“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 saidin 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.
