Page 13 of Her Wedding Night

I know everything about her. Her class schedule, her love of sweet tea, that she needs to untuck the blankets so her toes have room to breathe at night, but she always makes the bed and tucks the blankets under the mattress, military-style, first thing in the morning.

I know that she likes sour candy and YouTube videos about horror movies, but not horror movies themselves.

And she doesn’t know anything about me, because the most important fact negates literally everything else.

“I’m Gabriel,” I finally say, thickly. “I’m Ethan’s dad.”

CHAPTER 9

LUCY

No. This is not happening.

I laugh. He laughed before, so I guess laughing is okay between us, and it’s either that or I cry.

I could definitely go for a good cry right now. That would feel good. But it might also feel like the final breaking point, and I can’t handle that yet.

Now, in addition to a boat full of inebriated prep school monsters, I also have to deal with my insane stalker being on board. He thinks he’s Ethan’s dad?

Well, that explains a lot.

I don’t bother to tell him that I’ve met Ethan’s parents. Super awkward moment at a Christmas party that I didn’t realize other students brought their family to—and since I’m a foster kid who has no family, it felt like I was the extra-odd chick out.

Ethan tried to get me to stay and talk to them, but he was also doing that super intense staring thing of his, where it feels like he’s peeling my skin off millimetre by millimetre for scientific purposes.

Lucy Martin, you should have trusted that instinct more.

Yeah, no shit.

“Okay,” I say slowly, drawing the two syllables out.Ooooohkayyyyyy.

Understanding dawns in Gabriel’s eyes. “You don’t believe me.”

Nope. I don’t believe that his name is Gabriel, or that he’s Ethan’s dad. But I’d bet anything that he believes both things to be true, so I’m not going to argue with him. “I don’t know what to believe at this point,” I finally say. It’s close to the truth. And while I do worry about this guy for his own sake—he’s clearly not completely well, mentally—he doesn’t feel nearly as dangerous as the guys downstairs.

Captain drugging aside.

We’ve been standing here talking for a few minutes, and not once has he made me feel like he wants to peel off my skin layer by layer and then fuck my dead corpse, for example.

Ethan never took it that far, I chide myself.

No, he didn’t.

But now I’m getting the feeling like it’s possible that he could. It’s not one thing specifically. Just a bunch of odd pieces that are fitting together a little too late.

“Look… Gabriel?”

He nods, his attention never leaving my face. That bright blue gaze is something else. Who the fuck knows, maybe he actually is an archangel or something.

I suck in a breath. “Whatever you think is happening tonight, it’s not…they’re just idiots. I’m fine. I can handle myself. Maybe you should, uh…” I glance at the captain again.

“I’ll make sure he’s fine,” Gabriel says, his voice low and steady. He holds out his hand, showing me the vial again. “Take this.”

“I don’t want my fingerprints on that!”

“I’ll make sure it’s disposed of. Take it, just in case. A drop of this in anyone’s drink will knock them out pretty fast. Don’t use it on the girls, but if any guy gets too handsy with you…”

“I know how to defend myself.”

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