The loft door shuts with a quiet click behind us, and the security system beeps as I lock us inside.
Roo has gone home.
Daniel is dead.
The night can finally exhale. And so can we.
Eris pads straight into the kitchen, barefoot, glitter still dusting her face and collarbones like a crime scene she refuses to clean up. She twists the cap off a bottle of water and tugs her shirt over her head without breaking stride.
We haven’t even taken our shoes off.
I stop near the counter and just watch.
Jace freezes mid-step, his own water bottle barely touching his lips.
Kieran lets out a sound that might be a prayer or a warning.
“How much did you have to drink?” I ask cautiously.
Eris glances back over her shoulder, lips curling as she slips out of her skirt. “A few.”
She’s down to tape and panties now, completely unbothered, like she’s shedding the night instead of undressing.
“But only one had alcohol in it,” she adds lightly, peeling the tape off her skin. “Didn’t want you feeling guilty about consent when I’m still not sure how it works under this roof.”
I narrow my eyes on her, but Jace chokes on water before I can formulate an equally sarcastic reply.
Kieran mutters something I can’t quite hear as he crosses the room in two long strides and catches her by the waist, pulling her back against him. She arches into the contact instantly, smug and reckless and fully aware of the effect she’s having.
“I should put you in a cold shower,” he murmurs against her neck.
“Promises,” she says, laughing.
Jace’s voice comes from behind me. “Is that before or after you carry her off like a caveman?”
Kieran doesn’t answer with words. He grunts at Jace as he shoots in to scoop Eris up like they’re in a wrestling match.
She squeals with pure laughter as he hoists her over his shoulder. Her hands fist in the back of his shirt, and she kicks once, playful and testing his grip… But Kieran and I were college wrestlers, and Jace was a hockey defenceman, so she’s not going anywhere without a weapon.
“Silas,” she calls, still laughing.
I don’t intervene.
But I do watch with a grin on my face.
“Keep wiggling,” Kieran warns, voice low. “You’ll regret it.”
Jace whistles. “That sounded like an invitation.”
“Depends,” Kieran says easily. “How much supervision do you think she needs?”
“All of it,” Jace answers as he dodges her hands.
They disappear down the hall together, Eris still laughing, the sound bright and free. They’re acting nothing like the people who stood over a body three hours ago.
I follow more slowly, not wanting to interrupt.
Just witness.
