Although I knew he was declaring something that would’ve incited those things had I not already been in a constant state of both for hours now, he was also stating things that were so, very wrong.
But I couldn’t seem to open my mouth to demand an explanation.
“Loving you from a distance has been the privilege of my life so far. Calling you my wife?” His mouth twitched into one of those soft smiles. Smilingmysmile as he confessed things that didn’t make sense. Confusing things. Heartbreaking things.
Denials built and gathered on my too-thick tongue, all while my vision blurred and spun.
But then Gray’s smile slipped. His expression faltered as he blinked.
Blinked too long. Too slow.
With a weighted exhale, he rolled to his back, his hand dragging along my waist as if he was trying to hold on as his head fell heavily to the bed.
“Calling you my wife?” he repeated, the words coming slower and not quite as clear, but I wasn’t sure if that was hisspeech or because I was suddenly fighting to remain conscious. “Nothing will ev—water.” Panic laced the last word.
At least . . . I thought it had.
“Monroe—Mallory. Wake up.” Unsteady hands weakly gripped at my arms. My neck. My face. “Peach, wake up.”
I was awake. I was looking at him. Wasn’t I?
“Come on, Peach,” he begged, his words rough and slurred together. The blatant fear coating them settled over my body that felt so heavy and, somehow, felt like it was no longer there.
Rolling me away from him, Gray struggled to grip my jaw. “Need you to...wake. Wake up.” A head slammed on top of mine. “Throw up. Mallory. Throw it—” The hand on my jaw went slack and fell away, lying limply across my chest. The last thing I heard before finally drifting into sleep’s tempting embrace was a weak, indistinct, “Throw it up.”
I was crouched in the middle of my living room, fingers woven through my hair and gripping tight, when the new, disturbing memory faded. Trembling and trembling as my chest heaved and my mind raced and my vibrating phone went ignored. As everything started falling into place in a horrifying, gut-wrenching way.
After the first two memories I’d been given of that night, I was assuming I would’ve woken up miserable and cursing alcohol that morning in Aruba, even though I’d been fairly clear-headed in this most recent one.
But this? Gray and I hadn’t remembered anything because someone had drugged us. Someone had wanted to drugme, considering it’d been in my room.
And I knew that water had beeninmy room when we’d arrived. Now that I was fully sober and away from all the blissful highs of the night, I was positive the marriage certificate hadbeen the only thing Gray or I had brought back into the room with us.
But even though I knew that bottle could’ve ended up in my room in so many ways, given what we did and what we’d seen in our line of work, I couldn’t figure outwhohad put it there and for what purpose. Not with the Wreckers hiding from us. Not while we were in Aruba.
My chest heaved as potential outcomes raced through my mind, each one making me feel more vulnerable than the last because, for the first time, I would’ve been powerless against them.
But Gray had been there.
Except...he’d been drugged too, he’d been unconscious too, and nothing had happened.
I dragged my hands through my hair as I tried to make sense of something so beyond my grasp. Forcing myself to my full height, I turned to start pacing, only to stop when my phone vibrated for the umpteenth time.
Pulling it out of my pocket, I instinctively turned for my front door, assuming Gray was letting me know he was here because I needed him, and he always seemed to know when I did, only to still when I saw the messages weren’t from him at all.
“Oh no,” I murmured as I opened the group text I was now apparently part of.
Sunshiney Chloe Thatcher
Oh my GOSH! You and Hudson are MARRIED?!
Congratulations!
I truly can’t think of a more perfect couple.
Bossman’s Lainey
Wait, what? WHAT?!
