Page 63 of Ruthless Moon

Chapter Twenty-Two

A Little Blood

IMOGEN GALLAGHER

The nap didn’t help. Neither did trying to ignore Rachel lovingly shoving me out of her bed, helping me get dressed and presentable enough so that no one could tell I’d spent hours vacillating between crying and sleeping.

But here we are anyway. My not-happily-ever precursor to a new flavor of hell.

The park buzzes with life and activity, a hive of pre-wedding chaos. From the outside looking in, no one would be the wiser. Silken fabrics are draped gracefully over archways, and the scent of fresh flowers wafts in the wind. A perfect fairy-tale setting for any other bride, but not for me.

For me, every single piece of silk represents a shroud. A death for my dreams. My freedom.

My father’s voice slices through the tense atmosphere. “This is not what I ordered! Fix it now,” he bellows at some poor assistant who quickly scurries away.

His critical eye examines every inch of the decor, finding flaws in everything. My uncle, less critical of the wedding, watches from a short distance down the aisle, his gaze fixed on me.

I swallow hard, resisting the urge to shrink away from his scrutiny. I can’t ever decide if my uncle dislikes me or is just angry I exist—like my father.

Amid all the yelling, Rachel flutters around, juggling her dual roles, trying to provide a semblance of normalcy to this mockery of a wedding rehearsal.

Aiden stands at the largest arch at the end of the aisle with the preacher or priest or whoever he is. I don’t want to walk down the aisle. Every step toward Aiden is a step away from Liam.

And Liam is watching.

In my periphery, he stands with his brothers, their collective posture rigid, protective. Every so often he steals a glance my way, his gaze tormenting and shredding my heart by the minute.

Noah, meanwhile, appears the ever-dutiful guard, his dark eyes tracking my every move. Waiting for me to fuck up something. Which is highly likely.

In fact, I’m so distracted by everyone watching me and my overwhelming emotions, I miss seeing the uneven stone beneath my own feet. My heel snaps, sending me crashing forward. Pain lances through my fingers as I fall. My hand catches the edge of one of the metal sconces in the aisle. Blood wells immediately.

Fuck.My dad will lose it just because I tripped. Just because I wasn’t perfect.

To my astonishment, my uncle is kneeling next to me in a heartbeat, pressing a pristine white handkerchief to the wound.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

“We can’t have our bride bleeding, can we?” he whispers. He presses the fabric to the wound, stopping the blood from dripping or spreading anywhere on the clothes I’m supposed to wear to dinner.

“I...um...thank you.” I rarely speak to my uncle. I’m quite sure he’s never been this close to me. Ever.

Aiden is crouching at my head now. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, my heel broke and I tripped. I’m fine. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

I feel Rachel’s presence standing behind me. “You good, sweetie?”

“Yeah, just give it a minute. I’m pretty sure I’m going to need a new pair of shoes, though, before we leave for dinner.”

My uncle dabs at my hand again, checking to see if the cut has closed up. It has. He wipes the remnants of blood from my skin and stands. “Good as new.”

My father’s voice rings from across the space. “What the fuck are all of you doing?”

He wasn’t anywhere near me. Thank goodness. He probably would’ve yelled at me for tripping and then kicked me while I was down there for good measure.

“You have deadly weapons on the aisle, Oliver. She’s fine, though, don’t worry,” my uncle says back at my father. “Not that you ever worry about her.”

I can’t help it, my gaze shoots straight to Liam. He’s standing, tense and still, hands fisted at his sides. I mouthI’m fineto him and I see him visibly relax just the slightest.

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