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Adrian set his beer on the table and sat up. “Look. The point is, even if these cards do have something to do with The Pact, it doesn’t matter now. Whoever sent these, it’s just a big joke.”
“We had plenty of those, too,” River added, a smile building as though he were trying to help lighten the mood. “Remember the Confusing Currency Conversion when Prince Henrik first arrived in Chicago?”
The Prince of Einvar in midwestern Europe had come to school in America. He and Wesley had become friends during orientation, and Wes had introduced the prince to the fraternity, which he’d joined to get the “full American experience,” as he’d called it.
“Yeah, we almost had him convinced that a dime was equal to a euro,” Adrian said.
I slapped my knee. “I was sure Henrik was going to burst an artery until we told him the truth.”
The four of us laughed, and the sound swallowedwhatever unease had dominated my chest. We never did traditional hazing or anything like that, but we liked to have fun.
We certainly had given the Einvarian prince the best American education we could.
“Who do you think sent those though?” I asked, looking at each face one by one.
My glance stopped at Adrian. The amusement fell from his expression and was replaced with pensive deliberation.
“It can’t be Will,” Adrian said. “If he’s still pestering us from his jail cell, he needs a hobby.”
“Wolf Industries?” I suggested.
The company had seemingly set out to sabotage Adrian’s business back in April. They’d targeted his clients and coerced many of them to switch loyalties. I’d played it off as a simple business move, but Adrian had insisted there was more to it.
After Will had abducted Gabby in the name of revenge on Adrian for falling in love with her, Will had been sent back to prison. Both Adrian and I had had our lawyers look into Wolf Industries, to see if there was any connection to Will, but from what anyone could tell, there was no affiliation.
On the surface, the company was harmless. Which only made me more suspicious.
Adrian claimed he got feelings about things, about people. I wondered what his intuition was telling him now. Had he mentioned what happened to the others?
Adrian scowled. “I haven’t heard from them since that debacle months ago. Honestly, I wouldn’tworry about this. All I want to think about is Gabby. And our honeymoon.” He grinned.
The guys and I all gave another round of whoops and lifted our bottles.
My designated driver status wasn’t the only reason I couldn’t fully celebrate with the rest of them. This time, I was the one with the gut feeling, and it told me these cards weren’t an idle threat to be ignored. Yet, what could any of us do about it now?
Adrian was right. We had nothing more to go on than these simple cards.
There was no real reason to feel threatened.
As his groomsman—as his best man—I needed to keep my head where it belonged: His wedding.
The big day was tomorrow, and not only was I going to be the greatest best man I could be, I was going to do everything I could to get under Ella’s skin in the meantime.
SIX
ella
Gabby and Adriantook the term “fairytale wedding” seriously. The woods around Adrian’s cabin were strewn with fairy lights. White fabric was looped along the trees to create a semblance of a canopy.
An aisle had been formed down the center of rows of wooden folding chairs, which were backed with cream fabric tied in elegant knots. Every neighboring tree had bursts of additional foliage at its base, pine boughs, and white flowers, which only added to the feel that elves were about to pop out any second and start serenading us.
Adrian’s mom greeted us wearing a cream dress in a classy style. His brothers and sister-in-law hugged him, and then he was left to stand at the end of the aisle with the preacher.
Adelie and I held our bouquets in front of us to the right, while the groomsmen stood in their tuxes behind Adrian to the left.
Inadvertently, my eyes drifted over and caught Hawk’s. He winked at me, making my stomach flutter—a fact I wasnotgoing to admit to him.
The truth was, he was striking in jeans and a t-shirt, but in a tux, the man gave the phrase “dressed to kill”an entirely dangerous meaning. He could cut through me with a razor.
