It’s a quick drive to the tavern, but the parking lot is full. When I see someone pulling out, I pause in the aisle to take their place. Then I recognize the elegant, eggshell-colored sedan and its driver. Clare Duffy is leaving.
Fuck, I’m too late.
In an instant, I backtrack on my thinking. At least she’s not inside cutting me down to other Briars. And I haven’t gotten any texts telling me I’ve been removed from consideration, so that’s a decent sign I hope.
I’d really like to know what’s going on.
I scrutinize the area, looking for the black SUV from Jamie’s place. Not finding it, I press my lips into a thin line.
After I park, I head inside. But I don’t spot anyone I know in the tavern and head out just as quickly.
Now what?
Go after Clare? No, because she lives in the Briar Club house, and I don’t want people asking why I’m showing up to request an emergency meeting.
Instead, I send a text, asking if I can speak with her.
Clare ignores me. As time ticks by, I grow more agitated.
Maybe the best person for me to talk to isn’t Clare. Jamie was with these people tonight. He not only knows what he and Clare discussed, he probably overheard whatever she said to the others.
Pulling out of Bruno’s parking lot, I exhale a breath I’ve been holding.
I’m going to seehim.
* * *
JAMIE
My beliefthat my evening activities are set is short-lived. When I arrive at the house, Ashling’s Camaro is parked in the lot. And worse, as I pull up beside it, I see it isn’t Ash in the driver’s seat.
For fuck’s sake.Sawyer, the stuff of wet dreams, climbs out of the Camaro just as I throw open my door.
As I round the hood, she eyes me the way one would a dangerous animal. “Hello, Jamie.”
“Cranberry Sauce,” I say in acknowledgment, knowing my tone needs to get much rougher. We can’t have an innocent college girl turning up on the property without warning. Too many secrets here need keeping.
She rolls her eyes at the nickname, some of the wariness leaving her.
Not good.
I harden my voice. “What do you want?”
The harsher tone registers, and her expression falters. “I, uh…” Her eyes focus on the take-out bag in my hand. “You’re about to have dinner.” She steps back toward the Camaro. “I didn’t intend to interrupt.”
“Get to the point.” Again, the hardness.
Her shoulders slump. “I would’ve sent a text, but I don’t have your number. I didn’t want to ask Ash for it.”
“But you asked for her car?” I can’t help but scoff. “I guarantee she guards that Camaro more fiercely than my mobile number.” My brow cocks. “Is she dead? Because I can’t see how you pried the keys from her hands, otherwise.”
An uncertain smile plays on her lips. “Ash took pity on me.”
I wait her out.
Sawyer swallows but keeps her tone even. “I wondered if I could talk to you about something?” She glances at the food again. “Maybe not now. Later tonight?” Her determination is ironclad. I’ll give her that.
My body clocks the way the wind is whipping the magenta hair around her face. She’s a gorgeous one all right.
