Page 97 of Lost in the Moonlight

If this was on us, I’d fix it, damn it. I had to.

So, I headed to the gallery, intent on doing two things. I’d gather the tools needed to repaint the mural, and I’d interrogate Katerina about Felicity. While I didn’t doubt Axel could do his job and would follow any trails leading to my ex, my sister would know what was being whispered about behind the scenes in Hollywood.

I’d just walked in the studio door and pulled my phone from my pocket when it rang with my mom’s number scrolling across the screen.

“Hey.”

“So, we called in a few more favors and found out that the photos of you and the Sienna look-alike were sold toThe Exhibitorby Poco Malta.”

Even as relief rolled through me, knowing the photos weren’t from the man in the sedan, a sea of other emotions roared into its place. Fury directed at Poco and irritation at my mother for the repeatSienna look-alikedig. “First, she’s not Sienna.” The snarl in my voice should have warned her to step back, but she didn’t.

“I’ll have to make that decision for myself, won’t I?”

“If you come into town hanging on to that assumption and treat her like she’s nothing more than an imitation I’ve gravitated to, we’ll have a serious problem.”

I heard her inhale, but it was quiet over the line for several long seconds before she finally let it out and spoke. “You care for her. Deeply.”

“I’m in love with her. Wildly and furiously. And I don’t care that it’s too fast, or that I can’t possibly know her, or that some stupid-ass person is going to think she looks like Sienna—”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“What I’m saying is, she’s the one. She fits into all my grooves and notches, and no, I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about how, when I’m with her, there’s peace and calm even while things are blowing up around us. I don’t know how that can be, but it’s true.”

“Lincoln…” Mom’s voice was full and thick with emotions. “I’m… I’m happy for you and terrified at the same time.”

“I’ve hired a security team. For her and me. I had Hardy looking into some things, but my team will take it over. And the local police are also involved.”

“I wasn’t talking about your physical safety, but why don’t you tell me why you had to do all of these things?”

So, I did. I told her about Willow’s dad, witness protection, the notes, Poco, and the destroyed mural.

“They’ll relocate her, or she’ll have to opt out,” Mom said quietly.

My entire being ached at the thought of Willow having to disappear. “I know. It’s why I’m determined we end all of it for her—so they don’t have to make that choice.” I inhaled. “There’s more.”

“My God, Lincoln. More?” Mom laughed sardonically.

“Her dad would have died of fatal familial insomnia even if he hadn’t been shot.” I didn’t have to explain the condition. Growing up with my insomnia, we’d been through all the possible causes for it. My parents knew all about FFI and just how rare it was. “The Marshals wouldn’t let her get tested, so she has the possibility of it hanging over her.”

“Finally, you give me a problem I can solve.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll put my people on how to get her tested if she ends up opting out of witness protection. If she stays in, I can understand why they wouldn’t want her results in any database. She’d be too easy to find if someone offered up the right kind of money.”

“It doesn’t matter to me if she has FFI or not,” I said, knowing immediately how Willow would react if she found out she had the mutated gene. She’d try to push me away again, to protect me from losing her.

“Mattering and knowing what’s coming are two entirely different things,” Mom said.

We let that sit for a minute before I returned to the original statement Mom had made. “What can we do about the photos Poco sold?”

I barely resisted the urge to slam my way out of the gallery, storm into Tall Paul’s bar, and strangle the man. I wanted to ensure he handed over every photo he’d taken and erase every trace, one way or another.

“Merci and her team are making calls to as many of the papers and scandal sheets as they can. Even with that, I can’t guarantee they won’t show up on some independent blog becauseThe Exhibitordidn’t buy exclusive rights. If his main intention in selling them wasn’t just about the money, if he wanted to expose her or you or both, he’ll keep going until someone shows them. Or he’ll just start sharing them on his own social media accounts.”

“He’s a petty criminal, pissed because he didn’t get what he wanted. When he told Willow he’d get something else out of her, he must have meant the money. If he gives the photos away for free by posting them on his own accounts, that defeats the purpose,” I said.

My relief at knowing where the photographs had come from was short-lived because it also meant it was unlikely he’d been the one leaving the notes and destroying the mural. He wouldn’t want to scare Willow into hiding if he was hoping to take more and sell those too. Besides, Hardy’s guy had said Poco had been at Tall Paul’s when the rocks had been thrown. That left Felicity or the Viceroys who could be leaving the notes. As much as my stomach turned at both possibilities, I honestly would rather it be Felicity. She was less dangerous in the long run. Wasn’t she?

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