Page 22 of Royal

Chapter 7

Royal

I was given paid leave from work. At least, until things calmed down about Beth’s murder. Really, I knew it was until my name was cleared in relation to said murder. I’d argued and said I didn’t feel as though I needed time off, but the news director had insisted on it.

Better than being fired, I guess.

Beth’s funeral had been that morning, and I’d never felt more uncomfortable in my life. Accusing stares were thrown at me from all over the cemetery as the priest quoted scripture before laying her to rest. Somehow word had gotten around that I was a suspect.

I blamed the assholes I worked with. They’d heard me and Beth arguing the night she was taken, and rumors had spread from there. Some people glared at me and others flinched when I made eye contact with them.

Absolutely ridiculous.

I’d gone straight home after the funeral, avoiding everyone. It worked out, because they avoided me, too.

Paranoia had become a part of my daily life. Any time the phone rang, I expected it to be one of the detectives telling me to come down to the station. Same went for any time someone knocked on my door.

I was innocent, but they treated me like I was guilty. As if they’d already solved the case and only needed evidence against me to close it.

Bastards.

Having become a homebody since the murder, I needed to get out of the house or I’d go crazy. The brutal time at the funeral added to that. I needed a night out.

Brysen had the night off work, so we went to Raw.Probably not the best thing for me to be doing—it could be seen as suspicious for me to be out partying while the murder investigation was underway—but I needed to be around people.

I was tired of sitting at home, twiddling my damn thumbs and waiting to be handcuffed and thrown in jail.

The loud music thumping in my chest, the bodies bumping against mine, damn, it felt good. I tried to forget my worries for a while and just have fun.

“I’ll get us more drinks,” Brysen said, taking my empty glass before stumbling away.

I kept an eye on him as he walked through the crowd toward the bar. Men’s gazes roamed his body, and I was a little protective. Brysen loved the attention—probably why he chose to wear a crop-top that showed off his abs and skinny jeans with holes in them—but some men were animals, and I didn’t fucking trust them.

When I saw Brysen winding his way back over to me, a drink in each hand, I stepped forward to meet him.

That’s when a guy came up behind Brysen and slid a hand around his stomach.

“Hey, sexy,” the guy purred.

Normally, Brysen would’ve been all over that. The guy was one-hundred percent his type: older and handsome. My friend surprised me.

“As much as I’d love to take you into the bathroom and blow your cock, Daddy,” Brysen said, shifting out of the guy’s arms and coming over to me, “I can’t tonight. But maybe some other time.”

After the guy walked off to find someone else, I turned to my friend.

“You didn’t have to do that, B. If you want to go with him, I’ll be fine.”

“Nope.” Brysen took a drink of his long island iced tea and grinned. “Tonight’s for me and you. No other dicks allowed.”

“Then why did you wear that?” I asked, waving a hand at his outfit.

“To tease them”—he waggled his eyebrows—“of course.”

The night with him had been exactly what I needed.

We left Rawaround one in the morning, and since I hadn’t had much to drink, I was able to drive us home. Brysen was really freaking drunk, and I didn’t feel comfortable taking him to his apartment where he’d be alone, so I went to my place instead. After tucking him into my bed, I went into the living room and plopped on the couch.

My eyes had just closed when there was a light rapping on the door.