Page 7 of Lost in the Moonlight

As I stepped into the frigid air promising fog and rain, I cursed myself for not adding an enclosed walkway from the house to the detached garage as part of the remodel. I punched in the code on the garage door, and as I waited for it to roll up, my gaze drifted to the cemetery. My feet froze, and my body stiffened as a lone figure slipped through the swirling mist and tombstones.

She was pale and graceful with her long hair whipping about in the fierce wind the spring storm had brought with it. She looked completely real. Vivid and alive.

Just as she had the other night, the ghost ignored me.

Maybe that, more than anything, should have told me it wasn’t a hallucination. That it wasn’t Sienna.

My grip tightened on the cardboard. I dragged my eyes away from the pale figure and forced my legs forward into the garage. I dropped my load onto the pile already filling the space where I’d eventually park my Range Rover. My former detail would have had a field day with me leaving my SUV in the drive whereanyone could screw with it, but it had given me a sort of twisted pleasure to live outside the bounds of the Secret Service rules after years of following them.

As I left the garage, the wind bit through my sweatshirt, its sharp teeth sliding into my skin. I refused to let my eyes journey to the graveyard. Instead, I kept them pinned on the back door.

I was two steps from making it inside when the sound of raised voices halted me—a man and a woman. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but the male’s tone had an edge of ugly to it and hers a hint of panic that had me spinning around and jogging toward the stone wall dividing my property from the graveyard.

As the argument grew even more heated, my urgency increased. With no time to walk to the gate, I used a hand to brace myself and hopped over the waist-high wall. As I rounded the corner of the mausoleum with the broken-winged angel, my eyes landed on the woman I’d thought was a hallucination and a man in a beanie who hovered over her while the fog churned around them.

He was dressed all in black, blending in with the shadows, and she was in soft pastels that glowed like a rainbow even in the broken moonlight. The epitome of angels versus demons. Goodness versus wickedness.

His gloved hand clamped down on her arm encased in a cotton-candy pink coat Sienna would never have been caught dead in. He yanked her closer, and the woman’s sneaker-clad feet slid along the dewy grass. She lost her balance and had to catch herself by placing her free hand on his chest. The man leered at her, and the look on his face was ugly in a way that made my insides twist.

“I said, let go.” The woman’s voice was breathless but strong, full of a command I wanted to applaud her for as I hurried to close the remaining distance.

“I won’t ask you again. How long have you been here, and what exactly did you see, Willow?” the man snarled.

“I didn’t see anything. Now get your hands off me.” She pushed on him, and her struggle made his eerie grin grow wider.

“Maybe you saw me and came crawling. I told you I’d wear you down eventually. Now there’s no distractions. No Hector. Just you and me and the dead.”

If he’d expected to scare her, he hadn’t achieved it. At least, she didn’t show it. Instead, she raised her chin in a defiance that made me feel proud when I had no right to it. “I told you. I’m not interested.”

“Hey!” I called out. My voice startled them, and two pairs of eyes darted my way. “I think she said let go.”

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

“No one you care to mess with.”

He looked me over, sizing up my lean frame in nothing but sweats and beat-up tennis shoes and clearly not feeling impressed. While he had several layers of muscle on me, I had a couple inches of height and a determination backed with years of martial arts training he wouldn’t know existed until he crossed the line.

As his eyes narrowed in on my face, I counted the seconds, waiting for him to recognize me, and was relieved when he didn’t.

“Mind your own business,” the man said, jerking again on the woman’s arm. A moment of panic drifted across her face so white it matched the gravestones.

The wind whipped through the trees, but I no longer felt the cold biting me. Anger heated my veins until they roared with flames. I wouldn’t stand by and watch while another innocent woman got hurt…manhandled…killed.

If I’d still had my detail, they’d have backed me up, or more likely, one of them would’ve taken care of the situation entirely. Instead, I was the only person who could stop what was happening.

As I stalked over the damp grass to the woman, my hand bumped against the switchblade I’d placed in my pocket. I pulled it out, flicked it open, and pointed it at the man.

“You’re the one who needs to mind your own business,” I insisted.

The woman’s eyes widened, darting now between me and her captor. As she struggled to free herself from his grip once again, I reached for her opposite arm. The puffy jacket collapsed under my hand until my fingers collided with a thin rod of muscle and bone. It hit me all at once that she was actually real. Not a ghost or a guilt-filled hallucination. Real.

The man yanked at her one more time. The poor woman was now a tug-of-war rope between two equally hostile men staring each other down. When I didn’t look away from him, when I angled the point of my knife in the direction of his face, he finally dropped his grip.

She stumbled toward me, and I wrapped my free arm around her shoulders. The tremble I’d expected in her voice coasted through her body, showing just how much he’d shaken her regardless of her brave tone. I admired the control it had to have taken to only show him a fierce calm.

“Do you want me to call the cops?” I asked.

The man stepped back, blending into the shadows. “Don’t be stupid, Willow. You don’t want the police involved. This was just a little warning to keep your nose out of things that don’t concern you. Don’t turn this into something Paul has to straighten out. Understand?” When neither of us responded, his eyes narrowed. “Let’s keep it to ourselves, and everything will be fine.”

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