My Rose

26. Briggs

Chapter 26

Briggs

“…stop playing the fool, and let what you know leads you to ruin, end.” ― Catullus

N eon lights flooded the floor, my leather boots striking the tile sloppily like a wet match. At one point, I started mimicking the steps of the darker boots beside me, knowing mine were incapable of appearing anything but intoxicated.

“Pick your head up,” Dean mumbled as his shoulder pushed into mine, forcing me to roll them back.

I dragged my palm down my throat as I looked up right before another set of doors opened. I could hear my father’s grunts behind me, his disapproval palpable past my high. I stopped and leaned into one of the women at the door like some sick sort of crutch as I squeezed her exposed breast. “Act like I’m telling you to sit on my cock like the gold mine it is, or I’ll find whoever it is you love and end them.” Her throat bobbed, yet when I pulled back, she giggled and blushed over. My fists curled in. I hated having that power . The knowledge that I could order mostly anyone to do whatever I wanted, and they would comply simply because of my name and position in society. These women didn’t deserve to be disrespected, but I knew my father put them beneath us—their job within VanLuxe didn’t grant them any sort of reprieve from the mistreatment unless I stepped in behind the scenes and had them removed.

As if earning his approval, the tension emanating from my father seemed to fade, if only for a moment. He’d been eyeing me like the pussy-whipped man I fucking was ever since Rose left, though her pussy wasn’t the only thing I loved about her. I wondered if he knew he’d been in the same room as my weakness, the one person I’d bend and break willingly for. I wondered how close of a look he’d gotten of her. My mind was too far gone to calculate how fucked we’d both be if he knew who she was to me.

Dean cleared his throat, pushing my body through the doors. “How many did you take?”

I brushed him away. “Fuck off. ”

He grabbed my shoulder, pulling me to the bench beside him as we waited for the other men to arrive for the meeting. “Don’t tell me to fuck off, Briggs. How many did you fucking take?”

I adjusted my jacket, rolling my eyes over to him as the world blurred for a second. “Enough to not feel shit.” Though nothing I did to distract myself seemed to be working. Every flash of dark brown hair caught my attention, and every set of blue eyes seeped into my skin in all the wrong ways. None of what I saw could match the beauty of the woman trying to toss me aside, unable to even look at me anymore.

My drug-induced eyes floated between the neon lights on the wall. I could feel Dean’s glares and knew they weren’t pleasant. My father, on the other hand, didn’t seem to give a shit what I took. As long as I did what I was told, I was saved from his wrath. That alone took years to accomplish.

“I’m getting you some water.” Dean waved over one of the waitresses, who wore only nipple tassels and what looked like another sticker that covered her pussy.

“I’m only fucking drinking now. Relax.” I rolled my eyes away and looked up at the ceiling as I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a flask, half-heartedly smirking at him, though I wasn’t sure I had even half a heart anymore. No, I was pretty sure the thing fucking shattered to irretrievable pieces that I numbed with drugs and alcohol. Being fucked up was easier than reliving the day I made her cry.

Dean sighed beside me as the woman walked away. “Shit. I thought you…I thought you took— ”

“Just one.” Dean’s pitying looks weren’t helping to ease the odd, hollow pain that still seized my body, even with the Molly in my system. I reached my other hand over my pocket and tapped it. “But if this doesn’t work out like you said, I’m ready to take more.” He wasn’t clear on how it would work out—he just kept telling me everything would be okay. For all I knew, he was trying to make sure I didn’t fall into a rabbit hole I wouldn’t be able to crawl out of. I never had an addiction problem and never abused drugs in the ways Dean probably thought I did. Most of the pills he gave me went to better use. Slipping a pill in Ernie’s glass hadn’t been the first time I’d drugged a client. I took them when I had no better options, but I hated not being in full control of my body.

There was only one person who could take away my inhibitions without drugs, and she wanted nothing to do with me. As much as I wanted to force her to see it differently, that’s not how I wanted my Rose baby. She needed to be willingly, irrevocably, intoxicatingly in love with me, just like I was with her. I wanted her to come to that conclusion on her own. Forcing her by any means would only push her further away.

“Fuck, Briggs.” His brown eyes raked over me as I settled into the booth more. The texture of the bench was grittier and colder than usual, seeping into my pores, amplifying the way my body hadn’t been feeling like my own since I’d dropped Rose off. In truth, the Molly wasn’t the thing that had made me numb—it was my own stupid fucking actions and the consequences of those actions that’d torn my soul apart. The lights started to strobe heavily as I took a pull from my flask .

“You promise you’re only drinking from now on?”

“You keep your promise, and I’ll keep mine,” I said as I emptied the flask, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and wincing against the burn that was going down my chest. It was almost soothing—having something affect my body that didn’t feel like a knife lodged deep behind my ribs. But as soon as the liquid settled, the pain was back again.

Dean’s eyes narrowed on me. “Don’t be a dick, Dean.” I slapped my hand on his thigh, twisting my lips into a smile I didn’t feel. “Loosen up a bit, would you?”

He muttered something in reply as he shook his head, trying not to gain too much of my father’s attention.

But it was too late. “Briggs has a mouthy little thing who works here. Hopefully, that entices him to go along with whatever is needed. Last time we were here, you almost ruined a good deal.” My father stared at me as I held back on spitting my drink in his face, his stern features begging for retaliation.

“I fired her,” Dean supplied with a shrug. “Already rotated out the rest of the women, too, as you requested.” Dean checked his phone, his other hand tapping along his thigh.

My father leaned back against the booth. “Excellent.”

Bile rose in my throat. I swallowed and leaned forward, swiping whatever alcohol was in the cooler on the table and filling my flask. “You know—” I stared at the liquid funneling through the metal, my nerves firing off. “Of all the ways you choose to do business, you pick the most vulgar way possible—treating the women who work here no better than cattle, even letting the pigs you bring in for business brand them with their hands.” I put the bottle down with a loud thud, finally meeting his steely gaze. “No one should be touching them like that.”

My father cocked his head. “Do you not find pleasure in pain, or did my genetics completely skip over you?”

My jaw worked. “They are here to earn a living, not be abused.”

He chuckled. “They are here to serve us and are lucky to earn a fucking dime while doing it.”

“I wonder—if Beck never crashed that plane”—I took a quick sip from my flask, hissing with the burn—“would he want to put a bullet in your head as badly as I do?” Saying my brother’s name usually elicited a sinking sensation that sent my stomach roiling. This time, it did nothing. Whether I had Rose or the Molly to thank, it had been years since I’d talked freely about him.

“Briggs,” Dean muttered under his breath. “Watch it.”

“No, let’s hear this.” My father drew a circle with his finger. “Please, son. Do continue to tell me how my real heir would have treated me.”

“Your real heir”—I rolled the bottom of the flask along the table—“he would have killed you the first time you ever hit him.”

“That’s what made him better than you.” My father raised his glass and tipped it toward me before taking a sip. “He had a backbone, whereas you have denied killing anyone I give you to handle.”

I glared at him. “If you wanted them dead, you should’ve done it yourself.”

“My capabilities aren’t the ones in question. You remember how I handle those that interfere, don’t you, boy?” My teeth ground against each other, my knuckles growing white along the flask. “You still think about that dead, worthless creature, don’t you?”

“No.” My vision was blotched with red.

My father’s lips twitched. “If you’d been born with a real head on your shoulders, you wouldn’t have even toyed with the idea of a low-level nothing like that. Beckett would have made me proud, whereas you’re nothing but a mistake.”

His goading aimed to trigger me and draw out my rage, granting him truths he didn’t know existed. Arguing anymore was futile. Getting beaten had no meaning behind it for me anymore. I was numb to it all—let him do his worst. I shrugged a single shoulder and snorted. “You’re probably right,” I admitted before taking a swig from my flask.

The waitress returned, sliding the glass in front of me. I reached for it, my fingers tapping along the cold, dewy sides, then pushed it right off the table with two fingers, splashing the waitress with the water as it shattered along the floor. My father’s eyes narrowed on me as his temper flared, and I quirked a half-smile back. “Whoops. My mistake .”

“Can I get you another glass, Mr. Andrews?” The waitress bent down quickly, saying how sorry she was for placing the cup right in front of me like she was supposed to. Everyone was a puppet in front of Ben Andrews and his heir to the company. Everyone except Rose.

I eyed my silent father, taking a wide stance with my legs beneath the table as I leaned back into the bench. “We’re fine for now. Thank you. ”

My father’s face tightened as he checked his watch, eager to get whatever business we had started with. Threatening him with bullets wasn’t going to get me far, but it was less damaging than screwing up business plans. His hand smacked down on the seat of the bench he was on as he cursed loudly.

“Maybe the weather kept them up,” Dean suggested as he slid his phone into my lap beneath the table. My father’s eyes were glued to the doors and away from us as Dean continued, “The snow moved over to the west. Perhaps they tried to cancel and couldn’t?” Why he was justifying where the fuck they were, I had no idea. Until I looked down, seeing the typed-out words on his phone’s screen:

Don’t worry, I got this. Wait ‘til you see who walks through the doors.

He even put a winking emoji, like whoever the hell I had to entertain could make me forget how hollow I was and how much I didn’t want to be here. I only wanted to be in one place, with one person—and that was more than likely never going to happen again.

If only I’d told her how much she meant to me. How much she wasn’t ‘nothing.’

I slid the phone to the bench between us right as the doors opened. The edge of my lips curled up as I stood and fixed my lapels, then held out my hand to the older woman in front of me. I sighed out through my nose, my smile growing as I said, “Briggs Andrews. And, mistake me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look like”—I quirked my head to my side—“Mr. Debaque.” I tried to envision a real smile, one Rose would put on my face and plaster to my lips, as the older woman grinned back, holding out her hand for me to take .

“Mrs. Debaque,” she replied as she shook my hand. “Mr. Debaque got caught up and sent me.” Her widened eyes wandered, her nose quickly crinkling in disgust. “Why ever would we meet here, Mr. Andrews?” Her eyes snapped to my father, then back to me.

Finally, someone with a fucking mind—and all it took was a married woman stepping in for her husband.

“Can I get you a drink, Mrs. Debaque? Maybe a quieter room?” I glanced over my shoulder at my father, his lips partially parted and his neck very clearly tinged with red. He cleared his throat, adjusted his tie, and then gave a single nod to me.

I turned back to the lovely woman, whose fading hair color and faint wrinkles near the edges of her eyes were accentuated by her clean-cut, business professional attire. Mrs. Debaque continued looking around the room like she’d stepped into the den of Hell itself as I took her arm and led her away to another room in the back, where the fading music rang through my ears like another genre entirely.

After I’d walked Mrs. Debaque through the back door and escorted her to her car, I went back to the room I dreaded. Dean was smiling in the same seat he’d been in before, my father noticeably absent. I peered around—the entire club was much quieter than it had been when we entered hours before. “Where’d everyone go? ”

“I cleared it out right after Ben left. Thought he was going to shoot you in the head himself with that threat. And talking about the club like that?” He stood, waltzing over to me and slinging his arm over my shoulders. “I don’t know what the fuck got into you, Briggs, but I’m proud as hell.”

I straightened, cocking a disbelieving brow as I met his eyes. “Didn’t think saying I want to blow his brains out would get me any praise.”

Dean sniffed. “Usually, you save those threats for the ones he puts in your chair.”

I glanced at the doors, then back at him. “Honestly, I don’t know how I’ve waited this long.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. I know the feeling.” He pulled out his phone, and I saw the name Jasmine flash on his screen. “It gets harder when you have someone you care about.” He waved the phone around the room, matching his wandering eyes. “This shit—it all gets to be too much sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” I laughed and pushed my hands into my pockets. “Try all the fucking time.”

“Ah, so that’s why you took the pills, then.” I glared at Dean over my shoulder as we strode through the empty club. The neon lights were off in a few places, leaving dark and ominous pits that were normally filled with naked women and their buyers for the evening. As we stepped into one of those dark spots, Dean gripped my neck from behind and tugged me back. I swung around on instinct, swinging a fist he managed to dodge at the last second. “Easy, killer. Just want to talk. ”

I adjusted my suit and shook out my hands. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“My ass. You want to get fucked up, then act like a man who has something to get fucked up over. Own it.”

My teeth ground so loud my ears rang. “It doesn’t matter. She was finding out too much, too fast.” I looked away from Dean as we continued through the club. “Bringing her into my life was never going to end well.”

“Briggs,” Dean sighed as he patted my shoulder. “Briggs, Briggs.” He pulled me back before I could open the heavy front door, and my fist clenched at my side. “Just wait a minute. Fuck.” I pinched my eyes closed, trying to escape whatever conversation he thought was about to happen.

“I told you. There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Wait. Let me show you something.” He held up a finger as he scrolled through his phone until he found what he wanted to show me. It was a picture of Rose from the day at the diner, judging by what she was wearing and the way she did her make-up that day. Next to the beautiful little viper who stole my heart was me, sitting there, staring at her . My Rose. “Look at you here." I turned back toward the door and Dean yanked me back. "Uh-uh, don’t try to walk away. Take the phone and fucking look.” I snatched the phone from him as my pulse thrummed erratically. “The way you’re looking at her there wasn’t only in that photo.”

I scoffed, glancing down at the phone. “So you got a photo of me wanting to get my dick wet. What else is new? ”

“Is that where your heart fell to?” He nudged into me, and the urge to punch him came rushing back. “I think I kicked your leg to get you to stop staring at her several times, but I don’t think you noticed or cared.” He grinned as he took the phone from me and pocketed it. “Tell me that’s not worth holding onto. That feeling .”

I made a show of wiping my hand roughly along my pants like his phone somehow dirtied me. “ Worth has nothing to do with it,” I spat as I moved for the handle of the door again. My father heard her name from her own lips. It would only be a matter of time before he connected the dots if he felt so inclined to track her down.

Dean jerked me back by my elbow, and I had to stop the way my arm was telling me to hurl my fist into his face again. I didn’t want to hear anything else about her. I just needed to forget and move past it. Past her. That was the only way she’d have a normal, long, potentially happy, and fulfilling life—staying away from me.

Far-the-fuck away from me.

“Fucking hell, Briggs. Listen to me. You’ve only got this one life, and I know he—” He cut himself off as he tossed his head back toward the room we’d just come from. “I know he made you feel worthless, like you don’t deserve to have your own life. That you don’t deserve to know what life can be like once you find a meaning to stay in it.”

“ You are the reason I’m in this mess.” I yanked my elbow from his hold. “I didn’t need anyone before—” I covered my face with my hands and slid them down my throat. Just thinking about her this much was making everything constrict—my breathing, my chest, my heart. It all hurt so damn much. I sighed and dropped my hands. “It’s over, Dean. She’s better off without me, and now she’s fully aware of that. Father made sure to fuck that all up, and if she’s gotten past what he said…well, then it’s what I didn’t say.” I couldn’t place all the blame on him. No, I was just as much at fault. She didn’t even get a good glimpse into everything real and true—our interwoven pasts, the things she couldn’t recall from her trauma, and the fact that I had done exactly as Dean suggested and was now tracking her every move without having to tail her.

Yeah, she was going to be fucking pissed about that last part if or when she found out because that wasn’t going to stop.

Dean shook his head. “No, you let him mess it all up for you. He would have nothing to do with your life if you didn’t want him to.” If Dean only knew the extent to which that was wrong beyond the company. I’d been reckless in bringing her to my house, and if my father wasn’t so focused on whatever pussy he was getting overseas, I was certain he’d be looking into Rose more.

I let loose a laugh through my cracked chest as I rolled my head back, fixing my gaze on the ceiling. “If only it was that easy to leave this life. You, of all people, should know I can’t do that.”

Dean crossed his arms, looking me over. “I know there’s a gun tucked into your waistband more often than not. I know you can fight, and not just because your father tells you to. I saw what you did to that kid in town. I’m assuming that was for her?” I couldn’t hide my smirk at that, and he snickered. “You’re bigger than your dad, clearly have more balls than him, and now you have someone.” I opened my mouth to interrupt him, but he held up his hand and shook his head. “I’m not fucking finished. You have money, even without being in this company. Sure, he made you feel like you’d have nothing if you didn’t stay and learn the ropes of what we do, and you ate that shit up beyond these four walls, making it your personality. But what we do in here isn’t the company, Briggs. That’s him. You can fight it.” He pointed to his head and tapped on it. “Use that head of yours and find a way to alienate yourself from all of this. Get out. Make a life for yourself. And if you love that girl—”

“What do I know about love?” I rolled my head to my shoulder, cocking my head. “Like I said, she’s gone. It doesn’t matter what I do.”

Dean raked his hand through his hair, his frustration with me growing as he shook his head and smacked his teeth. “Alright, Briggs. If you want this life, then stay. But if you don’t, maybe start leaning on the right people and pull yourself from the hell you live.” He walked by me, pushing the door open as I stood frozen on the spot. His phone rang, and as he answered, he turned to me and asked, “What is that phrase again? The one I told you to get a tattoo of next time you get more ink? Carpe damn?”

“It’s carpe diem , you fucker.”

He pointed a finger gun at me. “ That’s the one. Go carpe diem that motherfucker.”