Page 12 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

SEVEN

WHO DID THIS

LONI

I hate him.

I hate him.

I haaate him.

Hm. Why isn’t that working?

I’m lying in an oversized bed, the AC cranked so high, I’ve snuggled beneath the heavy comforter that—annoyingly—smells like vanilla and chamomile.

Two of my favorite scents, and I could pretend that was a coincidence…

I could be pissed that the bedding is refreshed as though Adrian often has female company…

if it wasn’t for the fact that nearly everything I own is in this room.

The luggage I brought with me from Bridgewater, stuffed full of the clothes I unpacked back at Dad’s. My makeup bag. My laptop tote. My headphones. Some of the knick knacks that decorated my childhood bedroom all relocated to this room in Adrian Heller’s house.

In my husband ’s house.

Of course. If I can believe Adrian, he spent the last two weeks prepping this room for me since he knew that—despite Desmond’s name on the invitation—I would end up marrying him .

That’s what he told me before he finally left me alone in this room…

but not before he insisted on unzipping me so that I could finally climb out of the monstrous wedding dress I’ve been trapped in for hours.

The first thing I did was pee. There was a bathroom one room over from mine, and he pointed it out since he seemed pretty set on the whole ‘Loni needs a shower’ thing. Being spiteful, I changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a t-shirt, did my business, then locked myself into the bedroom.

It seemed like an eternity since I watched Desmond’s body buck as each one of Adrian’s three bullets found their home in his torso.

There’s an old-fashioned clock on the wall.

To my shock, it was barely after nine when I climbed into the bed.

I was exhausted enough that I hoped I would fall right to sleep, but the clock is ticking, it’s past midnight now, and I’m wide fucking awake.

The ring on my finger just about burns. Knowing that Adrian is the man who slipped it on my finger… I twist it, and even as I try to dig down and remember how much he hurt me, how much I’ve hated him over the years, I don’t take it off.

I married him. I married Adrian Heller.

More importantly, he married me.

It was no accident. That’s what he said. He waited years for me… Four years.

And I’m having a hard time believing that.

Adrian Heller isn’t a liar; at least, not when it comes to me.

Unless he’s changed that drastically over the last decade, I know that much about him.

He’s honest to the point of cruelty, telling me his truth whether it’ll hurt or not.

I don’t count the rumors he spread because, whenever I confronted him, he admitted to them.

The only thing I could never understand? Was why he would spread them in the first place. Why he cared.

Oh, he told me he loved me. Always in the heat of the moment, when his fingers were running through my hair, his dick inside of me, his lips marking me in the only way he could (or would).

He admitted it like he was ashamed to feel such strong emotions for the girl he couldn’t stop himself from terrorizing, just like I echoed the sentiment, knowing he would only see it as my weakness.

Who fell for their bully? I tried not to, but there were times when he was so kind…

so sweet… so consumed with me, I found it easy to look past how mean he could be when we weren’t alone.

He was protecting himself, I believed. His status in the Order, his future as one of its leaders, and the Offering who would one day be his bride.

It was supposed to be Haven.

It was never Haven.

But it wasn’t anyone else, either, not really—and I can’t help but cling to that in the silence of this dark bedroom.

Because it’s me. Adrian Heller refused to take an Offering at every ceremony he participated in over the years, but then Desmond tried to Claim me, and Adrian shot him.

He killed him.

And I’ve never been more turned on in my whole fucking life.

That’s my truth.

I loved him once. Even when he pushed me away, I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I knew he would singe my dusty wings. I accepted I would only burn… but for as long as it lasted—for that whole year when he was mine —I allowed myself to love him.

And then, when he could’ve stood up for me for once… when he could’ve told the world that we had something between us… he stayed quiet. He kept me his dirty little secret even when the King himself called him to the Fortress.

Adrian didn’t lie, but he didn’t tell Jack Collins the truth, either.

He let his uncle form his own opinions, and when it was all said and done, I knew there could never be any hope for Adrian and me.

The most I could be was his mistress. He’d marry Haven because it was expected of them, and I’d be thrown to the rabid dogs of horny Owed who’d use me, wreck me, and forget me if I was lucky.

They’d chain me if I wasn’t.

So I escaped. I ran. I applied to the first community college that popped up on my Google search, and I left Harmony Heights far behind me.

Only I thought I did, but I clearly didn’t.

And now, ten years later, the life I once dreamed of…

the life I fought so desperately to forget…

has caught up to me. Like he said, I am Mrs. Adrian Heller.

I’m married to the man who broke me once, but who killed to take my groom’s place before I could become Mrs. Desmond St. James instead.

I should be losing it. Earlier tonight, when he was guiding me to this room, his hip bumped into my side. The heavy, hard bulge of his gun reached me through the lace and bulk of my dress. He’s armed with the same weapon that took out Desmond. I should be afraid that he could turn it on me.

I should be—but I’m not.

He won’t hurt me. Physically, at least; not the way Desmond did. But emotionally? I was always fragile around Adrian. Seeing him now for the first time in ten years, the guard I built up shattered the moment our eyes met in St. Catherine’s.

The longer I lie here, the worse it gets.

Desmond made it perfectly clear that he expected to consummate our marriage as soon as he left the church.

That that was how it was done in the Order.

If that’s the case, why did Adrian walk away from me so easily?

I don’t understand his motives at all, and hours after he slipped down the hall, I can’t stop thinking that he went off to do something else.

To do some one else…

He said he wouldn’t go after any of the Used. I want to believe him, but… shit. Look at him. The angelic boy he once was has turned into a man made of sin. I nearly swallowed my tongue when I saw him. He’s so fucking beautiful , and I’m supposed to believe he’s mine?

No. I shove the blankets away from me. Not mine.

I’m his .

That’s the distinction. That’s the way Adrian sees it, and when I think that? I might just understand him a little more.

Maybe.

Or maybe I’m just fooling myself.

Ugh!

I can’t sleep. And maybe I’m just as crazy as he must be because I don’t think I’ll be able to until I make sure that he’s somewhere in the house.

That he didn’t have Father Francis marry us in the religious ceremony before slipping out to do whatever it is he does.

The only marriage certificate I signed had Desmond’s name on it so, unless that can be changed, we’re not legally married, though something warns me against ever mentioning that to Adrian.

It’s quarter after twelve. Padding out of the well-decorated bedroom in my bare feet, I tiptoe down the hall. Before, I caught him glancing at the first doorway on the right and assumed that must be his. The door was shut then.

It’s open now.

Grabbing the doorjamb, I peek inside.

It’s too dark to make out his features. Luckily, I grabbed my phone. Not because I had anyone to call—because, um, I don’t —but because I used the flashlight to guide my way down the quiet, empty hall. It’s still on. I lift it quickly, hoping that the sudden flash doesn’t disturb him.

Adrian is definitely in bed. Even more importantly, he’s alone. Wearing a pair of low-slung pajama pants and nothing else, my gaze is drawn to his bare chest, watching its slow rise and fall as he snores softly.

I’ve never seen him so vulnerable. There never was a chance for us to actually sleep side-by-side together. Knowing that, in less than a week, I’ll be curled up in that bed with him…

I shake my head. No. No . This can’t work. Adrian and me? There’s no way this can be my happily-ever-after.

I had a plan to get rid of Desmond. That turned out to be way easier than I ever thought it would be, and while Adrian is definitely a wrench I wasn’t expecting, that doesn’t change things too much. There has got to be a way to get rid of him before I’m in too deep.

I don’t know what that is just yet, but I’ll figure it out. That’s what I do.

The girl that Adrian knew grew up. If he thinks he can just call the shots and I’ll do what I’m told… well, he might just regret taking Desmond’s place after all.

Knock. Knock .

“Loni, you up? Breakfast is ready.”

Fuck.

I’m awake. To be honest, I barely slept at all.

I crawled back into bed a little before one, got maybe five or six hours of fitful sleep, then gave up on it shortly after the sun rose.

I slipped out to the bathroom again, freshening up before Adrian was moving about, then locked myself into my new room.

Two hours later, here he is. That’s his voice calling through the door. The rap of his knuckles against the wood… I know that knock. If I don’t answer him, it’ll become more of a bang any minute now.