Chapter 35 Briar
brIAR
Callum stares up at me through hooded eyes as I drag the sharp end of my knife over his throat. His pupils dilate, and his pulse leaps as I lean down and press an empty kiss to the top of his forehead.
“You’re terrifying. You know that?” He presses his thumbs into the soft divots of my neck, making my breath stagger.
“Am I?” I ask as I take in his lovely features before nicking his ear. He all but winces, letting the blood drip down his neck without a care.
“Yes,” Callum murmurs, pulling me down and kissing me.
I bite his lip and draw blood. I want to scar him in as many ways as he has me.
Grahm kicks the truck we’re in the back of and whistles for his crew to hurry up with the shipment. Callum groans and sits up.
He’s frustrated that I won’t give him the affection I once did. All I have left is the darkness that was left in the wake of love. Of his. Of Roman’s.
I shift out of the truck and shove my hands into the pilot-style jacket Grahm gave me.
We’re expecting an important shipment today. I’m not sure what the product is or why it’s important enough to deal outside of the underworld, but it is. And to my utter displeasure, of course it’s at the bonfire party.
Roman was right about Sub-Rosa using the townspeople for protection. No one would dare give up their positions to out the group. It’s diabolical and twisted, but I don’t have the will to fight any of it anymore. I’m just here to enjoy what little I can.
Grahm leans against the truck beside me while Callum speaks with one of his grunts. “We have one more stop after this.”
I groan. “Seriously? Don’t you ever get tired of working?”
He laughs and crosses his arms. “Honestly, Thornton, what do you even have to be in a rush to get back to?”
I lift a brow at him. “Our game of chess. The last episode of that stupid drama show. There’s a bowl of chili someone left in the fridge that I plan on eating tonight.” I crack a smile, and he laughs.
“Jesus, you’re fucking something else.” He grins and shakes his head a few times before letting his eyes shift over to Callum. “I want to give you a heads-up, but you need to keep it to yourself, or Callum will lose his shit.”
My humor fades, and I nod.
“You’re meeting the boss tonight. It’s nothing formal, but he’s interested in meeting you. So be on your best behavior, okay?” He sounds serious.
“The boss. Like of Sub-Rosa or…more?” I hesitantly glance at Callum to make sure he’s still not listening.
Grahm shrugs. “I’ve never asked. As long as I get paid and I do my job, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to get into it any deeper than I already am,” he admits.
I bite my lip, debating on asking more. “Did you kill my uncle?”
Grahm’s eyes flash, and he shakes his head. “No…but there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
I stare at him expectantly. He clears his throat.
“Hello, Miss Thornton. It’s Mr. Holland.” His voice is exactly how Mr. Holland’s voice sounded over the phone.
“You’re Mr. Holland? But…why?” I thought I’d be more upset hearing this, but after being left for dead twice, being lured into a town doesn’t exactly top the list.
Grahm sighs. “I knew someone had Chloe’s phone. I was tracking its movements, and when I called and you picked up, I knew there was a chance it was you. Callum didn’t believe me, so I lured you here myself. Once I verified it was you—” He breaks off.
“You told Callum.”
He nods. “Sorry, Thornton, but it sort of worked out, didn’t it?” He gives me a weak smile.
I shove his shoulder playfully. “If this is your definition of things working out, then sure.”
His expression falters into a frown. “There’s one more thing.” My expression mimics his. “When we were patching you up earlier this month, we found something.”
“What?” Like a growth or something?
“We learned a while ago that all Dark Forces soldiers have trackers in them. It tracks their vitals, location, lots of things. Well, we found one in your neck.”
I flinch and go deathly still. What the fuck? Did Roman tag me at some point?
“Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought. You had no idea, did you?”
I shake my head and try to understand what he’s getting at. “Did Icarus do this?”
He pales and shakes his head. “No, this was done a long time ago, Briar.”
“How do you know that?”
“Hey, I need your help with this, come on,” Callum interrupts, and Grahm quickly acts like we weren’t just having a deep conversation about important shit.
What does it mean if I had a tracker? I smooth my hand around the back of my neck and frown. This was way deeper than I wanted to get. I try to push it to the back of my mind until we can talk more tonight.
“I’ll be dancing by the speakers,” I say to them both as I trudge up the hill. There’s a dusting of snow on the ground and soft flakes that fall aimlessly from the sky. It couldn’t be a better night to let the world fall to the back of my mind.
For the briefest of moments, I wonder where Icarus is. Did they end their mission? Did they get what they wanted?
“Stay where I can see you, Briar,” Callum calls out as he watches me walk ahead.
I give him a fake smile and nod. He knows I won’t do anything to lose my “upstairs” privileges.
I’m not used to the higher elevation and how it fucks with the weather. It’s fall, and yet there’re already nights dipping below thirty and mild snowstorms.
My eyes focus on my boots as I make it up the hill. It’s strange, I don’t remember ever being in the forest during the onset of snowy nights, but the scent of pines and the brisk dryness of the air and snow stirs a familiarity within me.
I shake the feeling and focus on just dancing.
The music booms through the crowd. It’s warm with all the bodies and the usual bonfire. The sun has already set, and every other person is at least three beers into their night.
I put my hands in the air and rock my hips. Two songs into the evening and someone is already behind me, wrapping their hands with mine in the air. A sensual smile pulls at my lips.
I almost feel bad because they have no idea what kind of shit show they’re walking into with me.
Their fingers glide down my wrists, slowly feeling my skin and gently exploring the scars along my arms. It sends chills through my entire body, and butterflies flutter through my stomach.
They dip down and place their lips close to my ear.
“Hey, Squirt.” His voice is broken.
A sharp breath tears through my chest, and I abruptly put distance between us. I whirl, glaring at the man standing before me.
Roman.
He looks like a wreck. His eyes are dark, and redness blooms around them like he’s been suffering. It’s almost enough to make me laugh. How dare he be tortured by his own design.
I don’t know what to say to him.
He clearly doesn’t know what to say to me either.
We stare at each other as the bodies dance around us and blur until all that’s in focus is us.
He firms his lips, and tears brim in his eyes. He opens his mouth a few times to say things he can’t give words to.
I don’t know how to react. My heart is at war with everything in my head. He left me to die.
“Briar.” Roman finally gets the word out as he takes a step toward me and reaches for my hand.
I take a step back, eyes widening with the rush of emotions that have evaded me for weeks—seeing him breaks something deep inside me. “How dare you touch the scars that you allowed to grow,” I say with a shaky breath, drawing my hands to my chest to comfort myself.
Roman’s tears build more, and he shakes his head with guilt, biting his lower lip. “Briar, I—”
“You left me!” I shout, startling him and bringing his attention back to my face.
His misery is contagious. “I know,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his cheeks and wrenching at my heart.
“You used me and lied to me.” I wipe my tears furiously. I don’t want him to think these are for him. These tears are for me. For what he did to me. “You promised you wouldn’t let anything happen to me,” I say softer, and my throat constricts.
Roman’s hazel eyes narrow, still glazed with tears, and he nods. “I know I did, baby.” He closes the distance between us and wraps his arms around me. I fight his embrace and unsheathe my knife. He doesn’t react to it, only watches with the same hurt expression.
“Why did you do this to me? Why? Why!” He tries to hug me again, and something snaps in my mind. I don’t want him to comfort me. I don’t want him to make it better. All I want is to stop hurting.
I plunge my knife into his chest.