Page 67 of The Burnt Heart

His fingers went limp in my hands, and I looked up. Caught his gaze, each fleck of gold in his eyes dulled. Briar’s attempt ata smile was a grimace, twisted into something grotesque at my shocked expression. My chest burned with an inferno.

“Briar,” I whispered, but he shook his head rapidly.

“He came back the next week with paperwork that proved he was a state appointed tutor. I’d been accepted for extended learning, apparently. My foster parents didn’t care. I was one body underfoot. They couldn’t get me out of there fast enough. I tried to fight, at first. But he promised he’d ‘tutor’ Jesse and Logan as well. So, I did what he wanted. I gave in so damn easily. Let my mind go somewhere else. I needed to escape.” My breath hitched on soft sobs as he continued. “Afterwards, I found it hard to pretend. That’s where Nicole comes in. She was always by herself, quietly reading. So, I did the same. I told Jesse and Logan I needed down time after learning. But, I—I needed—I needed a moment to rebuild myself.”

“How long?” I didn’t want to know. My temple throbbed with a violent heat. It pressed in on me, made me want to gnash my teeth. Briar flinched, and I realized I was squeezing his fingers too tightly.

“Until we aged out. Alex offered to get me someplace to live, but I’d rather die. I’d spent years using Nicole to shield me from Jesse, Logan, anyone who wondered why I wasn’t acting like myself. I always felt guilty about it. She thought we were best friends, and I was just using her like a port in a storm. Then I sailed away and never gave her a second thought. When she popped back up, it felt like a chance to be her friend for real. To atone for when I was younger. But I just messed that up as well.”

He shrugged and made a half hiccup, half sobbing noise. I cracked inside, and I hauled Briar toward me, smothering his choked exhales with a desperate embrace. He bowed in my clawing grip, fingers snagging on my clothes.

“I’ll kill him,” I promised through my teeth. My blood rushed like acid through my veins, and I gripped Briar’s head, lookingdeep into his downcast eyes. The shame was potent, an oily residue on his soul.

“I tried so hard to forget. When I met you, it felt like a sign, a shot at redemption. You looked at me like I wasn’t destroyed on the inside. I pushed it all down. I wanted to be perfect for you. To be someone you would be proud to love.”

“I am proud of you,” I whispered to him, fiercely. “What happened wasn’t your fault. I need you to know that. He preyed on you, a child. You’re my perfect Briar.”

“He used to call me Bry or his sweet Briar Rose,” Briar whispered into my neck, his warm breath tickling. “That’s why I hate nicknames. It reminds me of him.”

My veins surged with the need for vengeance. My nostrils flared wide as I tried to calm myself.

“I understand. I understand,” I chanted, wanting him to know how his secret hadn’t changed what was in my heart. What would always be in my heart. He was mine. I let a wet breath shudder out into his curls before pulling away. His arms tightened momentarily, like he wanted to stop me.

“Thank you for telling me. You can trust me. I know we’re not—we’re not together. But I will always love you, no matter what.” There. I said it. What had never lessened inside of me. Briar needed my love right now. His lashes brushed his cheeks as he dipped his head once. Small, too small. Like he didn’t believe what I had admitted.

I scooted off the bed and over to his bookcase, ignoring the sharp inhale he made. I ran my fingers along the spines until I saw a book that caught my eye.

“Do you want to read together?” I asked, making myself comfortable on his bed. He hissed through his teeth, like the offer caused pain. Before shooting off the mattress and grabbing the closest book.

“Can I sit next to you?” he asked tentatively. I moved to the side in silent agreement, and he pressed in beside me. The room was silent except for the slip of pages between fingers. My chest was still aching from our raw conversation, but there was a lull, a comfort in the in-between. In the cramped space of the pages, I felt the spark of something I had thought long dead. I barely recognized it.

A wish, a dream, a once in a million chance.

Hope.

31

Adelaide

“Don't worry about me,” Lara teased. I could hear the inaudible murmur of a voice, distinctly frustrated. Over the video call, she’d pressed herself up against a wall. All I could see was gray paint and the corner of a chipped wooden frame. Lara laughed at my inspection, distorted.

“You could—” I started, and her indulgent smile fell.

“Let’s not get into it, Addy. I’m safe, and you have far more important things to worry about.”

I chewed my bottom lip, in an effort not to press her. Low-level anxiety had become my norm, and it wasn’t in my nature to let things go. I don’t think she appreciated the Herculean effort it took for me to stay silent. I was being overbearing right now but couldn’t help myself.

“Maybe when all this is over, we can re-visit.” I couldn’t keep the probing tone from my voice. I only needed one clue. One measly clue and I could track down where she was staying.

“With the boys? Or without?” Lara drawled. She was still annoyed about my ‘elopement’. Not buying it any more than Jonah did. I hoped it seemed believable to those who weren’t in my inner circle. It had certainly felt real when I woke up in Briar’s tangled embrace this morning. His hard cock nestled against the crack of my ass. A rush of heat flooded me. I’d fallen asleep while reading and we’d ended up pressed together, like magnets. Since he told me about what had happened to him when he was younger, we had been reading together semi-regularly. But I could not deal with waking up next to them. My body didn’t understand why it couldn’t indulge.

“Any news?” I changed the subject. Lara had reached out to Ray at my behest. There had been nothing from him, and the silence was making my skin crawl.

“Nothing, but why would he message me?” Lara scoffed, and I looked at my computer screen with a scowl. Ray hadn’t reached out to her. Ray hadn’t reached out to me. Did that prove he was in on this? I needed a drink, or ten.

“Just keep that burner on you. He probably doesn’t trust it’s your number,” I sighed. We shared our heightened paranoia. You didn’t grow up in this world without cultivating a hypersensitivity to everything and anything. I drummed my fingers on the desk. Even with the stress, I hadn’t been overwhelmed by dark thoughts lately. I refused to think of why that might be.

“Let me know if you hear anything,” I sighed and tossed my burner phone on the desk.

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