I groan and try to move to sit up, only to realize someone’s holding me. We aren’t moving. I’m in someone’s lap. I try to think coherently, but the throbbing headache is making me disoriented.
“Briar, are you okay?” A fuzzy voice echoes through my head.
“Fuck, you’re such an asshole.”
“Why didn’t you give her the helmet?” Another voice, clearer this time.
Three separate males are bickering at the person holding me. They are recognizable, but I can’t focus on anything right now. All I know is that my head hurts really bad and I’m extraordinarily tired.
I groan again and bury my face in the crook of the person’s arm. Some part of me guesses that it’s Roman holding me, but his bitchy exhale as a reply to the others confirms it.
Where are we? How did the race end?
Roman sets his other hand gently on my shoulder. I flinch and draw myself closer to his chest. He pauses before setting his hand down on my head instead, brushing hair away from theside of my head that hurts. His fingertips skate over the tender skin, their coldness sending a shudder through my bones.
“I told her to hang on,” Roman mutters with zero empathy.
“What do we do, Syxx? There’s no way Grahm fucking Sutherland isn’t a gatekeeper. We confirmed it. What the hell is he doing with her?” John’s voice is threaded with concern, although it doesn’t sound like it’s for me.
Roman’s last name is Syxx? My mind snags on that information for some reason more than the other concerning things they’re saying. I blame my pounding headache.
“Hmm. Yeah, I agree. Which means she’s undoubtedly involved in some part of their plans. She might even be one of them for all we know.” Roman’s grip on me tightens.
One of who? What are they talking about?I try to sit up again. This time, I’m able to prop myself up with my arm. I’m met with Roman’s intense stare, unreadable as always—and stupidly handsome beyond all reason.
“Ow.”I wince as pressure shoots through my brain, and I press my palm to the side of my head.
John is at my side in a second. “Briar, are you okay? Let me drive you to the next town over. There’s a hospital?—”
Bensen cuts him off firmly. “No, I can patch her up at her farm. She’s likely concussed. Let’s head over there, and I’ll get her taken care of.” They all share an uncomfortable look. Well, all of them except Roman. His eyes are still firmly planted on my face, observing me like he’s waiting for me to bite him or spread wings—or shit gold.
There’s no way in hell that I’m letting them go to my farm. I shake my head and try to stand, stumbling and about to hit my knees before Roman snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me back into his lap.God damn it.
“Everyone, head back to bas”—he clears his throat—“the shop. I need to take care of our little problem here.” The group gives him ?disapproving glares.
“She’s hurt. At least give her the night before you—” Taylor cuts himself off and grits his teeth. “Fuck. Just take her home tonight. We’ll figure this out tomorrow, okay?”
Bensen and Gale nod. John folds his arms. “I still think you should take her to the hospital in Bascliff. Her head is still bleeding a bit.” John’s voice is pained.
Bleeding? I lift my hand and dab my temple with my sleeve. A red smudge is left behind on the gray fabric.Not that it matters with the stains already there.A worried itch pulls in the back of my head.Where is Hailey?What the hell, how much can go wrong in one freaking night?
Roman sighs. “Fine, I’ll take her to the fucking farm on one of your motorcycles. But stay up until I get back. We need to discuss what happened tonight. Keep an eye on Sutherland until he leaves.”
John grabs my hand and squeezes it before saying, “I’ll drive her, and you can follow behind. Look what happens when she’s left with you.”
Roman gives John a death glare. “I won’t tell you again,Bishop.”
John’s mouth firms, and he swallows whatever it is he wanted to say before giving me one last troubled look before moving aside. Roman stands with me in his arms and doesn’t wait for John or the others to acknowledge us leaving as he carries me away. There’s some grumbling behind us before the others head back to the party to do… I don’t know what.
What the fuck are they doing? Are they undercover cops or something? They’re acting so strange. Is this what small-town cults do?
It’s much darker than it was earlier, and I can’t see the light from the bonfire anymore. “What time is it? Where did everyone go?” My voice is hoarse, and I’m just realizing how dry my mouth is.
“You were out for over an hour. The party is on the other hillside. We couldn’t exactly let everyone see my injured passenger after the race, now could we?” Roman says with an unapologetic tilt to his heavyset frown.
I grunt at him and shut my eyes. “I’m going to the police in the morning, asshole. You guys are going to be in deep shit.”
Roman cackles, the vibrations from his laughter roll through me. I glare up at him. It’s hard to distinguish his features clearly in the dark, but I catch the locks of hair that fall over his brow and the slight amusement that flickers across his gaze.
