Page 63 of Lost in the Moonlight

“Do you still see her parents?” she asked gently.

I nodded. “They’re usually with us for the holidays, and they spoil me and my sisters like we’re their favorite nieces and nephew. They’re also the reason I have the gallery in D.C.”

“They are?”

“They had a trust set aside for Sienna for college and weddings and stuff, and they handed it over to me so I could open the gallery she’d always dreamed about. I was actually with them, talking about the plans, when Lyrica was shot.”

Willow inhaled sharply. “Wh-who’s Lyrica? Did you lose another friend?” The pain and sorrow in her voice made me want to kick myself.

I pushed the hair back from my forehead with one hand. I kept forgetting Willow didn’t know every single fact of my life like most people I met.

“Lyrica is the manager of my gallery in D.C. These days, we’re just really good friends, but at the time she was shot, we were dating.” I glanced over to see how this news landed, and Willow’s eyes widened.

“What happened?”

“It was the anniversary of my accident with Sienna, and every year on that day, I spent time with her parents. Lyrica knew and was happy for me to go, but I still felt bad about leaving her, because her sorority was throwing this huge, end-of-the-year bash that she’d been responsible for organizing. She couldn’t just leave to go with me any more than I could not gosee Henrik and Shannon. We didn’t argue about it, but she did give me crap for feeling guilty. She told me if I felt so damn bad that I wasn’t sticking around to help, then I could go pick up the ice for her on my way out of town.” My voice faded away before I cleared my throat and kept going, trying to keep it nonchalant. Just the facts. “But I forgot to do it. I was so focused on getting to Delaware, so in my head reliving that awful day, that I didn’t even realize I’d forgotten until I got the call. Lyrica had gone into a convenience store to buy ice and got caught in the crossfire of a robbery gone bad.”

Silence settled down into the car.

“Oh, Lincoln… I’m so sorry.”

Damn. Why had I told her all that when I was trying so hard to push aside the dark of the truths we’d already shared?

“Mumbles were already hitting the streets about Dad running for president by that time, so anything they could get on our family was food for the machine. The press talked to her sorority sisters,” I said with an inward sigh. “The way the media twisted their words made it seem like I’d abandoned Lyrica right outside the store. Like I’d sent her in there on her own and hadn’t shown up when the bullets started flying. If you look me up on the internet, it’s still one of the top search results. The gallery’s success is always buried under the tragedies tied to me—Sienna, Lyrica, Leya’s kidnapping, and even Felicity’s bullshit.”

Quiet settled down, and then, to my surprise, Willow started laughing. I looked over at her, confused. “What? What did I say?”

She put her hand over her mouth, horror in her eyes, but she didn’t stop laughing. Eventually, she stuttered out her thoughts while still trying to control the chuckles. “I’m sorry. That’s awful. I’m just… You’ve had so much happen to you. Here I am, like,‘Woe is me, my dad was shot,’ and you’re like, ‘Every woman I thought I loved has experienced death and tragedy, the press has repeatedly used me for fodder, and I’ve been made into a villain by America’s sweetheart.’ You’ve just had so much happen…” The laughter drifted away, and she reached over to squeeze my hand resting on the console. “It isn’t funny. Not at all. But it made me feel ridiculous. It put things in perspective. I’m just incredibly sorry you had to go through all of it.”

We pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, and I cut the engine before turning in my seat to look at her. “Not that it’s a competition, Sweetness, but I’ve never once had shots fired at me and a street gang threatening to murder me and my family. Let’s not minimize what you’ve gone through by narrowing it down to a ‘Woe is me.’”

That sucked the laughter away. I reached over, skimming her jawline with my knuckles. Her breath caught while mine disappeared completely for several seconds. She was so beautiful. Stunningly gorgeous. Unforgettable.

“None of it was your fault,” she said with deadly seriousness. I knew it. My therapist, my family, Sienna, Lyrica, and even Leya had all said the same thing. But for the first time, the words carved a place deep in my soul and stayed there. Every single person who’d ever said it to me had been right, but it was Willow saying it that finally found a lasting home. None of it had been my fault or really about me. I couldn’t change the past, but I damn well could influence the present, and I would. I’d keep Willow safe and build a life that meant something.

Chapter Twenty

Willow

TWISTED

Performed by Carrie Underwood

I understood so much more aboutLincoln from that handful of sentences he’d offered up. He’d said them as if they were simple facts, but I knew, both from instinct and from how he’d been acting ever since we’d met in the cemetery, that he carried remorse for all those tragedies. It hung on him like a badge he couldn’t throw away. He felt responsible for those women. For all of them.

Which was why he hadn’t been able to walk away from me.

Why he’d followed me down the street at two thirty in the morning.

Why he’d shown back up and demanded I not go anywhere alone.

I understood guilt. What if I hadn’t let my dad walk alone that night? What if I hadn’t seen their faces? What if Mom hadn’t had to tear apart her life in order to give me one?

While neither of us could take responsibility for the tragedies that had woven their way into our past, I could understand his determination to not allow something else to happen on his watch. Just like I was determined to not let Mom lose everything all over again if I could help it.

When I’d spoken to Deputy Marshal James, she’d assured me Aaron was tucked away in Chicago, and there was no chatter about him searching for me. He was busy with the RICO case set to go to trial this summer.

Mom was safe, miles away with her students. The ugly note on the door had to have been Poco, and Lincoln had someone running that down. Everything was going to be okay. We weren’t sliding back into the nightmare of those first years. I was grateful I had not only the Marshals but Lincoln to keep me safe.

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