Page 103 of Brutal Prince

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.

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