”
Briar gives me a strange smile. “You don’t want to check on your friend?”
“Of course. I mean, yeah. Obviously.” I nod a few times, and then wonder if I should get more stoned. Before I can come to a decision, Briar turns down another road and starts slowing. Ahead, a golf estate’s boom bars our way.
Oh, thank God. No way Addy would let us—
Briar leans across the car. I cringe away, thinking he’s gonna grab my leg, but instead he just pops open the glove compartment. He rummages around inside and comes out with a remote control. When he presses it, the boom lifts.
Fuck.
“That’s…convenient,” I say quietly, repositioning myself on the seat so I don’t look like I was trying to climb out the window.
“Dylan stays here.”
Course he does, whoever the fuck he is.
Briar drives to one of the units and parks outside. There are no cars in the drive, not even Addy’s little sports car.
“Guess she’s not home,” I quip, before stabbing a thumb over my shoulder. “At least we checked. Should probably get out of here before—”
Briar’s hand closes over my thigh. My skirt’s up to mid-thigh, and his hand easily fills the space between my knee and the hem of my skirt.
It’s warm, firm, so fucking big. When he speaks, I realize I was staring at his long fingers. “We should at least knock, right?”
I don’t turn to look at him, because I can see enough from the corner of my eyes. Plus, he’s so close, if I did turn, he could kiss me.
And my stupid brain keeps telling me that’s somehow a good fucking thing.
“Of course,” I manage, fumbling for the door handle.
“Cool.” His voice is so smooth, so calm and collected, I know he’s up to something. But I don’t know him well enough to even try and guess what the fuck his plan is here.
I follow him, glancing around to check if there’s anyone in sight as he leads me to the front door. How does he know where Addy stays? Then again, he did date her best friend. He probably picked her up from Addy’s house a few times.
The house is a modern, sprawling split level. Briar walks straight up to the front door and knocks, ignoring the buzzer beside the intricately carved paneling.
We wait for long moments, and I’m feeling more stoned by the second.
Addy never comes to answer the door.
“Maybe she had errands to run or something,” I say, taking a step back and hoping he will take it as our cue to leave.
“Yeah,” Briar murmurs, glancing around. “Maybe.”
When he turns, the morning sun catches on his hair, turning his sandy strands into sullen gold. He squints at me as he passes, and extends an arm.
I don’t move, not sure what he wants, and he ends up draping his arm over my shoulders. “Where’s that joint, Angel?”
That pet name sends an illicit tingle through me that I do my best to ignore. “Here?” I whisper back, glancing around. There’s an old lady watering her garden a few houses away.
“You paranoid? Fine, we’ll go check the back. Maybe they left the door open.”
I almost stop walking, but manage to catch myself in time. Briar takes the joint from me, lights it, and hits it hard as he maneuvers me down a side path of cobblestones heading to the back of Addy’s house.
“This shit’s good,” Briar says around the filter, looking down at me as he s
trokes his thumb down the side of my neck.
Unnecessary goosebumps break out all over my skin.
“It’s from Addy’s guy,” I say, desperate to do anything but blush.
It doesn’t work — my cheeks heat up anyway.
Why in the fuck did I think for even a moment that I would be in control in this situation? How? You’d swear I’d started smoking before I thought up this cockamamie plan.
Oh, right. I pictured this happening at school, not in Addy’s backyard.
Which, by the way, is fucking gorgeous. The area’s completely enclosed — Briar opens an ornate metal gate to let me in — and the walls seem to consist entirely of trailing ivy.
There’s an intimate swimming pool, a hot tub, and a closed-off porch. It looks like something out of a home design magazine.
Briar heads straight for the glass sliding doors and tries the handle.
He turns to me and shrugs. “Locked.”
“Darn,” I say, snapping my fingers and then instantly wishing I hadn’t. Note to self — don’t ever quit your future day job to take up acting. You suck at it. “Well, best we get back to school. Don’t wanna rack up more detention time, do we?”
“Relax,” Briar says, hitting the joint as he walks back to me.
God, it should be illegal to look as hot as he does. With his swagger, and the way he’s holding that joint, he looks like a young heartthrob actor taking a break between scenes of some gritty romance movie.
Focus, Indi. Or have you forgotten what the whole point of this excursion was?
I straighten, clear my throat, and make grabby hands for the joint. Briar cocks his head, a smirk playing on his mouth as he swaggers closer.
Good God, I think I’m going to combust if he keeps looking at me like that.
I squeeze my thighs together as he walks near and try to snatch the joint as soon as he’s close enough. But he lifts his arm, putting it ridiculously out of reach. And then he just keeps walking until he’s right up against me. Until I’m forced to take a step back.
Then another.
Another.
“Briar…”
He hits the joint, dips his head.
Before I can manage another protest, his mouth is against mine. His tongue teases my lips apart. Hot, dank smoke pours into me.
I inhale greedily, my hands sliding around the back of his head so I can kiss him back and create a seal around our mouths. For the weed smoke, of course. Not because I could devour this man alive right now.
“Mmm,” he murmurs. That vibration flows through my entire fucking body. “Greedy little virgin, aren’t you.”
“So I like getting high,” I say, my lips slipping over his with each word. “Sue me.”
“I’d rather fuck you.”
Air leaves me in a throaty groan at his words. There’s a hand at the small of my back, another on my neck. He’s pressing me tight against him, but still walking me backward.
I try to stiffen my legs, but then he kisses me for real, and my world explodes into pure bliss. I lose all motor function, relying on his strong arms to keep me upright as the pressure of his body against mine moves me like a piece in a chess game.
The back of my legs hit something soft but firm. I go, “uh,” into his mouth in surprise, and for some reason that makes him growl.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he grumbles, tearing his lips away from mine and instead moving them to my ear. “How the fuck can you make me so horny with one little sound?”
I don’t have time to reply — Briar scoops me up and plops me down.
I expect to hit the ground — bricks around here, if I’m not mistaken — but instead I land on something soft.
My eyes flutter open just long enough to take in my surroundings.
He has me on a day bed, the covers drawn back, the beige cushions supporting me.
Fuck.
It’s happening.
But I can’t let it.
This wasn’t the plan, Indi!
I mean…this was part of the plan, but the timeline’s accelerating waaaay too fast.
Get up.
Shove him away.
Do something, you dumb fucking slut.
So I do the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I kiss him.
Briar shoves a hand up my skirt, and scrapes his knuckles over my pussy. My body responds on instinct, arching off the cushions as I let out a long groan.
“Fuck.” Briar sounds so pissed off, a shiver of fear races through me. He grazes the side of my neck, my throat, my collarbone. All hard enough to sting.
Indi, get your fucking head straight! You can’t give him what he wants. Not yet.
Quid pro quo, you dirty slut.
“Briar, no.” I shove at him, wriggle furiously, and sway as I drag myself to my feet.
He lays there like the king of this fucking golf estate, propped on an elbow like yesterday in the woods, and watches me as I start gesticulating wildly.
“This is crazy. We have to get to school. I can’t do this. Not now. Sometime, maybe, but not—” I clamp my lips shut, but it’s too late.
“Sometime?” Briar drawls as he slowly rises.
God, has he always been this tall? This fucking hot?
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Maybe.”
He moves to touch me, but I step back in case my entire body revolts against me.
“So why’d you want me alone, huh?” Briar tilts his head. “Do you have any fucking idea what it does to me, to have you so close, and then you just fuck off?”
His voice drops so low, it’s as if I’m feeling the vibrations of each word instead of hearing him speak.
I step back, lifting my hands. “I wanted to say sorry.”
He stops, frowns. “What?”
“For yesterday.” And then the words just pour out of me. The weed greased the wheels, but honestly, this shit was one of the reasons I couldn’t fucking sleep last night.
“I didn’t mean to tell you all that shit yesterday. You don’t need to know that stuff. No one does.”
The edges of Briar’s mouth curve up, his lips parting. “Your mother?” he asks quietly, stepping closer.
I should move away, but his eyes narrow and focus on me like blue lasers. I’m pinned in place as effectively as if his hands were on my shoulders, keeping me in place.
“I went too far. I just wanted to…shock you.”
He grabs my shoulders. If he pulled me close, I would have fought him, but instead he just dips his head so our eyes are level. “I told you to tell me. I wanted to know.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Jesus, fuck, I feel tears coming. I blink furiously, willing them back. I thought I was done with this shit already.
Mom’s dead.
Case closed — literally. There’s no bringing her back. There will never be justice for the man who fucked and sodomized her with a soda bottle.
No justice for Mom.
No justice for Jess.
No.
Wait.
I can do something about Jess. But only if I keep my motherfucking head on straight.
And God, that seems easy as finding unicorn poop right now.
“Indi.”
I must have zoned out — Briar’s right against me again and I didn’t even see him moving.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs. “Give your pain to me, and I’ll take it. Every bit of it.”
I stare up at him, transfixed by the play of light in his cerulean eyes. Does he even know how beautiful he is, when he’s not scowling or being a massive fucking prick?
“How?” I put my hands on his chest and lean in. “Why?”
“I have experience,” he says. His eyes dart all over my face. This time, it doesn’t feel like he’s scanning me. Instead, it’s as if he’s searching for something.
“With what? Pain?” The words come out before I can stop them; hot and bitter to boot.
But he doesn’t even flinch, he just nods his head. When his eyes lock with mine, so
mething ephemeral flows through me.
Understanding.
Compassion.
Maybe even sympathy.
“My mother died in a car accident when I was thirteen.”
My lips part. I want to say I’m sorry, but I know it would be hollow words. I shake my head. “That must have been…”
“Not even close to someone murdering her.”
I’m dimly aware that there’s no space between us. That his breath washes over my face every time he speaks. That his hip bones, his fading erection, are digging into my belly.
But I can’t move.
I’m frozen.
He’s right. A car accident — random chance.
Murder? Brutal torture and rape? Nothing random about it.
“Now…Is there something you want to ask me?”
My eyes fly back to Briar. My stomach twists, shooting sour bile up my throat.
Of course I do. More than anything. I swallow. It takes everything I have, but I eventually gather enough courage to ask.
“Did you…” I haul in a breath, but Briar waits, patient as the motherfucking grave.
“Did you rape Jessica?”
The world undulates around me as I wait for him to answer. My body responds, pulsing and throbbing as if I’m connected on some cosmic level.
Holy shit, that weed was strong.
No, it’s not that. It can’t be.
It’s Briar.
It’s this unfathomable connection we have.
I don’t understand it one bit — and I don’t consider myself a stupid person — but somehow, we’re the same.
I should have asked him if he killed her. That’s the greater sin here, right? But it doesn’t seem important right now. I can’t explain it any more than I can explain the fact that I’m still here, allowing him to touch me, allowing him to be part of my world when I should be miles away.
“I…” Briar’s throat moves. He looks away, but I grab his jaw and force him to look at me. My heart pounds, and I feel his jaw bunch under my fingertips, but I don’t release my grip.
And he doesn’t pull away, although it would be the easiest thing in the fucking world for him.
“Did. You. Rape. Her?”
His eyelids droop. His shoulders sag. A soft sigh washes over my face as he briefly squeezes closed his eyes before flaring them wide open.