A PARTY TO DIE FOR!
You are invited by Corbin Claythorne, to attend a themed murder mystery.
Hosted at The Nightingale Hotel & Events Venue.
Theme to be revealed upon arrival – costumes provided.
Clearing my throat, I try to act nonchalant, placing it down in my lap. “When?”
“This Friday. I'm going back to the hotel tomorrow to help with setting up, but I'll come back and pick you up that morning. I know you never want to see him again, and there will be a whole group there so you won't see him at all. I'll make sure of it. Apart from the party, you know that the arsehole won’t be around us.”
Despite knowing all three of them since birth, I didn’t grow up alongside the eldest. There was a big gap in age which meant Corbin was always just out of reach. Each school we went to, he went on to the next. If we played in the garden, he was inside with older friends. He didn’t even sit down for meals with us, already a late teenager. He was going out to parties whilst we had only just started secondary school. Once he’d left for university, I hadn’t seen him again, until he walked into Betty’s tea rooms in a navy tailored suit, just over two years ago. Phinhad begged me to go with him, knowing his brother would spend most of the time berating him about over-spending, not living in London and whatever else bothered him that day. Later I’d gotten a text from an unknown number, asking me out for a drink and I’d thought fuck it. Phoenix had Merle, it was time I too found a love to grow.
There is where the rose coloured world of our relationship was created. The absence of Corbin in my childhood meant he was practically a stranger to me. A familiar stranger that was showing me a scrap of attention. I didn’t realise how desperate I had been for a shred of affection. I wanted someone who would look at me like starlight shone from my skin. I wanted someone who saw me as vibrant colours that lit up their life, encasing us in a world that was dismal grey without each other. The writer in me wanted magic.
I was so desperate to find love for myself, that now all I feel is crippling shame in how emotionally bruised he’d left me. I never told Phin about the emotional manipulation, the gaslighting or how all the mental gymnastics had left me feeling insane sometimes. I knew he'd kill him. All he knew was that his brother cheated our entire relationship and I left him. For the last six months I’d doubled up on sessions with my therapist, but recently she'd brought up Mum and this wretched fucking day, so I was thinking of finding someone else. New trauma I could disassociate from enough to speak about—hell I could even dazzle her with my inappropriate humour, but not old trauma. No. Talking about Mum was a hard limit.
Squeezing my shoulder, Phoenix shifts closer and pulls me into him so my head rests tucked under his chin. He smells like cinnamon and peaches, a comfort combination because it's also the same body spray I use. “You can bring your own beer?” He strokes my hair, playing with one of my curls that has turned golden from the sun.
Even stuck with my inner turmoil, he always makes me laugh. “You're opening a hotel and you want me to bring my own alcohol? That's a joke.”
“It is, but I thought I needed to lighten the mood. Not one person will be happy to spend one minute in Corbin’s company, so if I need to make you laugh all weekend I will.”
Tucking my legs under me, I snuggle in closer to him and watch as Miss Marple gets to work solving murder.
“You're a great best friend you know.” I'm suddenly exhausted, both my heart and eyes heavy from how long today has felt. My disgust for him aside, Corbin's clearly hosting a party he has no taste for on the one weekend that is meant to be solely dedicated to his brother and boyfriend. This is meant to be about Phin and Merle, and celebrating their brand new venture opening a hotel.
“A murder mystery isn't even his thing.” My voice is hoarse, a tear drop rolling down my nose. I don't remind him of how I practically begged Corbin to let me throw a murder mystery party for new years eve. I had just signed with my agent, ready to start editing my manuscript and thought it would have been perfect to host a murder mystery. I would have revealed at the end that I was publishing my debut detective novel. Hinting at the theme of the book, with the evening's game. His laugh had been cruel, like I should have been embarrassed for suggesting something so childish.Instead of celebrating that night, I’d faked a migraine and gotten the train back to York. He hadn’t even looked away from his phone, just lifted his fingers in a quick dismissal and I’d cried the entire journey home.
Even with my best friend cradling my head, I feel just as lonely right now.
“It's super last minute, don't you think?” I mumble, Miss Marple blurring as she examines a crucial piece of evidence.
He starts to rub my back, settling into the sofa whilst he helps himself to my biscuits which are definitely not vegan. “Yeah heonly emailed Merle last week. He won't even answer my calls, the dickhead.” I guess with Phin giving me the invitation in person, there's no excuse I can come up with to get out of this. I want to support him, but I also think this weekend will go terribly wrong.
I want to protest, ask more questions—beg him to refuse his brother, but my eyes have closed and I sink into the comfort he always brings me. Mumbling again, he adjusts my pillow, the soothing circles on my back drags me deeper into unconsciousness. Before I fully fall asleep, I hear him whispering to the one person I miss the most in this world.
“I’ve got our girl, Nia. She'll be ok.”
For my best friend, I'll go against all my instincts and attend this weekend. I'll protect him from anything, including his own brother if I have to.
Chapter two
Robin
WHENwriting my debut novel;Detective Featherton: A Murder Sewn Tight, I hadn’t actually considered the aftermath of getting published. Disorganisation is my middle name, so whilst planning a fictional murder comes easily, sorting my life out doesn’t. After I’d sent over all the necessary information back to Aurora, all that was left to do was pack my luggage, a quick job that turned into hours of me fretting. It was a good job Phin gave me the day to myself, because my panic cleaning and obsessive packing did nothing to crush the nerves about this weekend. I’d kicked myself for falling asleep, especially when I had so many questions. Why had he been away for weeks before the opening? Why did he think his brother was throwing a murder mystery party when he loathed the concept? He was already gone when I woke up, but despite whether he was there or not, I was still going to go support my friends and protect them from whatever chaos was soon to follow.
Running my palms down my dress, I shift my suitcase from one hand to another awkwardly. Petals drifted down in the light breeze, which holds a warmth that promises another gorgeoussummer day. I can feel the heat already soaking into the footpath beneath my chunky sandals.
Before I can change my mind and dive back into my building, a dark blue saloon sails around the corner and screeches to a sudden stop in front of me. The passenger window creeps down and a bright smile blinds me. Wearing a black, short sleeve shirt open, with a fitted black vest and layered jewellery, Phin’s rings catch in the light streaming into the car. His skin looks flawless and he flips his blonde hair back, the long strands on top falling to the side.
“Get in loser! Let’s get this party started!”
Rolling my eyes, I’m unable to hide my own jaw aching smile, because this feels like old times. “Forever the gentleman. Not going to even grab my bags?” He actually was a gentleman; on Wednesday he'd carried me to bed at some point and tucked me in, but he did finish off my last packet of biscuits before crashing on the sofa.
“Baby girl, you know where the boot is.” Humour twinkles in his eyes and he even winks.
Dragging my suitcase and smaller overnight bag to the back of the car, I unlatch the boot and conceal the low grunt that attempts to escape as I lift. I can’t get in the passenger side fast enough, where grabby hands are already waiting for me, so I throw myself into my best friend’s arms. Cinnamon and peach once again encases me in a hug that I’ve known my entire life. Dropping the plastic carrier full of snacks into the footwell, I lock my seatbelt and try to ignore the way his lips are pressing together as he raises eyebrow at me.
