Chapter 12 Robin
Chapter twelve
Robin
OVERWROUGHT voices from outside the room jolt me awake.
I feel disoriented and groggy, but a comforting calmness soothes me thanks to the few lamps casting low shadows and the drawn curtains.
I'm in the small lounge off to the side of the lobby, tucked cosily under a blanket in the nook of the long sofa.
I don't remember getting here, but sandalwood and mint linger on my skin, as well as the feeling it was Wren who took care of me.
Always being able to sense his presence somehow, I know it’s Phin pressed against me without looking down.
His head is heavy on my shoulder, and his chest is bare under the towel wrapped around him.
I quietly slipped my entire body off the sofa, replacing my spot with a giant cushion, covering him with the blanket.
He starts to grumble, but stays asleep. “Stop fussing Wren.” He sighs, shoving his face into the cushion. “I’ll drink it later.”
I look down to see two untouched mugs of what looks like hot chocolate at our feet, so I swiftly move them onto the side table. That confirms he was definitely the one to put us both in here, and I probably crashed before laying down.
Standing on weak legs, I move to the window to let in a little light, when movement causes me to scramble back. Someone in white plastic scrubs and a mask walks past, causing reality to hit me.
They’re here for the body. Corbin is dead.
My numb brain seems to process the information better than it did a couple of hours ago, or was it a lot of hours?
I feel so out of it, it could have been days for all I know.
I don’t feel good, but instead of blind panic, now I just feel drained.
The last time I saw Corbin, he had me pinned against the wall and I couldn’t have wished harder to be rid of him.
How ironic. Now when I think of his swollen flesh and wax like skin, I want to throw up all over again.
Walking over to the closed door, I hear the voices again from the other side, Bran–I think, who sounds like he's completely freaking out.
“This has to be a joke. Seriously? A real murder at a murder mystery party? Wren, you can’t write it.”
“Don’t fucking say shit like that in front of either of them!” I hear Wren whisper hiss, and just knowing he's outside makes me feel safe.
“Mate I’m sorry! I’m just freaking out, you know? This entire weekend is weird and I just feel like we shouldn’t be here. I can't find my Brother and Jay thinks we need to get in touch with Theo now, before the media gets a whiff we're here.”
Wren sighs heavily and I think he slumps against the door I’m leaning into.
He told me Theo was their band manager and he's right, the hotel will be swamped with people soon and that will attract the press if word gets out they're here.
Hell, they'll turn up the moment it's known that there has been a death at a business owned by a Claythorne.
They speak lower and I can't make out what's being said, but a gruff voice silences the whispers; It’s Cardinal. “I can’t find Aya anywhere. Some of her things are gone, but she never mentioned leaving early.” He sounds exasperated, and I can tell even without seeing him, he’s probably scowling.
“Maybe she got into a fight with him and left?” Jay asks him, so he must be out there too with his friends. It’s a good assumption, because he was in a foal mood last night when he did what he did to me. “Does she normally just take off? Are you both close?” He also asks him.
I debate opening the door after his reply doesn’t come through, but then he answers after a long exhale. “We haven’t been close in a long time. Family shit. She would take off, yes. It wouldn’t be out of character for her to not tell me.”
“That's why you're at the party, to meet her fiancé?” Wren asks him.
“It’s none of your business, mate. My Sister told me to be here, and here I am.” Cardinal sounds annoyed, his voice a low growl.
“It kind of is, none of us know you.”
Frantic footsteps slap against the tiled floor.
“Oh behave Wren, let's not start arguing, it'll upset Lily or wake them up.” Merle sounds freaked, but I assume he's referring to myself and Phin, put aside to rest. “Since Maggie hadn’t arrived for work yet, the detective said she's not to come here, so we're on our own. We all need to keep the curtains closed and stay away from the back of the house,” his voice lowers, but he's close enough to the door I can hear him.
“Don't let Lily see them taking away the body, she's a mess.
DS–DC, whatever–the detectives will be in shortly. They're outside with a team.”
“Wren, what the fuck happened to your hand?” Bran interrupts his brother, and I take this as my cue to come out of the lounge, but I hear shuffling feet and all the voices become quieter as they leave the lobby.
I try to make minimal noise so as not to wake Phin when I open and close the heavy door, padding in my socks across the open space till I locate where I can hear talking.
People are in the kitchen, and I pause just outside of the doorway upon hearing a loud slap against marble, along with Willow's shrill voice.
“There is no way I’m staying here when someone's been murdered in the fucking pool!”
“I think the best thing for us all is to stay calm. We don't know what happened to Corbin, so let's listen to the detectives when they speak with us.” Merle is always the mediator, but I don't think it's working this time.
“The blow to his head looked like it had some force behind it.” Jay chimes in, the wrong thing to do because now Bran becomes high-pitched.
“Oh god, part of his skull was just missing. That wasn't an accident, he was attacked. What if they're still here? Let's leave, I’ll go find Mavis.”
More banging ensues, before I push myself flat against the doorframe as Bran barrels out of the kitchen, Merle nearly slamming into me as he halts and causes a pile up of guests behind him.
“I’m so sorry Robin, we didn’t know you were awake.”
Wrens arm yank him back as the now familiar mop of wild curls replaces where he stood. “How are you feeling? You should be resting.”
Our hands crave each other's touch in a way I’ve never felt before.
Is it normal to feel like this with a man you only met yesterday?
Someone I thought I hated for years? Stranger wasn’t the right word, because he’d always been known to me.
His large palm smooths the bottom of my spine, his eyes looking over me with worry.
“I—don’t know. I’d really like a cup of tea.
” My throat is dry and I have no idea how long I've been asleep.
All I remember is Wren laying me down on the sofa, fluttering around with blankets and talking with Merle who came in soon after with Phin.
They gave us something to sleep, but without the aid I crashed hard.
Others file past us into the lobby, Willow managing to whip us with her hair as she rushes by. “Where is my phone and car keys? I’m not waiting around to be involved in some shit I have nothing to do with.”
Like the saint he is, Merle remains calm.“None of us knows what's going on, let’s just wait until the detectives speak with us.” I can tell by his tone this may not be the first time someone has told her this.
“I don’t fucking care. Where is my phone? Car keys? Mavis and I are leaving.” She moves her suitcase further towards the main doors, but her friend isn’t with her, potentially with Lily somewhere in the hotel or now with Bran.
Surprising us all, Cardinal steps up. “Stop acting like a Princess and listen to him. If you go, the detectives will only follow you back to London.” He points in the direction of the gardens.
“The sooner they deal with this the sooner they’ll leave and we can go.
So stop being a little brat and go back upstairs. ”
Stopping in front of the door, she lets her suitcase clatter on its side as she squares up to him. A vein pops in his neck, and the writer in me can’t help but think this is the perfect amount of sexual tension for a good enemy to lovers plot line.
God my brain is not on the straight and narrow right now.
“Do not call me a princess.” She grits, a tension filled silence falling over the entire open space as he bends his neck to lean into her space.
“Then behave and do as you’re told. Princess.”
That’s it. My mind is officially in the gutter.
Merle steps up with hands more firmly held out in front of him.
“I think we should all be a little more sensitive to our friends right now.” His voice drops to a near hiss.
“Phoenix is in that room right there devastated his brother is dead! Show some respect. Both of you. They’re moving his body and then they’re going to probably talk to us all.
I assume they’ll ask questions and unfortunately, you found him so they’ll want to talk to you. ”
Willow’s sharp eyes run up and down him, but to my surprise she nods, before storming straight past us into the kitchen.
Cardinal mutters something under his breath and grabs her suitcase handle and bag, dragging everything as he follows.
I hear him call her a little brat again and I honestly think she may have met her match, or at least a worthy contender.
A man with the most ridiculous seventies inspired moustache enters through the dining room, his tie in a wonky knot and despite wearing a suit, he doesn’t wear it well.
I don’t know if it's his tash or how much wax is in his hair, but I imagine him more comfortable in a bad reboot of Miami-vice.
His shirt is also untucked, underneath his open blazer jacket.