Chapter 21 Wren
Chapter twenty-one
Wren
BEING held in one place is a funny thing.
It’s completely foreign to me. With being on the road so much, living out of tour buses or fleeting hotels in a different city every couple of days, I’d never stayed in one place for long.
Even at boarding school, I rushed home to London every weekend so that Mum wasn’t alone.
I couldn’t sit still, which is why tour life suited me just fine.
Now, practically being held hostage in a hotel without our phones, outside contact, or knowledge of the law, I’d forgotten the usual craving I felt to keep moving.
I was pretty sure legally they couldn’t contain us here, but DC–DS, whatever Starling threatened to put everyone in a cell and I thought better not to poke the bear.
I needed to court my girl, which couldn’t happen from behind bars.
What a pathetic reason to be locked in a cell.
"Hey, what are you in for?"
"Oh, me? I tried to leave a hotel when I was told not to."
I’d be the laughing stock of the inmates.
I wonder if explaining we were all being detained due to a murder investigation would bump up my cell cred?
That’s if we ever did leave Nightingale House, the slashed tires and locked gates a new hurdle.
Who the hell was doing this? Trashing Robin’s room, the message on the mirror, vandalizing the cars, and locking us on the property?
If I was surrounded by more strangers, I’d probably be more fearful, but mostly everyone here–bar my lovely lady and Cardinal–are in my circle of people.
Hell, even Willow and Lily were surrounded with people I knew more often than not.
All these questions were suffocating as I continued down the hall in the opposite direction of my room.
Robin was safe with Phin in there, so now I needed to check in with my bandmate and make sure he hadn’t been arrested.
Bran didn’t have a temper, but he was passionate, so I knew Mavis cheating must have devastated him.
The two had been childhood sweethearts, but maybe he was just happy with the safety net of having her. She clearly wasn’t.
Fucking hell, Jay had some explaining to do.
I locate the correct bedroom door, knock and wait.
Detective Goldie wasn’t around like a little guard dog, so I’m relieved when the door cracks open a fraction, and Bran stares back at me.
He is a total wreck. His hoodie is well-worn and he wears sleep shorts, a slight musk radiating off him, signaling to anyone who could smell in a three-mile radius that he hadn’t showered.
“Hey man,” I whisper. “The detectives are downstairs. How are you holding up?”
He sags against the door frame, opening the door a little wider, and I lean on the same side from out here.
“Badly. Look man, I’m so, so sorry for shouting and scaring Robin.
I was just so mad at Mavis,” he says, shaking his head with wide eyes, like he can’t comprehend his behavior.
“I’ve never felt rage like it. It scared me. ”
“Robin’s okay. Please don’t worry—we’re cool. She said you reminded her of a grizzly bear.” I try to joke, but it falls flat and I let out a long sigh. “I’m so sorry, mate. You’ve been with Mavis since you were sixteen. This must really hurt.”
“What’s worse is they won’t let me see her.
I just want her to explain. I need her to tell me what I did—or didn’t do—for her to do this to me.
Why didn’t she just cut me loose? I always thought I was just being a good boyfriend, giving her so much space.
I couldn’t exactly ask her for more of her attention when we were so busy on tour.
” He looks down at his feet, coughing a couple of times to clear his throat.
“Maybe I was being selfish, loving her so much when I was never there for her.”
I reached out to place my palm on his shoulder and he leans into my touch.
“Mate, you can’t for a moment think you did anything wrong in order for her to cheat on you.
She fucked up—not you. Yes, we’re away a lot on tour, but so many couples make it work.
When you were together, you doted on her any chance you got.
You were always trying to ring her, video call, you constantly sent her those food parcels from that restaurant she loves. ”
He sniffles and nods once, but still looking at the ground. “I did. At least that’s something.”
I sigh, dropping my arm and crossing both over my chest. I didn’t want to cause him more pain, but both detectives could very well come up here and question him about what we just learnt downstairs.
Jay might be our guitar tech, but my relationship with him ends there.
However, he befriended Bran, and they kept up that friendship for years.
For him to go anywhere near Mavis isn’t acceptable.
That's why he needs to know, but at the cost of not only losing his girlfriend, but his best friend too. “I really don’t want to do this, but you deserve to know. We found Jay’s secret.
Mavis was having an affair with him too. ”
I waited for the anger, tears, anguish—anything. But it doesn’t come. Instead, Bran lets out a bitter laugh and shuts his eyes so hard they crinkle. He continued to laugh and laugh, curling over slightly, but finally straightened up.
“No.” He simply said, trying to smile, but it wobbles.
I don’t really know what to do. Maybe I could go find the secret so he believes me? “None of the secrets have been wrong so far, man. I’m really sorry…” I trail off.
He places a large hand on my shoulder and pats it, whilst I just stare at him bewildered. “Mavis wasn’t having an affair with Jay. We would sometimes invite him into the bedroom, if you get my drift.”
My eyebrows shoot up into my curls. “You shared her?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Sometimes we shared him. Sometimes they shared me. I think because of how long I was away for, we felt like we needed to spice things up. I was getting really close to Jay on tour and found him attractive, but I'd never acted on it. One night we all got drunk in my hotel room and we just fell together. It was meant to be just the once, but when we came home to London, it happened a couple more times. I don’t see her being with him whilst I wasn’t there as cheating, I had Jay just as much as she did. ”
“So you’re bisexual?”
He waved a hand at me. “I don’t like labels. It was just fun. We’d planned to share a room here, but she was acting really strange with both of us.” His expression drops, all amusement gone, because she was actually having an affair, just with someone else.
My mind is reeling.
“You all right, mate?”
I’ve fallen silent. “Yeah, sorry man. My head’s a mess with this murder thing and the investigation. Can’t retain all the information.”
“We don’t have a problem, do we?”
I frowned. “You do know my best friend was dating your brother? A man?”
Now he frowned. “Was?”
“Not my place, you need to talk to Merle.” I palmed the back of my head, pulling at my unruly curls.
“Bloody hell, alright. You just gave me a weird look and I got worried.”
“Dude, I’ve touched some dicks in my time. I’m not a prude.”
He pushes me. “Too much information. Maybe don’t retain that, and you’ll free up your brain for events that happened this week.”
I scoff, “I have a brilliant brain. It wrote all those songs you get money and credits for.”
Now he scoffed, pushing me again until I’m further into the corridor, and he looks both ways before stepping out. “Jay’s room’s next door. Let’s go.
I put my hands up. “I said in my time. I’m not touching anyone’s dick now.”
Bran shoots me a pained look like it physically hurts to put up with me sometimes, but shuffles out and knocks five times in a quick rhyme on the door beside us.
There’s no answer, and after a couple of minutes he repeats the knock to be met with more silence.
“Maybe he’s downstairs?”
“No, I haven’t seen him since the meal last night, actually.”
I try the door handle, which turns and opens with a small click. The moment I push on the door, a foul scent hits us like it had been pressing on the wood, ready to be released like a wave. It flooded the corridor, and I gagged, staggering back.
I think I might actually be sick.
“What the hell is that smell?” Pushing his nose under his T-shirt, Bran steps forward, knocking the door fully open with his shoulder.
Red assaults the white sheets, crumpled and a complete mess in contrast to the neatness of the hotel room. Red coats the floor, shining against the grey light.
It’s cold, the smell of rain hitting us from the open window, wafting another wave of the stench.
My eyes fall on a dark bundle of clothing laid on the bed, a familiar face staring up absently, skin pasty, with an expression twisted in pain.
It takes my brain seconds to accept what I’m seeing, but there, laid on the blood-stained sheets, is Jay’s body twisted, with a large knife protruding from his stomach.
Now I do throw up. Melting into myself in the corridor, I release a puddle onto the carpet and I don’t stop even when Bran starts shouting for help.
I don’t know who reaches us first, if it’s both detectives or the girls coming out of their rooms.
“What are you doing in the corridor?” Goldie shouts at Bran, who is panting and heaving for control with his hands braced on his knees.
Sitting up, I grimace again at the smell, which hits everyone at once.
“What is that smell?” Mavis asks, Bran’s head snapped to her, eyes wide and already tearing up. He tries to speak, gritting his teeth together, putting the back of his hand to his mouth.