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.
I can’t keep my eyes from what I see on the bed, but as I look down at the trail of blood pooling onto the hardwood, I see a familiar item that I know should not be there. Darting in, I’m so focused on completely dulling all my senses as I grab it and shoved it under my T-shirt. I try to flatten it around my body so it’s not so bulky, escaping the room quickly and falling back into the wall of the corridor.
“He’s dead—Jay. Oh my god.” Bran breathes choppily, then he gags, the haunting stench of rotting flesh poisoning the air. Scrambling across the wall so I can’t see into the room, I curl my legs up against my chest, partly to keep what I'm hiding out of Sterling's vision.
Screaming starts, but also loud sobs from more than one person. Both detectives step up and peer inside, Starling flinching away as he covers his nose with his bicep.
“Jesus Christ, everyone back to your rooms. Now!” he directs, but no one is listening. Mavis pushes past Willow and throws herself at the open hotel room door, before a sound escapes her throat that I never wish to hear again in my life. Bran pulls her back and bands his arm around her chest, but Goldie moves to separate them and takes her by the elbow.
“No one goes in this room. No one tampers with evidence. This is now a crime scene. Back to your rooms.” Unlike Starling, Goldie always has a firm edge to him, causing the small group to retreat back from the door.
“We’re going to need statements from you both.” He points to me and Bran, but all I’m focused on is not throwing up again and getting myself back to my room. Phin and Robin aren’t in the corridor, and I’m so thankful neither had to witness what I just did. I don't think either would survive seeing another dead body.
“You’re seriously not suggesting we stay here? Someone else—ourfriend, has been murdered! The gates are locked, cars vandalized. We’re not safe!” Willow argues, her head whipping to each person standing in the corridor before landing on me. Her eyes are wide, pleading and she stutters around words that aren’t coming out. She must think we’re all losing our minds, because no one backs her up.
Sighing like he’s tired of her tantrum, Goldie lets go of Mavis and grabs Willow by both shoulders, forcing her to take steps backwards towards her hotel room.
“We said go back to your room.” he grits out between clenched teeth, his face hovering down over her.
My vision suddenly becomes clouded and I’m standing, arm clenched on his shoulder and not thinking of the consequences as I fling him into the wall. I don’t remember even getting up, but suddenly I’m between them and my chest is heaving. The way he loomed over her sent an uncomfortable signal to my brain, memories pounding on a door I sealed flooding my system.
“Don’t fucking touch her.” I don't recognise the rage in my own voice.
Long fingers curl around my bicep and the other subtly snakes underneath my t-shirt, taking what I’ve hidden under there and removes it. Both detectives staring me down don't notice.
“Wren, it’s ok,” Willow whispers, looking around me. “We’ll all go back to our rooms.”
Still in a daze, she pulls at me, leading me down the corridor and away from rising shouts from both Bran and Mavis trying to speak with each other. I didn’t notice Cardinal was there, but his tall frame meets my other side like they’re both shadowing me to my room. I can see each muscle in his arms and hands are taut, but he doesn’t look back as we turn the corner.
Taking the lead of the situation, she knocks on my door and it opens, like Robin was waiting on the other side.
“What’s going on? We heard screaming.” Her eyes frantically roam over all of us, taking in my appearance.
God, I hope she can’t smell sick on me, but that idea makes the bile rise in my throat again.
“I’m going to throw up.” I announce, pushing past everyone and throwing myself at the bathroom door. I find Phin in there, sitting in the empty bathtub fully clothed, knees pressed up under his chin. He says my name in a panic, but I can’t answerhim, instead falling to my knees hard as I lifted the toilet lid and started to violently vomit.
He scrambles out of the tub. “Jesus, are you all right? Robin? Help!”
A large palm rubbed circles on my back, and my body spasmed as I choked on air, my body trying to purge everything out of me like I had toxins flowing through my veins.
“He’s—” I try to warn my friend but images of Jay's body flung on the bed flash before my eyes and I heave again.
I can hear talking in the bedroom before Roo appears, but I can’t look up from the toilet as my eyes and throat burn together.
“Jay’s dead.” she gasps, the hand on my back stilling.
“What happened?” Phin asked, cold air meeting my back as he no longer touches me. “No, no, Robin. He can't be.”
