18. Ryder

18

In high school, Ryder had faced off against linebackers, in the Navy, he'd survived Hell Week, and at Blackwood, he'd undertaken missions on six continents, but none of those challenges had been as tough as keeping his hands off Luna Maara that afternoon. He wanted to touch her, needed to touch her, but instead, he had to walk three feet behind and avoid eye contact. If their gazes connected, his thin thread of self-control would snap.

This morning had changed her, he knew that much. Changed both of them. She'd spent her whole life thinking sex was a nightmare to be avoided at all costs, and now her mind had opened to the possibilities. To the reality that between people who cared deeply for each other, it was a beautiful thing.

He'd got her off again before they left for the Palace—in the shower, her arms wrapped around his neck while his fingers slid over her clit. Then he'd carefully dried every inch of her, and she'd lain on the bed while he massaged rose-scented moisturiser into her skin and made a mental note to pick up lube because fifty bucks a hand job wasn't financially viable in the long term. Blackwood paid well, but not that well.

Luna had worn a dress today, a short pink skater dress teamed with heels so high they brought her eyes level with his chin. He wanted her to keep them on while?—

Time and a place, asshole.

Ryder nodded a greeting to the guard as they walked through the stage door. There had been no more incidents, and Monroe was checking the gifts personally from now on. He'd removed a dildo from the offerings today, but that wasn't from Mark A. No, a sicko named "Tyler the Great" had sent that one, along with a selection of dick pics and a note suggesting where she might stick it. Ryder knew where he wanted to stick it.

Luna had a spring in her step today, and Ryder matched it. Emmy called Black her other half, and Ryder had always thought it was just a figure of speech, but now he understood it was more than that. Luna really was a part of him now. She'd slotted so neatly into his life that to tear them apart would risk irreparable damage.

His sister, Phoebe—she was renowned for her bluntness—had once told him that his dick went for the pretty ones and his heart went for the needy ones. The ones who needed fixing. That had been in the aftermath of Neve, and he'd told her to mind her own business, but now he understood she'd been right. He'd tried to mend Neve without realising quite how damaged she was inside, even though she kept telling him herself that she was broken. But Luna… With a little TLC, Luna was changing every day. She was stronger than he'd ever dared to hope.

A tiny, delicate titan.

But when she walked into her dressing room, she froze, and Ryder damn near walked into the back of her.

"Luna, my darling." The man rose, arms out as if he expected a hug, but she didn't move. "It's been too long."

Ryder recognised the face, although the pictures he'd seen must have been taken from a good angle. In the flesh, Julius Whitlow looked fifty, not forty.

"What are you doing here?" Luna's voice came out flat.

"You didn't pick up my calls."

"That's because I didn't want to talk to you."

"Luna, I'm your agent. We have to communicate."

"Then you can call my lawyer, and she'll call me."

"We're in the same city. Why incur that additional expense?" He patted the arm of the couch. "Come, let's have a chat. You'll want to hear this."

"Hear what?"

Julius flicked his wrist at Ryder. "You can wait outside."

Asshole.

Luna was having none of it. "He's staying right here."

"Always so touchy." The agent sighed. "Fine. Sit."

She sat on the chair in front of the mirror, the one Julius had vacated when they came in. No room for two.

"Talk, then leave."

Luna had said she hated her agent, but Ryder hadn't realised how much. She'd stuck with him throughout her whole career, after all. But now, watching the way she regressed, her arms wrapped around herself and her legs pressed together, he wondered why.

"It's good news. I've been working my contacts, and I think we could have a new recording contract on the table soon."

"Really?"

She didn't exactly sound thrilled by the prospect.

"Really. A three-album, five-year deal with Taliska Records. One of the big boys, Luna. We're talking eight figures. Your mom told me about the unfortunate incident with your accountant, so this would set you up again for life."

"What about touring?"

"Oh, sure, they'd want you to tour. That's where the big money is these days. But you're a born performer, Luna. The audience loves you."

"Five years?"

"It's a great deal. Obviously, we'd have to extend our arrangement to cover the same time period, but if you're parting company with Stargirl permanently, we can create a new contract with the same terms."

"No."

"No to which part?"

"I'd rather wait tables at McDonald's than be tied to you for another five years."

Good girl. There was that backbone she'd been growing. Whitlow's gaze flicked toward Ryder, and Ryder realised that this was why he'd wanted the room to themselves. He couldn't pressure Luna with an audience.

"Nobody waits tables at McDonald's, my darling."

"Whatever. You get my point."

"Take a breath and think this through."

"Oh, I've thought things through. After this show finishes, I'm taking six months off. And either you make a deal that doesn't involve extending the contract between us, or you don't make one at all."

"If we part company, people will want to know why, especially after I made you a star."

This time, it was Luna's turn to glance at Ryder. He offered a tiny smile, and she straightened. Leaned forward an inch. Locked her gaze on Whitlow.

"You think they'll ask why? Then maybe I'll fucking tell them."

The man flinched, and so did Ryder. That was the first time he'd heard Luna swear, and also the first time he'd heard her speak with such cold fury. Even when she'd been yelling at him in San Gallicano, her anger had been fiery.

She got to her feet and headed for the door, but Whitlow snagged her wrist as she passed.

"Luna, wait. We can talk about this."

Motherfucker. Ryder ran across the room and grabbed his arm, squeezing until the asshole yelped.

"Get off me, you Neanderthal!"

"Not until you release my client." He added a "sir" at the end, but made it sound more like "fuck you."

The man let her go, but Ryder held on for another second, squeezing tighter just because he could, taking satisfaction in the way Whitlow's eyes began to water.

"Ryder, it's okay," Luna said. "He's leaving."

"You're a psycho," Whitlow spat when he had his arm back, complete with white marks where the blood supply had been cut off. "That was assault."

"I hired him to protect me," Luna told her agent. "That includes from you."

Then it clicked.

Whitlow had been with Luna her whole career. She'd known him when she was sixteen.

He scared her.

She wouldn't meet with him alone.

And she held a secret big enough to make him flinch.

Luna had said her rapist was a big shot in the music industry, but Ryder had assumed she meant a producer or an artist that she bumped into on the showbiz circuit. He'd never dreamed the man was her fucking agent. The growl that rose in Ryder's throat wasn't human, and Whitlow must have sensed the danger because he bolted from the room. Ryder would have followed, but Luna grabbed his hand and hung on.

"Don't go after him. Don't. He's not worth it."

Ryder kicked the door shut. "It was him, wasn't it? Julius Whitlow was the man who raped you."

Luna's tears were all the answer he needed. He picked her up and held her, and she clung on tight as she cried against his shoulder.

"I'll fucking kill him."

"No!" She leaned back and cupped his cheeks with both hands. "Why do you think I didn't tell you? I can cope with what he did—I've been coping with it for the past ten years—but I couldn't cope if you ended up in jail."

"I can make it look like an accident."

"Please, don't do anything. At least for the moment."

"I don't understand why he's still your agent."

"Mom."

That was all she needed to say. Once again, Amethyst Puckett had put her daughter's career above her well-being.

"She just let him get away with it?"

"Not quite? She made him apologise and argued the percentage he takes down to ten instead of fifteen."

Cold, that was damn cold.

"Your mom is a real piece of work."

"You think I don't know that? We'd both been drinking, and he said I was asking for it, so she said nobody would believe me even if we reported it. I'm not even sure she believed my side of the story, anyway. Julius's dad owned my old record label—he's sold it now—and Mom said we couldn't turn down the deal they were offering."

"You were sixteen?"

Luna nodded.

"And he was what, thirty?"

"Twenty-nine."

"Where did you get the drinks?"

"He gave them to me."

Ryder tore a hand through his hair. The man had groomed a young girl from a position of power, and how many other women had he preyed on? He deserved to have his throat ripped out, but Luna had to come first. Luna always had to come first.

"If he touches you again, I'm gonna throw him off a building."

"I don't think he would dare touch me with you around."

"I'll speak to Monroe, get him barred from the venue."

"Thank you."

Ryder set her onto the floor and wiped her cheeks with a sleeve. "You okay to perform tonight?"

"Of course." She put on a bright smile, and the effect was unnerving. "I'm a pro at this."