Page 47 of Forever Relentless

Sutherland’s son had been involved. Somehow. Mason had taken the blame, and Tiffany was dead.

There was no proof. Not yet. But it was enough for the anger in my chest to stop burning wild and start turning useful.

For the first time since I’d stepped into this mess, I stopped thinking about how to get out of it.

I started thinking about who needed to pay.

Chapter 11

Briar

They both stood in my apartment like they’d been here before and expected to be there again.

Like it was . . . normal.

This was so far from normal that I didn’t even like thinking about it, never mind talking about it. But yet again, we were talking about Tiffany Preacher and how she was the catalyst that ruined my brother’s life.

I winced.

God, I was such a bitch sometimes.

Tiffany was not responsible for what happened to her. Mason was not responsible for what happened to her. The only people to blame were in this fucking school, living their best lives, while hers was over, and Mason was barely hanging on.

I rolled my shoulders to loosen the tension and found Noah watching me. His eyes were always on me, I noticed. I wished I hadn’t. Normally, when they looked that good and that fit, I wouldn’t have minded. But . . . he was a few years younger than I was. Still in college. And a footballer.

“How old are you?”

Whoa, where the hell did that come from?

He didn’t even blink. “Twenty-one.” He jerked his thumb at Dante. “Twenty.”

“Why didn’t you declare for the Draft?” I asked him. It was a question I had wanted to ask all three of them. Demand of all three of them really. Sure, the two younger ones might have been too risky for any team to take, but with the weight of winning the championship behind them, and all three of them being crucial to that win . . . I reckoned they’d have been snapped up.

“Haven’t finished my education,” Noah said smoothly. “If I go pro, as a linebacker, I have what, eight to ten good years? That takes me to my early thirties, I have a whole lot of life ahead of me.”

I almost believed him.

“Bullshit.”

Even Diana turned to look at me in surprise. “Br—”

“You’ll be a millionaire. You don’t look like the type to waste it.” I had no background information to back that up, just a feeling. “You play well in those ‘eight to ten’ years, you’ll either be a commentator or a pundit. Especially the way you look.”

“And how do I look?” His mouth was curled up at the corner.

Hot.

“Smug.” I held his stare, knowing he probably saw through me. The pressure of her leg against mine told me Diana was definitely reading my mind. I needed to change the subject.

“Well . . .” He glanced at Dante, whose face was impressively blank, and Noah shrugged. “I can’t do much about that. This is the only face I got.”

“How did they get Mason to leave?” Dante asked, getting us back on track.

I switched my focus back to him. “They didn’t.” I saw both of their frowns. “Tiffany did. She wanted to leave. She wanted home. He took her. They just stopped him from going back.”

The two of them looked at each other, their confusion and surprise not hidden.

“I don’t . . .” Dante licked his lips. “I don’t understand.”