Chapter 1 Briar #2
So there are people who live in this town.
The sound of people chatting soothes my nerves a little.
It’s weird, but this place just gives me a bad feeling.
Like when you enter a building and you feel eyes on you—that’s how this entire town feels.
Like I’m being watched. A shudder runs down my spine.
I make a note to not watch any horror movies for the foreseeable future, even though they’re my favorite.
I continue to look for the phone and find it in the back.
A stretch of black and white tiles leads up to a vintage red phone booth.
It almost feels like I’ve gone back in time.
These old diners have always been a favorite of mine for that reason.
They hold so much charm. My dad used to take me to them when I was younger, and we’d order pancakes every single time.
I smile to myself at the almost fuzzy memory.
I miss him. I wonder what he would think if he could see me now.
Flipping my life upside down at twenty-five because of an asshole ex and running to the first escape option that pops up…
It’s not what I ever planned for my life to look like, but I never had much of a running start.
Dad died when I was eight; Mom, when I turned thirteen.
I can’t remember what they looked like, or even where my childhood took place.
Just the warm memories of comfort while they were still alive.
My family is cursed to die out. It’s a fate that has slowly unfolded. Maybe it’s why I never really tried to make anything of myself or pursue my passions. I always sort of thought death was coming for me next.
And it did. Callum saw to that, and now I have severe trust issues.
My old therapist said I should try to look at the positives instead of all the bad things in my life. He always wore a sharp black suit and tapped his fingers on the table. At least I’m not dead. I grin grimly to myself.
I pick up the phone and dial the police. The phone rings once, then goes straight to voice mail. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I curse as I set the phone back down on the ringer harder than necessary.
Of course, this town doesn’t have a full-service police station, but they have a twenty-four-hour diner, which makes total sense.
I guess waiting for that car to leave before heading back is my only option.
I check my phone for the time. Midnight.
Maybe a few hours will be enough time. I can sip on coffee and eat for that long.
The ten-hour drive here already took it out of me. The last thing I want to do is camp at this diner and wait, but I don’t really see any other option right now.
I stop in the bathroom and freshen up. After washing my hands, I reluctantly look at myself in the mirror. My ombre ashy-brown-to-blond hair is a tangled mess, and my eyes have dark circles around them.
Sleep wouldn’t be so hard if I didn’t have night terrors about what Callum did that night.
I shut my eyes and fist my hands at my sides.
No. If anyone can escape that memory, it’s me.
I’ve got this. I firm my resolve and look back at the mirror, redoing my ponytail and tying my hoodie strings so it doesn’t look so disorderly.
I don’t need any more judgmental looks from the freaking waitress.
I walk back out to the main dining area and spot four men sitting at a booth in the corner.
They’re loud and rowdy and look like they could be in a biker gang.
They’re wearing all black: slick sport jackets, jeans, and combat boots.
Each of them has a muscular build and trouble written all over their foreheads.
By the way they’re dressed and lounging, I’d guess that they are only a handful of years older than me at most.
I quickly avert my gaze before I get too interested in them.
The last thing I need is to make eye contact with one and have my time here filled with whatever drama they’re sure to bring.
Guys like them always have bad things they drag around.
And if there’s one thing I don’t need, it’s bad guys with baggage. Seems to be my weakness.
I head back to the bar for my cup of coffee, but just as I’m sitting down, one shouts over at me, “Hey, cutie!”
My cheeks turn red, but I don’t look their way. Ignoring horny idiots is usually the best way to avoid their harassment.
Hurry up, waitress. Come back out here so I can order food—to go, so I can head back to my car and eat in private. My leg starts bouncing again.
I shut my eyes and take a sip of the hot black coffee; choking it down would be an understatement—it’s so bitter that it makes me grimace.
The next thing I know, an arm wraps around my shoulders, and the smell of cheap beer coils around me. A shiver goes up my spine, and I fist my hands against the countertop instinctively. Who the fuck walks up and touches a stranger like that?
“Didn’t you hear me?” a smooth voice murmurs against my ear.
I flinch in his hold and shrink into myself. “Oh no, sorry, I didn’t. Can I help you?” I lie sweetly. It’s better that they think I’m some sweet lost girl. It always is. Then they don’t see the pocketknife I have in my bag coming.
The man chuckles and lets go of my shoulder. I take the moment to swivel in my chair and look at him. I wish I hadn’t—I should’ve just gone straight for a slap across his face.
He’s stupid hot—tall, muscular, and he has a charming smile that promises he’s broken way too many hearts. His chestnut-brown hair is styled and swept to the side, giving him a sharp look.
“Is it just you here? Why don’t you come sit with us?”
“Oh no, that’s okay, I’m getting my food to go.” My fingers tap anxiously on the counter.
His eyes narrow at my hand, and his grin grows with amusement. “They don’t do takeout. New to town?” He looks me over again with a little more interest.
Fuck, of course they don’t do takeout.
“Come on, we don’t bite.” He turns up the charm. I cast a look back at his group of friends, all of them are staring at us. Two of them are grinning and one has an annoyed furrow to his brow.
I guess it would be really awkward to sit here and eat after he’s come over. Plus, they’re all pretty cute. With the shitty day I’ve been having, I could use a distraction.
“Okay.” I sigh with resignation. His expression lights up instantly.
Honestly, what’s the worst thing that could happen? They are just some good-looking guys. Bad ones, I think, but still. Maybe I can get some useful information on this town and what there is to do around here. I’ll definitely need something to kill time besides cleaning up the farm.
I grab my cup of coffee and walk toward their table. He wraps his arm around my lower back and guides me to where he was seated.
I offer an awkward smile and sit down. The men are all sprawled out, not too concerned about me joining them, but they do have a glimmer of interest in their eyes.
The man I sit next to has his arm set above the back of the booth.
I don’t have any choice but to scoot as close as I can because the one that asked me over here sits down next to me, boxing me in.
Welp, this was probably a mistake.
“What’s a prissy little thing like you doing out here in the middle of the night?
” the man across from me asks. He’s a little taller than the rest, and he has tattoos that crawl up his neck and end at his jawline.
God, I’ve always had a thing for the tattooed ones.
They can handle pain, and something broken in me really likes that.
Prissy? I’ve been called worse.
I consider lying and telling them I’m out here just for fun or to be with family, but if I run into them later, it might be a hard lie to keep up with. I don’t have the bandwidth for that right now.
“There was someone casing the house I’m supposed to be staying at.
I didn’t feel like being axe murdered, so I left.
I don’t have any cell service out here, so I came to this diner hoping to use a pay phone.
” My words trail off as I think about how stupid it is that their police station is closed right now.
“Let me guess, you were going to try to call the police but realized they close at eight p.m. around here.” The guy next to me chuckles.
“Eight p.m.?” I emphasize, genuinely flabbergasted. Is that even legal? My opinion of this place keeps declining.
“Yep, Sheriff Murray doesn’t work very late. How long did you say you were in town for?” the guy who came up and grabbed me asks with a flirty tone.
I firm my lips and rub the edge of my shirt as the wheels in my head churn. I’m not sure I should mention how long I’ll be here.
The hot blondie in the corner across from me seems to catch on to my uncomfortable expression. “I’m John. What’s your name?” He offers a charming grin that soothes my suspicion a bit.
Callum won’t find me here. He thinks I’m dead, and there’s no security cameras in small towns like there are in the city.
I calm my thoughts. But a little lie won’t hurt to help me stay hidden, right?
“My name is Briar,” I say sheepishly, keeping up with the sweet girl facade.
It’s not like it’s a complete lie. I’ve been going by Briar for months now.
Chloe Thornton is dead—she died a long time ago.
“That’s a pretty name,” John says with that cheeky smile I’m already fawning over. His eyes are a deep blue that could sweep me off my feet. He’s the one that would break my heart out of them all.
“I’m Gale. That’s Taylor and Bensen.” Taylor is the one who keeps calling me cutie, and he grants me another smile when I look at him. Gale shifts in his seat across from me. He’s the only one who looks a little uncomfortable with me sitting with them.