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SAWYER

T he next day while I’m in class, I get a message from Clare Duffy asking me to come to the Briar Club at twelve-thirty. What the hell is this about?

Normally, a summons from her would make my heart kick into high gear, but I’ve been through too much lately for it to make an impact. Pushing my sweater’s sleeve up so it’s not draping over my knuckles onto my phone’s screen, I wonder whether there’s some way Clare could use Brad’s death against me. The police never said, but I’m sure she was one of the people he sent terrible messages about me to.

A cracking sound makes me jump, and I look around sharply. It’s not a gunshot, of course. Just a tablet dropped on a desktop.

Exhaling slowly, I grimace at myself. Come on, I think. The thing that happened to Brad happened because of something he did. Karma or revenge or whatever. Or if it wasn’t, then it was random, and the Florida sniper is thirteen hundred miles away.

Sniper. Sometimes, I can’t wrap my head around that. A sniper killed my brother.

I don’t answer Clare’s text.

She sends another, which I also ignore.

I will find out what she wants, but I’m not going to play the eager freshman inductee. My days of kissing Clare Duffy’s ass are over.

When class ends, I walk to north campus and take a bus to the Briar Club’s block. My phone buzzes as I exit the bus.

Jamie: Done with class?

I’m happy to get his text. I don’t even know why.

It’s drizzling, so I don’t stop to answer until I’m under an awning.

Sawyer: Summoned to Briar Club by Clare Duffy. Going to see what’s up.

Sawyer: We can talk after. Pick me up?

Jamie: definitely

When I ring the bell, Clare answers the door herself. She’s wearing navy trousers and a navy and bronze GU knit shirt. Without makeup, the bluish shadows under her eyes make her look exhausted.

“Why am I here?” My voice’s hard edge communicates plenty about my mood.

Clare’s eyes narrow, and I can tell she wants to dress me down. A moment later, though, her expression shifts to neutral.

After crossing the empty foyer, she opens the drawer of a console table near the door. “I wanted to give you this.” Her fingers shake slightly as she holds out my mom’s vintage Briar bracelet. I wonder if Clare’s shaky because she’s furious. If so, why is she returning it?

“I don’t understand.” My gaze fixes on her face.

“You’ll bring the bracelet with you on the day of the Induction Ceremony. Don’t start wearing it until after.”

“Why give it to me now? And why were you wearing it the other day?”

She starts to glance away but forces her eyes to meet mine. “I traded my modern one for this one because I prefer the vintage style. But it was your mother’s…”

What bullshit. Clare’s wardrobe is all sharp angles and modern. She’s the last person you’d find in vintage or boho.

Her thin hand makes a vague gesture. “I realized it should go to you because of the family ties. So, here it is. You want it, right?”

More bullshit. Clare knew all along I was a legacy and that I was hoping to get my mom’s bracelet back.

Taking it, I cock my head as I study her. The tension in my shoulders worsens. “What’s going on, Clare?” Licking my dry lips, I grip the bracelet tightly. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she says, “No games. If you were angry about the bracelet, now you don’t need to be. Correct?”

“I guess.”

She leans closer. “Just let it go, okay?” With a slow breath, she finally takes a step back. “If you complained to him, I expect you to let him know it’s been returned to you.”

“Complained to who?” For a moment, I think she’s talking about Brad and that she hasn’t heard he’s dead.

“Jamie O’Rourke.” Clare draws back as she says his name. As if she’s afraid.

A shock rolls through me, stiffening my muscles. “Why are you worried about what Jamie thinks?”

“For the obvious reasons.” The tone of her voice cools as she folds her arms across her chest.

“It’s not obvious to me.”

“No? Are you sure?”

I shake my head.

“Brad called you a cunt and apparently grabbed Ashling Patrick in front of members of the C Crue. Now, Brad is dead. It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out James O’Rourke is deeply involved with dangerous people. And that he doesn’t make idle threats.”

“Are you saying Jamie threatened Brad?” I stare at her, trying to work out if she’s making things up to drive a wedge between Jamie and me.

She holds out her hands in a stop gesture. “You have the bracelet. From now on, I’ll stay away from you. I’d appreciate if you’d do the same.”

As if I had any other intention. Clare is the last person I want to spend time with anymore.

Still, an uneasiness settles in my chest because it’s clear Clare knows things about my friends and my life that I don’t.