Page 2 of Wilder
My jaw works to the side. He’s not wrong. I slide down the wall next to him, then run the backs of my fingers over Echo’s cheek. Quietly, I murmur, “Hang in there. Both of you. We didn’t do anything wrong and were together, anyway. We’re each other’s alibis. We’ll be okay.” I lower my voice further. “That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway.”
The sound of sirens screaming through the night stops us from discussing anything more. Beckham emerges from Royal’s room and holds up a hand, gesturing that we should stay put as he walks downstairs with his phone to his ear. I can make out his footsteps, and before he gets to the last step, there’s a sharp rap of knuckles on the door, along with a few rings of the doorbell. The music continues to pump through the house as if nothing has happened. I doubt anyone will notice their fun is officially over until the cops begin to corral them for questioning. A shit ton of people partying in a frat house with a double homicide upstairs—I wouldn’t want to be the one in charge of the investigation, that’s for damn sure.
Getting Royal’s attention, I motion with a slight jerk of my head that I’m going to the end of the hall to listen, then point at them with two fingers, then to his room, hoping to get them to move. He nods, immediately going about helping Echo up. It’s probably for the best that she doesn’t hear any of the investigative stuff that’s about to go down in that room. It’s bad enough we’ll all be questioned, and they likely won’t let one ofus be there with her. They’ll come up here to clear each room on their way down the hall to make sure the perpetrator isn’t still present in the house. Like they did before. My gut pitches and rolls, another memory smacking me upside the head and taking my breath away. Police officers had flooded my childhood home like a swarm of bees, buzzing and buzzing around me. This isn’t happening. Can’t be.
But it is.
My brain spins out. There are dead people in Beckham’s bed. I can’t get that phrase out of my head. It’s stuck there on repeat, taunting the fuck out of me. Who would want to kill Freya, anyway? She was a self-absorbed girl, sure, but seemed harmless enough. And that ass Zane was a jerk, but that doesn’t mean he deserved to die.
As soon as Echo and Royal enter his room and shut the door behind them with a quiet click, I turn my attention to what’s going on downstairs.
“I don’t know how you want to handle this. The only people who know what happened are upstairs. We wanted to make sure no one else came up and stumbled upon the victims,” Beckham smoothly states.
There are some low-pitched voices that are too quiet to discern the speaker or what they’re saying, even though I’m listening hard.
Beckham’s voice, though, comes to me crystal clear. I believe he’s speaking rather loudly on purpose. He knows me. He’d know I’d be listening. “No, we haven’t told anyone else. We found them, turned right around so we didn’t disturb anything, and called for emergency help.”
He pauses to listen again, but I can’t make out exactly what’s being said. A disgruntled noise, almost a bellow, explodes from one of the officers, and Beckham gives a surprised laugh in response.
“Well, pardon us for not knowing what proper protocol is,Detective. Not sure how we keep people from leaving a party without creating a panic,sir.”
Fucking hell. Those jabs tell me that Beckham is facing off with Brian. Exactly what I don’t need right now is my brother-in-law breathing down my goddamn neck, asking me questions I don’t have the answers to. I chew on my lip, agitated, as I wait for more to be said.
“No. Um, speaking of protocol, should you be here with your wife’s brother upstairs?” There’s a brief pause. “Seems like a conflict of interest to me.” I know the standard-issue Beckham smirk that probably comes with that amused tone of voice. I can just bet it’s pissing Brian right off.
Finally, I’m able to hear another voice, and it’s a gruff one, like the man is older or a smoker. “He’s right. You gotta step back on this one unless there’s an emergency situation in here we can’t handle. We can’t afford to have the investigation compromised in any way.”
Brian doesn’t verbally respond. Little bitch probably stalked off since he didn’t get his way. He knows damn well I’m here, so he had to know he wouldn’t be allowed to stay. Nosy fucker.
The sounds of multiple people traipsing into the entryway meets my ears. One of them calls on a radio for additional backup, and it’s only two seconds later that the beginning of the chaos lets loose as the first of the partygoers realize something is going on.
“Holy shit! Cops!” some girl shrieks. The amount of flustered, drunken curses filling the air as people scramble for the patio door would be funny if I didn’t know what I know and hadn’t seen what I’ve seen. My stomach churns uncomfortably at the horrific reminder.
“Everyone, stay put!” one of the officers barks. “No one is in trouble. This is not about any quantity of alcohol or drugsyou’ve consumed tonight. You’re not in trouble for ignoring the noise ordinance.” The officer pauses to clear his throat before raising his voice to be heard above the madhouse. “We have a situation, and we simply need everyone to stay in the living area with these three officers. Don’t leave until we’ve spoken to you, please. We’ll be getting everyone’s name and info and asking you a few questions before you’re permitted to leave. We need you to cooperate. Again, no one is in trouble, but if we find out you left without speaking to an officer first, that’s where we’ll have a problem.”
“What’s going on? This is dumb as fuck.”
I roll my eyes, recognizing Wyatt’s voice.Go figure one of our guys would act like a dipshit.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss anything about an ongoing case. Everyone stays right here in this area.Don’tgo anywhere unless you’re told to.” His demand leaves no room for discussion, and I hear the collective groan of SIN brothers, TZE sisters, and our other guests. At the same time, footsteps approach the stairs.
I don’t want to be caught awkwardly listening, even though I’m doing nothing wrong. All I was attempting to find out in the first damn place was whether or not Brian was still here to cause trouble, and I don’t think that’s the case. Exhaling quietly, I turn on my heel, darting quickly to Royal’s room as I hear Beckham again.
“Come on up, I’ll show you. It’s, um. My room. My bed.” His voice is even-keeled, not a shake to it. I don’t have a fuckin’ clue how he’s managing it because I’m on the verge of losing it again. For those few minutes where I’d been caught up in the arrival of the police, I’d been able to set aside what’s behind the door at the end of the hall, but now that I’m looking in that direction, the knowledge of the tragedy slams into me all over again.
There are dead people in Beckham’s bed. A full shudder runs through me, and my insides turn inside out rather violently asI let myself into Royal’s room. I don’t even look up to see what Royal and Echo are doing, but I know they’re there, watching me. My ass meets the door, and I catch myself with my hands on my knees, bowing my head.Fuck. Get it together. This shouldn’t be affecting you by now.I heave out a breath.They’re wondering why you puked in there, why you couldn’t handle some blood and gore when you routinely cut open cadavers in your anatomy courses to study the workings of the human body.
“Wilder, man.” Royal’s hand meets my shoulder and squeezes lightly. “You okay?”
For several seconds, I don’t move and neither does he. I want to go back to the night we first kissed, back to when my emerging feelings for him were the most complex thing I’d deal with this week. I blink a few times, then push myself upright and straighten my spine, nodding as I finally meet his eyes. I hope he doesn’t see the horrible truth hiding there.
I’m not okay, but I can’t let anyone know. “Yeah. I’m good. They’re on their way up. Probably gonna check all the rooms before heading down to Beckham’s.” I glance toward the bed to see Echo curled into a ball with her eyes shut. “We need a pair of pants for her before the cops barge in.” She’s only wearing the T-shirt she’d changed into after getting a drink dumped on her downstairs. It seems like an eternity ago that Beckham’s drunk ass made that terrible joke equating the red stain on her dress to a murder scene. What are the fucking odds he’d say that and then?—
Dead eyes stare at me as sweat trickles down my back.
At another squeeze from Royal’s hand and a look of concern bleeding from his eyes, I give myself a firm shake.Fuck. You can be strong. You have to be. For her. For both Beckham and Royal. For all of us. Let the fighter out. No one ever needs to know.
TWO
