Page 58 of Framed

Smart man. He knew when to get the hell out of dodge.

I scowled at Briggs. “Someone’s threatening her,” I said, trying to keep my anger at bay. “They’ve been doing it for years. That’s why she went to Tuscaloosa; she got a note ordering her to go.”

Briggs nodded. “I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it? That’s it?” I crossed my arms. I was expecting concern, disbelief. Maybe even anger at Scarlett for not telling either of us about the notes sooner. “You know, I’ve gotten similar notes before.”

Briggs arched a single brow. “Really?”

Bastard couldn’t even be assed to pretend he was shocked. My already narrowed eyes squint harder. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“It’s my business to know what’s going on in that town,” Briggs replied, his tone measured and even.

My fists balled at my sides. “Are you fucking serious? You never thought to mention this before?”

“Xavier—”

“No, spare me your goddamn lectures.” I advanced toward his stool. Briggs didn’t so much as flinch, or stand to meet me. It was as if he expected it. “You knew Scarlett’s been in danger this whole time, and you didn’t stop it. You knew I—” I broke off, my voice a low growl.

I didn’t tell her because I thought I was protecting her. I cut Scarlett out of my life to spare her the same threat I was under. And all this time, she’d been dealing with the same shit. How different things could have been, all these years, if I’d known.

“Listen to me.” Briggs finally rose from his chair. His eyes searched my face cautiously as if I was a lion roaming the zoo freely. Like I needed to be coaxed back into my cage. “I said I will handle this, and I will.”

“Like you handled it all these years? You let me push her out of my life!” I raised a fist, just as Tucker shoved back through the front doors of Sweat. He sidestepped between me and Briggs, catching my eye and shaking his head.

Fury vibrated through my muscles, my veins, every inch of my body. Red flashed across my vision.

“I’m not the one you’re mad at, Xavier,” Briggs called around his new bodyguard.

The asshole was right, yet again. I spun on my heel to storm back to my car.

“You haven’t filled me in yet,” Briggs called, but I ignored him and dropped into the driver’s seat, slamming the door harder than necessary. I peeled back out of the lot, ignoring Briggs’s disapproving stare and Tucker’s worried one.

He was right—in that moment, I didn’t hate him. I hated myself.

chapter twenty four

Scarlett

“I’ll get your assignments done for a month.” Winter pleaded, her voice treading the line of desperation. I pitied the girl. She was on the verge of tears after a phone call a few hours ago, when she’d locked herself in her room. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but I knew we haven’t ventured further into that side of our friendship since that night in the car.

The friendship we shared was more surface level than deep sea. We continued to fill our time together talking about mundane things such as books, TV shows, and occasionally the weather. Safe topics. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was trying to keep me at a safe distance too.

So to say I was alarmed when her door slammed open thirty minutes ago and she came rushing into my room would be an understatement. That alarm immediately dissipated when I caught sight of her freshly-painted face. Dressed in a short black skirt, and a black body suit with a plunging neckline, she looked like she was going to the club and not the football game she’d been begging me to attend.

It’s not that I didn’t want to go. I felt bad for her, sure, but I also planned to spend my Friday night off relaxing. For me, that meant a warm bath and then watching Hawaii Five-O while stuffing my face with Chinese takeout. The idea of going to a home game did the exact opposite, considering I knew Gwen would be there. I’d effectively avoided her and her posse of out-of-reality friends since the disaster of a welcome tour she gave me.

Plus, I couldn’t get that kiss out of my head. It stirred emotions in me that I didn’t want to face. It was everything I expected it to be and more. Which was why I was conflicted. Where did that leave us? What did it mean?

“Football games really aren’t my thing.” I shrugged. It was a lie. I never missed one of Xavier’s games growing up. We even had our own little tradition, both wearing green socks to the game as good luck. “Besides, you’re a business major, how wouldyoube able to do my case studies?”

She scrunched her nose up as if the idea physically made her ill. “I said I’ll get them done. Not that I’ll do them myself.”

“I don’t know…” I trailed off.

“You’ve been moping around since your date with Kane. I thought you two really hit it off.”

“No, I haven’t,” I said defensively.

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