Page 100 of Lost in the Moonlight

“Tell me what the hell has really been going on, and why the hell Matherton has hired a security detail for you,” James insisted.

In a voice that felt wooden and numb, I explained for what felt like the thousandth time what had been happening since Poco and Lincoln had shown up in the graveyard. James took notes and asked some pointed questions about Lincoln and me that had me fidgeting and pulling on my dad’s ring before glancing away at nothing.

After a moment, I took a shaky inhale and said, “I truly didn’t think any of it involved the Viceroys. They’d just shoot me, wouldn’t they? And even if they did decide to send a message, all I can see Aaron writing is,I’m coming for you, bitch, when these notes are almost…flowery.”

“I don’t disagree. The wording on the notes is strange,” James said. “And we have no indication that Aaron has found you. It was Lincoln’s security team who poked at your backstory and no one else. For all we know, Aaron has simply taken off to some non-extradition country because of the RICO case. But I won’t be comfortable until we set eyes on him again.”

The what-ifs and if-onlys tried to eat me alive from the inside out.

“Either way, the situation here in Cherry Bay is no longer sustainable. The safest bet is to relocate you.”

Bone-searing grief wielded through me. I tugged at Dad’s ring. It was my only real, physical connection to him anymore. What would I be able to take with me from this life? What physical items would remind me of Hector and Shay and my time at The Tea Spot? What would remind me of Lincoln and a glorious weekend I’d spent in the arms of a man I’d cared deeply for…had been halfway in love with after mere days together.

“No.” My mom’s voice swung through the air like a gunshot, drawing our eyes to her.

She’d been quiet for most of the conversation between the Marshal and me, but her face was set now. I knew that look. That quiet determination.

Our handler shook her head and said, “You can’t deny relocation. If you do—”

“I know,” Mom interrupted. “We’d have to opt out if we say no to moving.”

“Mom,” I said, panic filling me. “We should talk about this before we decide anything.”

She shook her head. “No. We’ve both got lives here we love. People we care about. A future. We’re not running. We’re not hiding. We’ve got the security team Lincoln hired. I’ll hire more. We’ll figure it out.”

“A private security company isn’t the answer, Erica. They’ll bleed you dry if you try to keep them for the rest of your lives,” Deputy James insisted.

“I can’t do it,” Mom said, hands shaking as she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t start over again. Giveup another career. Ask Willow to give up the career she was born to do. The art she’s creating. She just fell in love for the first time, and I won’t tear her from any of it.”

“She’s in love with the president’s son!” James hissed.

I wanted to protest that I wasn’t sure it was love yet, if only to ease Mom’s conscience about moving, but the words turned to ash in my mouth. I wasn’t halfway in love with Lincoln, I was fully, over-the-top, completely and absolutely in love with him. It had happened from the moment he’d swooped in and rescued me, and every single tingling sensation, every single beautiful moment after it had just strengthened the connection that bound us together. It was ridiculous, but true.

I desperately wanted more time with him. Whatever time my body gave me. Whatever time fate and the Viceroys would leave me with. But I also didn’t want to put him or my mom in danger because of my need to mark off that last joyous experience on my list.

When neither Mom nor I said anything else, Deputy James said, disgustedly, “The little taste of his life you got with just the idea of a photograph leaking…that’s nothing compared to what you’ll get if you actually show up on his arm. Even if these notes have nothing to do with the Viceroys, you think Aaron Vitale is just going to sit back and watch as you live some huge-ass life with the president’s son while his baby brother is pushing up daisies?”

Nausea returned, flipping my stomach in a nasty way. Mom grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight, comfort and solidarity. We were in this together. Somehow, I’d forgotten that even though it’s what she’d insisted last night. That it was her choice. She had as much to lose—and gain—as I did. She was pale, and I could feel her shaking even as her words were confident when she spoke. “Then, I guess we’ll have to trust the authorities to find away to put him out of commission for good if he comes calling. We’re not relocating.”

James paced, shoved up the sleeves on her jacket, paced some more, and then came to a stop by the island. “I’ve never lost anyone under my protection. Not because they were killed or because they chose to walk away from protection. Please don’t be the first. It’ll haunt me for the rest of my life if something happens to either of you.”

“It’ll hauntmefor the rest ofmylife if I let Willow walk away from the beautiful future she deserves. That she’s earned! We’ve had enough tragedy and darkness, Rebecca. Enough is enough!” She pounded the counter to emphasize it, and emotions clogged my throat.

“Mom—”

“No, Willow. We’re not leaving.”

While the thought of giving up everything and everyone here tore at my soul, I wasn’t sure I could live with the alternative either—because someone I loved could die again.

Deputy Marshal James stared at both of us for a second that felt like forever before sighing and saying, “I can give you forty-eight hours to think about it while we start arrangements for a move.” When Mom started to respond, she waved it away. “Calm down and really consider what you’re doing. When logic prevails, give me a call.” She headed toward the door. “We’ll have two deputies assigned to you until then. I’ll have them coordinate with this Garner security company, but the Marshal Service is in charge, not them. What we say goes.”

I didn’t think Lincoln or Axel would agree with that statement, and just the thought of either of their reactions lightened the heaviness weighing on me just a bit. I wished it could wipe it away completely. Wished I could go back a handfulof days to when I’d been smiling at the cherry blossoms and feeling like my life was all goodness and hope and rainbows.

But if I went back, I wouldn’t have Lincoln, and that hurt more than anything had in a really long time.

James left, shutting the front door with enough force it made the windows rattle.

“What are we doing?” I asked, shaking my head.

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