I scan the crowded bar ahead of us, freezing on the man she’s described.
“Him?” I ask. Needing confirmation, I lift my chin in his direction and watch as she tracks my gaze. I clench my jaw when she dips her chin nervously.
Fuck. Justice Thompson.Suddenly Giovanni’s obsession with Briar makes a lot more sense. The information in her head could be key to bringing down the network.
I’m so busy thinking about the possible implications that I don’t notice Briar slumping forward. Her forehead falls into my shoulder, and her body goes lax in my arms.
“Hey,” I try pulling her back, my voice sharpening, especially when I see her eyes are closed—she looks like she’s falling asleep. “Briar. Look at me.”
She does, but her gaze is unfocused. Her pupils blown wide, her eyes glassy in a way that has my blood pressure rising. I check the table. I ordered her a drink when we first arrived but she’s barely touched it. Sure enough, it’s still nearly full, ice melting just in front of us.
“Koen?” Briar says my name, instantly earning my full attention. She sways on my lap, her lids heavy. “I—I don’t feel so good.”
That little voice inside needles me again. Something isn’t right, she’s acting like she’s wasted, yet she’s hardly had anything to drink. She’s been with me the whole time except for?—
I grip her chin, bringing her head back up to face me. The sudden movement catches her by surprise, and I’m faced withwide blue eyes staring back. Her pupils are blown wide now, there’s no mistaking it.
“What did you take?” I demand, my tone sharpening.
She blinks slowly at me. Confusion etching her delicate features.
“When you went to the bathroom, what did you take?” I ask again, growing more annoyed. I hadn’t thought of it before but, fuck, that would explain how she ended up indebted to Gio—her apparent money problems. I reach for her purse, lying abandoned next to us on the booth, peering in quickly but not finding any evidence of drugs.
Briar’s eyes soften, and start to close again.
I shake her roughly. She needs to stay awake until I can figure out what the fuck she’s on.
“Not nice,” she grumbles, her bottom lip poking out.
“Briar.” I have to say her name twice to get her attention, asking her again, “Briar, what did you take?”
She doesn’t respond and I glare down at her, my voice growing more commanding, “Tell me what you took.”
“Nothing,” she mumbles out. She falls forward again, trying to rest her head on my shoulder, but I shake her again.
She scowls back at me this time. “Stop it.”
“Don’t lie,” I bite out, my voice full of venom. I have no patience for drug addicts or liars.
“I’m not.” For a second, her eyes clear, her focus sharpening with her growing irritation. “I didn’t take anything! I’m not a drug addict.”
I scoff and she glares at me.
I grab hold of her chin and lean in. “Tell me what happened in the bathroom.” I enunciate each syllable in an effort to keep my control from snapping.
“That’s private. No boys allowed.” Her words slur again and she smiles to herself.
“Briar.” I say her name, sharply enough to get her to finally open her mouth, and she rambles over her journey to the bathroom, the girl on her knees—and the collar—but when she gets to the part about taking a shot in the bathroom, I stop her.
“What shot?”
She shrugs. “Tara gave it to me.”
“Who the fuck is Tara?” I growl, losing my patience. By this point, Liam’s joined me, looking at Briar with concern in his eyes.
“They said I was too tense and I needed to loosen up. It was vodka, I think.” Her nose scrunches up in a way that would be adorable under any other circumstance. “I hate vodka.”
I study her. One shot wouldn’t do this. Briar’s acting like she’s at least ten shots deep.
