Page 19 of Partners in Crime

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Liv rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Your friends leave first thing in the morning,” Bryce ordered. “When I get up, I want the house spotless and empty. You’re grounded until you learn how to follow my rules. Is that clear?”

Liv only climbed back into bed, her friends shifting uncomfortably beside her. “Turn the light off when you leave.”

Bryce scoffed and walked out, Thea following behind. Needless to say, she didn’t turn off the light, but she did shut the door with an almighty slam that reverberated through every wall in the house.

One thing was certain: Liv surely wouldn’t disobey her sister again any time soon.

* * *

“I think that went reasonably well,” Thea said when Bryce shut her own bedroom door and kicked off her boots. Her feet cracked, bone by bone, as they met with the flat, worn carpet, and Bryce let herself shut her eyes against it for a moment.

Her mind hummed and her chest ached and she felt like the worst parent alive. What had she been thinking, trusting a sixteen-year-old at home in an empty house on a Friday night? When Bryce had been sixteen, she’d probably spent more time high and drunk than she had sober.

But Liv was supposed to be different. Bryce believed she’d raised her to be different. Better.

Apparently not.

When she opened her eyes again, she found Thea rooting through Bryce’s wardrobe. “Mind if I borrow some PJs?”

“You’re staying?”

“Is that okay? I mean… thereisa potential killer in town.”

Bryce had almost forgotten. Somehow, taking care of a teenager seemed far more taxing than dealing with Isaac’s murder. “Right. Yeah. No problem.”

She could do with the company anyway. She knew from countless late nights together that Thea rambled enough before she fell asleep that it would pull Bryce’s attention away from her own seething anger.

“Bryce.” Thea’s soft voice was unexpected enough that Bryce faltered midway through searching for her makeup remover. Her best friend’s blue eyes shone sympathetically, fingers winding around a loose thread from the old, tatty Fleetwood Mac tee in her hands. It would drown Thea, but Thea always seemed to choose Bryce’s oldest, most oversized clothes when she stayed over, which was rare these days, anyway.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t worry about Liv, okay? She’s just being an obnoxious teenager. She knows you only want the best for her.”

Bryce gulped down the lump in her throat and finally found her makeup wipes in her bedside drawer. She clawed the heavy eyeshadow and foundation off to distract herself from the churning sadness in her gut. “Yeah. Sorry I had to cut tonight short. And sorry I yelled at you in there.”

“I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

“No, you were right. I… I lost it. It’s just so hard.” Her voice cracked traitorously, and she glanced down through stinging tears in the hopes Thea wouldn’t notice. “I don’t know how to do it right.”

“I don’t think anyone does, B.” Thea skirted through unwashed clothes and work uniforms strewn across the floor to reach Bryce. “You’re doing a good job, though. She’s lucky to have you.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Thea’s fingers laced through Bryce’s, soft and warm and freckled. And then a kiss was placed on her forehead, stunning Bryce. She lifted her chin, and brushed noses with Thea. It should’ve been funny and clumsy and silly, but neither of them laughed. She heard Thea’s breath catch in her throat, heard her own heart pulsing in her ears. And she couldn’t find it in her to just… move away. Let the moment be done with. She needed Thea close to her, needed —

Her eyes fell to Thea’s lips, pink and patchy with faded lipstick. Needed what? She didn’t know; only knew that it felt as though lightning bolts were forking through her chest whenever Thea got this close. Because she loved Thea. Because Thea was her friend. Because she needed the comfort, and Thea was always so willing to give it. So she told herself, anyway.

Maybe it’s the drink,she thought, as she pulled away and clumsily tried to wipe off her mascara. It was difficult when she was one beat away from bursting into tears. Thea noticed her struggling and took the wipe from her, wiping her eyes gently.

“You’re always looking after me,” Bryce whispered.

“Someone has to.” Thea pulled the wipe away. It was smeared with oranges and blacks and glitter. “You forgot your lipstick.”

The cool wet wipe was a soothing surprise against Bryce’s cracked lips, and they locked eyes again. Thea’s were round and sparkling as mirrorballs, still framed by her own makeup. Her fingers slowed against the wipe, the pad of her thumb following the crease of Bryce’s bottom lips. And then pink smattered her cheeks, and Bryce tried to ignore the disappointment she felt when Thea pulled away, throwing the wipe in the wastebasket and turning her back.

Bryce’s eyes followed her, though she realized soon enough that they shouldn’t have. Thea was shimmying out of her Bloody Mary-stained dress, pulling it up over her arms so that her pale, dainty body was on show. It was nothing that Bryce hadn’t seen before, but it still lit a fire in her that she quickly tried to snuff out. She remembered how Thea had looked at her in the bar. The same way she’d looked at her a second ago. Was Bryce reading into it, or was that look too intense for someone who was just supposed to be her best friend?


Tags: Rachel Bowdler Mystery