Wren
Three weeks later
ONCEa tiny red head had given her grandmother the metal cutters, Maggie had enabled our freedom and took control of eight police officers, who all looked terrified of her. One guy even whimpered when she pointed her shovel at him. Within less than an hour, they got us all out of the hotel. More sirens blared out as other vehicles came, especially once the officers found the bodies. Bran had sobbed as they carted Jay out under a large cover, but quickly myself, him, Robin and Phoenix had been pushed into an ambulance together when an onslaught of photographers appeared. I knew it would have been a matter of time. Willow was also a public figure, so she needed protection too. Cardinal had taken her and Mavis in the ambulance with Merle, who still was unconscious on a stretcher. Bran had wanted to be with his brother, but we were shoved into the ambulances so fast, they seemed worried that if they didn’t get us checked over quickly, complaints would be filed. I think sometimes people assume that if you’re famous, you’re alsoentitled—which maybe Will could pull off, as she screamed for her luggage, because she refused to leave behind a fifty-grand handbag.
Starling and Lily were carted away in the back of police cars while we were manhandled, but I heard one of the officers patch through his radio that the body in the library was unresponsive. Goldie was as dead. I doubt any of us would tell what really happened; Cardinal had saved us all. Once Roo had left the library, I’d felt my consciousness slipping as I was being strangled. We were still struggling, but all of a sudden I managed to twist him slightly over me and Cardy had been there, hitting him over the head with the gun and smashing his foot into his face.
The moment we left the swamped country lanes, and hit the motorway, one of the ambulance driver's phones started to ring and he sounded incredibly confused. Looking over his shoulder, he’d held out his phone to me and said it was our band manager.Fucking Theo.I don’t know how he does it. Sounding like he was on the verge of hyperventilating, we planned to meet him at the hospital. Turns out he’d gotten stranded in the floods near the hotel and spent the entire week cooped up with a couple of old folks that got him really into knitting, from the refuge of their first floor. Anyway, he met us at the hospital and never left our side as we were checked over, but Bran needed his system flushed from whatever drugs Goldie had gotten him to drink. I knew a giant like him would have been able to break down a hotel door, but to keep him quiet in his room they had drugged and tied him to the bed.
Robin was still bruised and cut up, so I refused to leave her side and charmed the nurses into letting me share her bed. Yes, a single bed. I think the doctors found it incredibly annoying, but with Phin being in the bed next to her, I refused to go anywhere. I got discharged first but refused to leave and then Theo reallydid blow his casket when I told him I wasn’t leaving her until she got better. I shamelessly pulled the talent card and he stormed off, making phone calls to arrange my time off but also figure out how we could all get out of the hospital unseen.
True crime nuts soon found out what had happened and were going wild, the story of Phin and Roo’s mothers making headlines again as Lily was heading to prison and their father would be released with a pardon on his full sentence. He’d been wrongly imprisoned for the murder of Robin’s Mother, but he’d never been charged over his own wife. That had just been speculation. The media was going crazy.
After days of answering questions from the police—the actual police, we all mutually agreed to say that Starling killed Goldie when he tried to help us leave. There were eight guests against two insane criminals. Seriously, they didn’t know if Lily could plead insanity, but she was being locked away all the same. It didn’t matter where. After all the questioning, we all were given new phones—weird what sponsors will do when famous people are in need, and because Phin was completely freaking out about his father getting out of prison, Roo and I agreed to take him back to her apartment.
Bran would stay at the hospital with his brother, which was for the best. Nightingale would be closed until they could come to some agreement on whether to sell it, or one of them decided to run it. Phin already threatened to rip the gates off their hinges, so it couldn't be locked again.
Before we left, men-in-black replicas had moved Cardinal off the ward. A man with an aristocratic aura and a gorgeous, dark-haired woman with an accent had approached us all, not necessarily threatening, but wanted to make sure that anything that happened in the hotel would never be spoken of. Never.Or else,was definitely on the tip of their tongues, they just didn’tneed to say it or have anyone sign a NDA. The same went for their late daughter.
Mavis and Willow hadn’t said goodbye to anyone as they left as soon as they could for London. Bran was heartbroken.
AS weeks passed, the three of us fell into some sort of routine in Robin's city apartment. It was adorable and cosy, houseplants everywhere—all of which needed some attention, and I don’t think their deaths were because she wasn’t home for a week. She’s a terrible plant mum, but I’d never tell her that. Instead, I ordered plant food to her apartment and started keeping them alive behind her back. She’ll figure it out eventually and I’ll beg on my knees for her forgiveness.
Phin sleeps all day and it’s incredibly hard to get him to eat. I caved and got him takeout which went uneaten. While I wrestled him into a shower, she cooked his favorite vegan dish and we decided to watchBuffy the vampire slayerfrom season one. Some days we don’t leave the sofa, others he indulges us by taking a walk through York gardens or we go down by the river. I have to be careful not to be seen, to be honest, we all need to—the media is still going crazy.
What happened at the hotel had completely blown up all over the country. I’d even had to log out of my social media because of the deranged messages I received about photos of me carrying Robin in and out of the hospital. I didn’t know who was worse, boy band fans or true crime fans.
THE machine in the coffee shop hisses as I wait in line, soft music floats above the chatter and I can smell something delicious wafting from behind the counter.
My baseball cap is low over my curls, trying to hide my face, but from below I can see a pair of wide blue eyes and the crazy coloured hair of a teenager.
I wanted to treat Robin to a nice coffee while I’d popped out to meet with Theo for lunch—he needed me to decide when I was ready to be back with the guys. Our last tour of the year was approaching fast and my insides hurt when I thought about leaving her. She’d completely consumed me. All I thought about was if she was okay and I couldn’t sleep at night worrying about having to leave at some point. Did she want me to? Was she politely keeping me around? Respecting that Phin was in the apartment and we all needed time to recover, we hadn’t done anything further in the bedroom. To say my dick was incredibly unhappy with me every night, sleeping with her tucked into my body was an understatement. I didn’t want to push her though, I could wait for as long as she needed. I think it was good for us that we weren’t rushing anything, because I wasn’t going anywhere.
The teenager has clocked me, but I keep my eyes on my shoes and scuttle forward in the line.
“Oh my stars, you’re Wren Hastings, aren’t you?” She whispers, quietly squealing.
“Nope. I’m definitely not that guy.”
She scowls, leaning down to try getting in my line of vision. “Dude. You’re covered head to toe in the same tattoos—you’re not fooling anyone.”
Sighing, I looked up. “I just want to get coffee for my girlfriend. What can I do for you to not squeal or tell anyone you saw me?” Shit. Did I just call Robin my girlfriend?
The teenager with the funky coloured hair squeals quietly again. “Is your girlfriend Robin Osbourne? The writer? That’s who you were pictured with leaving Nightingale House. You both would have beautiful babies.”
I end up smiling. “Thanks—sort of. We would, wouldn't we?”
She nods, smiling like a maniac. “Totes. Can I get a picture with you? There is this girl at school—Becky. Ugh. She bulliesme about my taste in music, but she’d totally shut up if I got a picture with you.”
My spine straightens. “Yeah sure, fuck that girl. Bullies suck. They’re just sad humans who don’t know how to properly regulate their emotions so they act out at others.”
The teenager rolls her eyes. “Ugh, you sound like my mum.”
“Give me your phone.” I say, taking it and making sure no one else in the cafe is paying our conversation any attention. Holding it up high, I lean down and snap a couple of photos. Then messing up her hair, I stick my tongue out and capture one of us both laughing. “Send her that one.”
Handing the phone back, she nods eagerly and swipes through the photos. “She’s gonna flip when she sees these. Your band is so sick but she thinks she's too cool to admit it.”
“Cheers, kid.”
