Page 34 of Brazen Criminals

Emma looks up, startled. I don’t know why, but I turn more toward the door so she can’t see the twists Jansen put in my hair. “I’ll take some water, unless you’re drinking?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Not tonight. So, two waters. Guys?”

Jansen smiles in the half-light. “Water would be great.” Walker stretches again, this time turning so his knees are encroaching on the seat I just left. “I’ll take one of my kombuchas. They’re in the fridge.”

I rush into the kitchen, tugging out the twists as best as I can. I’m filling the second glass of water when RJ walks in. “Hey, we’re watchingOcean’s Eleven. We’re about halfway done, but it’d be fun if you join us,” I say, hopeful that he’ll talk to me again.

Instead, he nods with a smile, his curls bouncing, and leaves the kitchen without a word. This is getting uncomfortable.

The bottle of kombucha goes under my arm, and I pick up the three glasses of water in my best waitress hand-triangle to carry all the drinks back to the living room.

I give Emma her water, but when I turn back to the couch, the whole arrangement has changed. RJ is in Jansen’s spot, Jansen is sprawled on the floor with some cushions from the meditation space, and Walker has his legs across the middle cushion. I move to the only open chair, leaving the waters and the kombucha on the coffee table, but Jansen wraps his fingers around my ankle to stop me. “Don’t sit in Trips’ chair. He’s weird about it.”

Walker turns so I can fit back on the middle seat while Jansen puts out coasters for everyone. I drink my water and set it back on the coffee table, but when I sit back, Walker drapes his legs across my lap.

“Get your own space,” I grumble.

He laughs and pokes me with one of his toes.

“Ew!” I yelp.

Walker tickles me with his toes, and I try to leap away, bumping into RJ beside me. Without warning, RJ reaches across me and, grabbing both of Walker’s ankles, twists his wrists. Walker flies onto the floor, half landing on Jansen.

“Gross, man,” RJ says.

An interminable second later, Walker, Jansen, and Emma all bust out laughing. I turn to my unexpected protector, and RJ snickers, a huff escaping as he tries not to join in. That sets me off, and soon we’re all laughing, the movie forgotten. Every time I think we’re winding down, my stupid snort escapes, and then we all start over again.

I miss the knock, but Jansen must have the ears of an owl and the reflexes of a mountain cat, because he’s halfway to the door before the rest of us hear anything. “I’ll get it,” he says, wiping a few tears as he leaves the room.

I down some water, trying to calm myself, but when Emma giggles again, I can’t quite swallow, and after a terrifying moment of almost choking, the water shoots out of my nose instead.

“Yuck!” Emma yells.

Walker is prone on the floor, laughing too hard to get up and help, but RJ sprints to the kitchen and comes back with some paper towels. I yank a few rectangles off and clean the mess up, my freaking sinuses stinging.

Yelling from the front of the house cuts through the last of my chuckles.

I look up, and Bryce is standing in the doorway, his face red and his hair standing up in chunks. “What the hell is going on here?” he roars.

I look down and realize that when I’d clambered off the couch to wipe the table, I’d straddled Walker’s lap. RJ has his hand on my shoulder, kneeling next to me from handing me the towels. Emma has slid out of her chair and is half on the coffee table. I gape at Bryce, seeing fury when there is normally only ice, and I don’t know how to answer. A loud bang sounds on the screen and we all jump. “It’s movie night,” I say.

This, for some reason, starts Jansen cackling again from the hallway. Walker and Emma glance at each other before they go off as well. RJ stands all the way up, one side of his mouth twitching. He offers me a hand, and I stagger to my feet.

“Are you all high?” Bryce bellows.

Jansen ducks around him and gets between Bryce and the rest of us. “Sober as a jaybird,” he chuckles. He looks over his shoulder at me. “Did you invite him?”

I shake my head. That one question kills the last of my mirth. “No. Emma, did you share—” I start, but she’s shaking her head as well, no longer laughing.

The room is silent except for the movie. “Bryce, how did you know where to find me?” I ask, my calm mask slipping on like an old pair of shoes.

“I put a tracking app on your phone years ago. How else would I be able to help if something terrible happened? I love you, Clara. I need to know that you’re okay.”

The calm is cold around me, my voice hollow. “Bryce, you need to leave.”

“Clara, baby, please. You’re not thinking straight. Come home with me and we’ll figure this out. Please, Clara.”

I shake my head, stepping around the table. “Bryce. We’re done. Please leave.”

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