Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Wyn

I wake up with a jolt that runs the entire length of my body. My eyes fly open, and I realize I’m lying in my own bed, in my apartment, light streaming in from the open curtains.

It’s morning, and I’m in my apartment.

How did I get here?

I’m running through my memories of last night when I see something or some one shift in my peripheral vision. My first thought is that it’s my stalker, but then I remember with terrifying clarity that Gabriel showed up last night—a very not-dead Gabriel—and he had a knife to my throat.

I don’t remember anything after that. Did I pass out? Did he knock me out? No idea, but obviously, he got me out of Rush House somehow and brought me home.

I’m on my side, and every muscle in my body tightens. I stare straight ahead at my front door, trying not to move. I pray Gabriel hasn’t realized I’m awake, and I wonder if I can make a beeline for the front door. Can I make it outside before he realizes what’s happening?

But as those thoughts swirl in my head, Gabriel walks into my line of vision. He lowers himself onto the bed and shoves a glass of water in my face. “Drink this.”

Scrambling up into a sitting position, I recoil, my back slamming against my headboard with a heavy thud . The water in Gabriel’s hand sloshes over the lip of the glass.

“What the fuck?” I bite out. “How are you alive? How did we get here? What the fuck is happening?”

For weeks I’ve suspected Gabriel might be alive, but a theory is miles different than actually seeing him sitting in front of me. He looks the same, and so much like Lucas, it’s crazy. The same blond hair, and blue eyes. The same flawless features.

He sets the glass down on my nightstand and smiles at me. “We were at Rush House,” he answers calmly. “And you passed out, so I brought you here.”

Okay, well, that answers that.

I’m panting, and it feels like I might hyperventilate. “Y-you held a knife to my throat,” I say, scanning his hands for said knife. I don’t see it, but he could have it hidden somewhere.

He reaches out to brush a thumb over my cheek, and I flinch. “I’m sorry about that, baby. I was freaked out, confused…”

I blink at him, my heart beating so hard, it’s all I can hear. “Did you fake your own death?”

It’s the question I’d been asking myself for weeks now, and honestly, I’m afraid of his answer. I can’t even begin to imagine why he might do something like that. But what other explanation could there be?

He drops his hand, and there’s a spark of something in his eyes—anger, maybe—before it’s gone, replaced with a softness I’ve never seen in him before. He laughs, but it’s void of humor. It’s an uncomfortable laugh.

“Why would I do that?” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what happened, actually. I just woke up one day without my memory. It’s taken time, but eventually, a couple of things came back. Rush House. You. ”

I nod, because I don’t know what else to do. I’m so fucking confused. First, I find evidence in Lucas’ closet that he was my stalker, but then, immediately after, Gabriel shows up with the exact flower my stalker used to torment me.

“Were you the one stalking me?” I ask.

“I was keeping tabs on you,” he corrects.

So, knocking Kai out, and fucking me in the middle of the night is what we're calling “keeping tabs” now? Is he fucking with me? I honestly wouldn’t put it past him.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, baby. I couldn’t reveal myself until I knew it was safe. And even now, I’m not sure it is, but I couldn’t wait any longer to be with you…”

My back is still plastered against the headboard, and I tilt my head. “What does that mean? Why wouldn’t it be safe?”

He shakes his head and plays with the strap of my dress. I’m still wearing the dress I wore last night. “I’ll explain everything, I promise—” He slides a little closer to me on the bed, his eyelids heavy, hooded. “But first, we have a lot of catching up to do…”

I stiffen. “Don’t you remember what happened on the day you—” I cut myself off from saying died “—went missing…?”

His gaze rakes over my face like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, and I’m a county fair buffet. “I don’t remember anything.”

“We broke up,” I answer.

He shakes his head. “Baby, I don’t know who I was back then, but I can tell you, I’ve changed.” His thumb brushes over my shoulder. “All I remember…is loving you.”

I relax a little. Aside from the knife from last night, he hasn’t tried to hurt me. Could this be genuine? I want to believe it is, but I still have so many questions.

“Where have you been all this time?” I ask.

He’s watching his own thumb as it brushes over my collarbone. “I don’t want to get into all that right now,” he says quietly. “I’ve been imagining this exact moment for weeks and I just want to soak you up. My Pretty Thing.” He whispers that last bit, and it sends a chill down my spine.

I should be glad that Gabriel is alive, and I am. But I’m also confused, and scared, and more than a little suspicious. How fucked up is that? God, I feel like such a horrible person. He’s alive, and all I can focus on is how he managed to pull it off.

I swallow, and try to calm my rioting heart. “Who else knows you’re alive? Does Lucas know?”

His gaze flicks up to meet mine. “Just you—and we need to keep it that way. For now.”

I’m clenching my teeth, and I don’t even realize it until my jaw starts throbbing. “Why, Gabriel? What happened?”

He shakes his head again but says nothing.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on,” I say, pleading, trying to play on his trust. “Tell me, Gabriel.”

Instead of answering, he leans in, his hot breath brushing over my mouth. His hand moves from my shoulder to my breast, and he squeezes gently. “Less talking,” he whispers. “More fucking.”

The fact that he thinks he can just pop up after being dead for two months, and not explain anything tells me everything I need to know about how much he’s “changed.”

Placing my hands between our bodies, I try pushing him off me. “Gabriel, stop?—”

He pulls back abruptly, anger flaring in those blue eyes. “What, I’m not that other guy, is that it?” There’s that anger I remember so well. It’s returned with a vengeance. “You want to tell me why I found you in his bedroom last night?”

Oh, shit. I hadn’t expected that question, so I don’t have a lie ready.

“I-it was nothing,” I say, stumbling over the words.

He grabs me again, but this time there’s no softness. It’s all anger and pain, his blunt fingernails digging into my bare skin. “You expect me to believe that? He was fucking naked Wyn.” He grabs the pendant Lucas put around my neck last night, and yanks on it, breaking the chain. “Did he give this to you?” He throws it, and I hear it hit the floor, and skid across the thin strip of tile in the kitchen area.

My mind buffers frantically, searching for an answer that will placate him. I could tell him Lucas forced me. Or that I’d just walked in to ask Lucas a question, and he happened to be naked in bed. In the end, I take a gamble and go for the answer that will flatter Gabriel the most.

“It’s just that…” I swallow. “Lucas looks so much like you, and…for a little while, I could pretend…you were alive.”

That literally could not be further from the truth, but I desperately need Gabriel to calm down, and in the past, feeding his narcissism usually worked.

“Lucas?”

I blink. “Your cousin?”

Does he not remember his own cousin’s name?

His grip loosens, and I can see the anger drain from his eyes. “I knew it had to be something like that,” he says, easing back. “Of course, you’d be desperate to fill the void I’d left, even if you had to fill it with a cheap imitation.”

I nod, thankful he bought the lie.

He pushes the strap of my dress off my shoulder and tugs the bodice down. I’m not wearing a bra, so my left breast is exposed. I suck in a terrified breath as he flicks my nipple with the pad of his thumb. “Lucky for you, here I am. Risen from the ashes.”

I desperately want to shove his hand away and pull my dress back up, but doing that might incite his anger. So instead, I hold myself still, every muscle in my body pulled tight like a bow.

“And don’t worry, Pretty Thing. I’ll fuck you so good, you won’t even remember that other guy’s name…”