Harlan Briggs Novels & Stories

Everyone turned their heads to look at Julian. Julian’s eyes returned to normal, though he kept his aloof, elegant tilt of his head as if nothing unusual had happened. Briggs let out a low, mocking grunt, rolling his shoulders as his knuckles flared with a tiny, passive spark of heat. He took a direct dig at Julian and his terrifying reputation. "Well, look at you, 'Executioner.' Nice to know your social skills are just as warm and welcoming as they were before the world ended. You're practically a neighborhood ambassador."

Behind him, gun shaking in her hand, stood Helena Carlston. Her wrinkled face unmoving, yet her eyes burned with something dark. Brigs gasped unevenly, turning his head. "Mother…?" Helena didn't blink. Her voice was soft. "You were never my son." Brigs stumbled. Then— He fell. His body fell, light fading in his eyes before he hit the ground. Dead. Silence. One breath. Then— Ina laughed. A gasping, whispered laugh, heavy with fatigue and something else—victory.

I yelled, turning around, squinting my eyes so I could see her through the thick darkness. “Come back, Ghost is here!” she yelled back. Great...just freaking great...I mumbled, walking back. This was our last night at the old farm, the one that used to be our home for the last two years. Pops, our boss, the one who received us in his home and gave us a decent job and a shelter, recently lost the fight with a severe illness, leaving all of us behind, in the hands of a cruel, perverted, narcisistic asshole, named Jack. His only son. As soon as his father died, Jack rushed and sold the farm for the best price he could get, money being the only thing that mattered for him, nothing else, leaving

Hartford bowing to her. Briggs had gone chalk-white, cold sweat dripping down his temples. He had money, sure. But next to the Hartford name, he was nothing. "A misunderstanding… it was all a misunderstanding…" Briggs stammered. "I didn't realize who I was dealing with…" "A misunderstanding?" I let out a cold laugh and walked up to him. "Where was your hand headed just now?" Briggs's entire body convulsed. He dropped to his knees with a thud. "Ms. Sinclair, please — forgive me! I'm scum! I couldn't keep my hands to myself!"

"There was a second party. A man named Howard Briggs. My father." Harper sat down slowly at her kitchen table. "Your father," she repeated. "He and Margaret were colleagues at the firm. He died four years ago. In his personal documents was a sealed file he left with instructions for it to be opened only if Margaret's letter was ever delivered." Samuel Briggs's voice stayed professionally even but underneath it was something personal. The particular strain of someone navigating their own grief while doing their job. "He was more involved in the events of 2001 than Margaret knew. Or than he told her."

Before I can stop myself, the part of my brain suddenly controlled by whatever magic Jasper welds, I fall into Noah, who catches me aptly. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice rough and husky, obviously confirming he is a born and raised Harmony Pack member. An Alpha, especially one of Harmony would jump at any occasion to assist someone. His hands feel strange on my arms, as he tries to steady my shaking legs. If I had control over myself right now, I would have turned around and ran off in the opposite direction. But this mission needs to be completed, or I don't think I'll be able to look Adrian in the eye again.

John offered. “No,” I answered firmly. “Logan…” John sighed. “I said no. He is Siegfried’s son. While I trust him with some things, I cannot trust him with her safety. If Siegfried follows him, he puts her and her family in danger,” I explained. “Okay, you make a valid point,” John conceded. “What about Mikali Hamilton? I’m friends with him. He’s very trustworthy and is a trained medic. So if anything was to happen, he could offer assistance,” Bryant spoke up.

One of the bigger guys starts talking, “You did good kid, boss man set your mate free, she’ll be at your house soon. He’s on his way, so you can go reunite with her like lovesick mutts.” “That is if nobody knows that I helped yet, or I’m good as dead. At least my mate will be safe and alive. I’m sorry Luna.” He runs off. I don’t want his damn apology; I get why he did it now…. I would’ve helped him get his mate back, I would’ve had Wyatt help; It didn’t have to go this way, I’ll get out of it—but that dude is definitely going to get his ass kicked by me. Wyatt is going to be waiting there for him guaranteed, hopefully that boy’s mate will be there to tell him everything and spare him, at lea

“What do you want? Here to confiscate my toaster? Maybe you think I’m smuggling Apex in the washing machine.” Briggs didn’t even blink. “We’re here concerning a Mr. Rogers.” I kept my face a perfect bored mask. “Don’t know him. Was he the neighbor with the weirdly green lawn? Never talked to him.” “He was the man you chased through downtown today. The one who ended up as a hood ornament for a city bus,” Briggs said with his tone dry and cutting. “Cut the crap, Ms. Hayes. We have eyewitnesses. Dozens of cell phone videos actually and they all show you in hot pursuit.”

“You can count on it. I’ll take care of him. I promise.” Harlan turned back to his son, cupping his face. “Be good, okay? Don’t be like me. Look up to your cousin Mason. Be better. Be honest. Live a life I never could.” He hugged his son one last time. Then the officers pulled him away. The boy screamed, but stood on his spot, knowing better than to run after a man who was already destined to die in prison. Next came Elliot Riggs. He looked hollow. His eyes were locked on Aria’s belly, tears silently sliding down his face as if his soul had already left his body.