Betrayed Then Back For Blood (Briar Jennings) novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Briar didn’t feel the least bit awkward. She glanced at Thomas but kept her thoughts to herself.

Abbie was Abbie, and Thomas was Thomas. She wasn’t the type to take out her frustration with one person on someone else.

Still, the way Thomas looked at her suggested he was holding a bit of a grudge.

Mason, relieved to hear from Briar that Frank wasn’t getting a beating, pulled out his phone and shot Frank a quick message, asking when

he’d show up since class was about to start.

Their afternoon classes were with Jewell Morphew, a younger professor with a much shorter fuse than Joshua.

Jewell’s classes were no joke–he took attendance every session and loved piling on assignments that were way beyond their skill level. You had to take meticulous notes just to have a shot at finishing his brutal homework. It was a nightmare.

Frank replied almost instantly, saying he was on his way.

Sure enough, less than five minutes later, Frank walked in, trailed by a sulky Mia, her head down and her face sour.

Ted and Mason greeted him, with Mason flashing a cheeky grin. “Well, well, Prince Frankie! You in one piece? Any bruises I need to check?”

Frank shoved Mason’s teasing face away, rolling his eyes. “Get lost. Can’t you wish me well for once?”

“It’s just that Ashton’s rep is too terrifying!” Mason laughed, unfazed by the push.

Ted, more perceptive than the boisterous Mason, jerked his chin toward Mia, who had her back to them, silently asking Frank what was up

with her.

Frank shot them a look that screamed, Don’t ask. He walked over to Briar, fishing two pieces of candy from his pocket and holding them out to her. “Here, Briar, have some candy on me.”

Briar blinked, caught off guard by his blatant attempt to butter her up. “Uh, thanks?”

room to hear. “No problem. Ashton told me to look out for you, so I’m not Frank winked, lowering his voice just enough for everyone in the letting anyone give you grief. From now on, you’ve got a problem? You come to me, got it?”

Briar’s lips curved into a faint smile, her cool, commanding posture slipping just a bit. “Got it. Thanks, Frank.”

Seeing her so agreeable, Frank suddenly got why Ashton had called her “polite.” But he wasn’t about to pat her head like Ashton did.

Growing up in a cutthroat elite family, Frank knew how to read people,

Briar might seem easygoing, but he’d heard about her roommate’s ordeal.

A few shoves, and she’d left someone’s back a mess of bruises? Yeah, Frank was a little intimidated now.

“Time’s ticking. We better grab seats,” Charle piped up. “Both afternoon classes are with Jewell Bombhew.”

Jewell had earned the nickname “Bombhew” for his habit of dropping impossibly tough assignments and chewing out students at the drop

of a hat.

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