Page 10 of Moonlit Hideaway
“It’s okay,” he replied, although it wasn’t. He should have gone with Chloe instead of letting her go alone. What happened to her was entirely his fault.
Chapter Five
Last night was rough, and Sierra had cried herself to sleep. She missed her mom and her friends—the members of her band and even the fans on TikTok and social media. She had no idea what was happening in the outside world as the only television was downstairs in the parlor where Howie camped out all evening. She huddled underneath the old-fashioned quilt, blinking back tears and wondering how long she would have to hide. Perhaps she shouldn’t have run. She could have handed the businesses over to Marco in exchange for not marrying him.
But her father had taught her a thing or two about the mob mentality.
Marco would have viewed her rejection of him as complete and total disrespect. She was in a no-win situation. She would never submit to his brutality in exchange for a position her father’s wife held—a mafia wife in name only—while her unloving husband ran around murdering and having affairs.
Besides, as her mom said, she’d have to give up singing, performing, and interacting with her fans—everything she loved.
Sierra threw off the covers and shuddered. She was already giving it all up. Tomorrow evening, she was due to appear at the Crystal Coliseum. For sure, Lila, her personal assistant, wasalready panicking that she disappeared, and her mother would be frantic. She’d broken the contract for the show, and no one would book her for another gig, ever.
She wasn’t much of a songwriter, although she dabbled at it between tours, and she was too impatient to teach, but those were the only skills she had left. How could her life be over at the grand age of twenty-four? Life wasn’t fair. She’d worked so hard to advance herself to a headline position, and now, it was all gone.
She couldn’t even admit to who she was.
The morning was as gloomy as the night before, minus the rain. Sierra opened the blackout curtains and noted the slate gray sky. The large lighthouse tower stood like a silent sentinel, and miserable-looking seagulls circled the shallow beach. She was stuck while the power struggle for her father’s successor raged. How long would it take for the new capo to execute his rivals?
As she stepped out of the shower and dressed, she heard Emma running down the hallway.
“Yes, Dad, I’m hurrying,” she shouted with the exuberance of a typical teen. But what chilled Sierra’s blood were her next words. “Do you think Jane can drive me to school? I can’t wait to learn the riffs to ‘Neon Heartbeat.’”
Had Emma already figured her out?
Well, duh! Everyone under twenty had seen her viral TikTok dance video, and that tennis bracelet with the heart-shaped diamonds was a dead giveaway. Her marketing campaign had made thousands of cubic zirconia bracelets for her fans to buy and wear at her concert.
Sierra couldn’t afford to be outed before the three-day limit the police waited before investigating her disappearance. What to do? Could she make a U-turn and go back the way she came,or should she chance an even longer ferry ride to a more remote part of the Outer Banks?
A hurried knocking on her door made her jump in her skin.
“Hey, Jane, just wanted to say ‘good morning’ before I go to school,” Emma said. “I heard the shower on, so I know you’re not asleep. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered you.”
Sierra pasted on a smile and swept her hair back from her face, finger-combing it while she opened the flimsy, foam-core door.
“Hey. Have a good day at school.”
The perky teen had a broad smile, and her blue eyes shone with happiness. “I brought you my mom’s guitar in case you don’t have one.”
She dragged in a battered acoustic guitar case and leaned it against the wall.
“You miss your mom?” she asked, not sure if her mom had left them or had passed away. Her father still wore the wedding ring, so it must have been recent.
“Yeah.” The teen shuffled her feet. “I’d better run for the bus unless you want to drive me to school.”
Sierra didn’t want to be exposed, but something about the pleading note in the young girl’s voice tugged at her heart.
“Emma, the bus is leaving,” Hank shouted from downstairs. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry, I just wanted you to have a guitar in case it helps you with your songwriting.” The young girl retreated.
“Wait. I’ll drive you,” Sierra said as heavy footsteps came up the stairs.
“Young lady, you’re late.” Hank stopped short when he spotted Sierra.
“It was my fault,” she said. “We started talking, and well, I’ll drive her to school.”
Nothing could have surprised Hank more than to see his daughter standing at Jane’s door.
