Chapter 28 Briar
brIAR
Everyone starts heading down to the racetrack. Much like the first one, the vibe is good. People are having a fun night with their friends, and everyone is nicely buzzed.
Gale leans in. “Let’s go get the top seats. I like being up high where I can keep an eye on everything.”
I nod, and Taylor shoots him a thumbs-up.
Roman’s eyes are heavy lidded, and he looks really tired.
“Hey, are you feeling okay? You look like shit.” John grimaces at his superior and pats him on the back a few times. “I can drive this one, Syxx.”
Roman shrugs John off and straightens his posture, though his eyes convey how utterly zoned out he is.
“I’m fine.” He struts across the gravel toward his Benz and gets in.
The five of us look at one another with concern before Bensen sighs. “We all know that the lieutenant is going to do whatever he wants, so we might as well just head up to the stands.”
The others seem convinced, but I hesitate. I’m pretty sure he only had one beer. “Are you sure? He seemed off.”
John sets his hand at the small of my back as he guides me up to the stands. “Sometimes he just shuts down. You know how he gets. He won’t listen to reason, Squirt. He’s stubborn.”
Something isn’t right. It’s a feeling deep in my gut that I can’t shake.
We sit at the very top back corner of the stands like Gale wanted. Taylor snagged a bag of popcorn from a lady handing them out and is leaned back, chomping away without a worry in the world.
“Thanks for watching from the treetops while I was talking to Grahm. I really appreciate it,” I say to Bensen. His eyes get wide, and he stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads.
“I wasn’t watching from the trees, Briar. I was in the crowd.”
My heart skips a beat. “What?” My voice sounds panicked and draws the rest of the guys’ attention. I know I saw a glint. “Then who was in the trees with a scope?”
Gale and John look at each other, and Taylor’s face pales.
We all seem to put it together at the same time. Roman only had one beer but he’s acting weird.
“Oh shit,” Bensen curses as I stand up and fly down the metal stands.
“Briar, wait!” John shouts, hot on my heels.
Someone fucking spiked that drink. But did they know I would grab it? My eyes widen. I didn’t grab it—Grahm handed it to me.
Fuck, this is my fault.
Tears prickle my eyes as I run across the track and throw open the driver’s door. Roman is slumped over the wheel and doesn’t respond when I try pushing him back against the seat. He’s heavy, and I can’t move him.
I choke back the sob in my throat and try again. This time hands come down gently over mine. I flinch and slowly look up, finding John’s soft gaze flicker with worry.
“Let me help, Briar.”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my sleeve as John pulls Roman from the car and shields him with his body so no one in the stands can see us. The last thing we need is the attention of everyone at the party.
“Is he okay?” I can only see Roman’s limp arms and legs as John gets him in the back seat.
“Briar, I hate to tell you this, but you’re going to have to drive.”
I blink at him like the two thoughts won’t connect.
That’s right, Roman was about to race.
Race?!
“Um, John, I can’t. We should get out and get help,” I say with a panicked voice. The flag lady is already walking out onto the track. God, my fucking luck is bullshit.
“We’re already in the car and can take the road off the back end to leave.
If Grahm spiked this beer, then there’s no telling who’s waiting out there for us.
I need to check his vitals, so don’t flip the car.
You got this, Squirt.” He gives me a weak smile before he lets his attention fall back to Roman.
My hands are trembling, but I manage to buckle the seat belt and secure the helmet that’s in the passenger seat over my head.
I spare a look back at Roman. Seeing him passed out with whatever drug was in that beer hits me like a train. He’s the strongest man I know, yet he’s so vulnerable right now it brings the tears right back to my eyes.
“Don’t look. Just focus, Squirt.” John sounds stressed.
I try to steady my erratic breathing, but the flags are lifted into the air and the countdown begins.
Go.
I floor the gas pedal, just as Roman did when he roped me into the car the first time. The car lunges forward. I can’t see who is in any of the other cars since it’s night and everyone has tinted glass.
Is Callum in one of those other cars? The thought is terrifying.
We reach the first corner and I slow down significantly, taking it as carefully as I can, but it’s still way too fast. Driving on dirt is like driving on ice. I floor the gas again once we’re back on the straightaway.
John’s phone rings. I barely hear it with how loud all the cars are around us. “Syxx is down. He’s been drugged or something.”
I don’t miss the air of suspicion in his voice. Does he think I did this? My eyes flick to the rearview mirror, and I meet John’s darkened gaze.
“Roger that. We’ll try to get there at the same time. Make sure no one trails you.” John’s voice is sharp.
My grip is tight around the steering wheel and my palms get clammy. “Is everything okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
John is quiet, and I hear the click of a gun being cocked. A small gasp escapes my lips as the cold steel of the pistol’s barrel touches my temple.
“I saw you hand him that beer,” he snaps.
My foot comes off the gas, and my instincts are to wrap my arms around myself.
John yells so loud that I see stars. “Don’t fucking let up. Drive. I’ll tell you when to turn. We’re getting out of here while we can.” He nudges my head with the gun, and tears spill down my cheeks.
“John, I—I didn’t do it. G-Grahm handed that drink to me, and I d-didn’t even think about it.” My breaths are as erratic as my words. Fear and anguish have never moved through me with such fluidity before.
“We’re going to let the lieutenant decide what to do with you after he wakes up.” He keeps his response short, making me feel even more like a traitor.
“Are you guys going to k-kill me?” I hyperventilate. Not for myself but because I’ve lost their trust so easily. Did they ever actually trust me? No, why would they? My name isn’t even Briar. I haven’t been honest with them from the start.
“Turn right on this road.”
I do as he says and turn off the racetrack, taking a small fire trail road that seems to lead deeper into the mountains. “I’m so sorry. I was just trying to help.” I cry, biting my lower lip and trying to keep my wits about me.
John doesn’t make a sound. When I look in the rearview mirror, I see soulless eyes watching me distrustfully.
I drive, half lucid and with puffy eyes, through the silence. John doesn’t say another word until we’re on the main road, heading back to the auto shop.
A warm glow in the distance catches my attention. “What’s that?” My voice is raspy and I hate how emotionally depleted I sound.
John sits forward more and stares in the direction of the orange glow. It’s getting bigger.
“Briar, that’s the area your uncle’s farm is in.” He sounds shocked and not as pissed off. I’m not sure he’ll ever look at me the same again, though. I don’t think he’ll ever trust me if this is all it took.
“The farm?” I suck in a breath and stare in horror.
“Change of plans, head that way,” John orders and quickly gets on his phone. “The farm is on fire.”
The farm is on fire. His words move through me like ice, and thoughts race through my mind like a million embers. What am I going to do if the farm burns down?
We arrive before any fire trucks do. From what John said in the car, I’ve inferred that the nearest one is at least ten minutes out and we were the first ones to call it in.
I stumble from the car and stand helplessly as the fire rages, consuming the barn and farmhouse as if they were nothing more than a pile of hay.
It doesn’t strike me like I thought it would. Probably because I have no emotional ties to this farm. Which is all it is—a building made of wood and stone. No animals or souls were in there. Nothing good ever came of this place.
But there’s a distinct hurt that grows in my chest. For the lies. For the stolen future this offered me. And for the moments that I had with Roman and the squad.
As the embers flicker across my weary gaze, I notice an envelope tacked to the electric pole right by where we parked. I take it down and look at it.
Laundromat. Tomorrow at 2 a.m.
I blink emptily at it.
This was Callum’s doing?
John snags the note from my hand and nods toward the car. “Let’s go before the firefighters show up.”
He makes me drive back to the auto shop. The road looks blurry, and I can’t seem to focus my thoughts. Am I having a panic attack? I swallow thickly and try to will away the tingling in my fingertips to no avail.
Gale, Bensen, and Taylor are waiting for us in the garage. In the few seconds it takes to pull in, dread fills me, and I keep my eyes on the ground when I step out.
Their attention is solely on Roman.
John pulls him out of the back seat, and the guys carry him to the sofa in the break room. I follow awkwardly, feeling so out of place.
Taylor is on his knee checking Roman’s pulse. He lets out a sigh and then looks at me. I shrink into myself and take a few steps back. Taylor gets to his feet and storms over to me. “You gave him that beer? What did you do?” His voice is loud, and it makes me wince and shut my eyes.
Gale makes a stressed-out sound, halfway between a sigh and a grunt before he sets his hand on Taylor’s shoulder. “We don’t know anything for certain yet. Don’t just jump down her throat.” I look past them and find John and Bensen giving me lethal glares.
How little it took for them to turn on me. I bury my teeth into my bottom lip. It’s not fair.
“Briar, I think it’s best you come with me for now.” Gale gently grabs my hand and guides me out of the room. I keep my eyes trained on Roman’s motionless body for as long as I can before we pass into the hallway.
I don’t ask where Gale’s taking me. I know he’s going to lock me up until they figure out what’s going on. Do they think I’m working with Grahm? My heart aches.
Will Roman believe me?
Of them all, he won’t think I’m working with Grahm, will he?
I sit against the cement wall in their water heater room, restrained to a thick pipe, and stare into the darkness until I can no longer tell whether my eyes are even open or not. It’s dark.
As dark as it was when Callum buried me.