Chapter Twenty-seven: Look After You

Chapter Twenty-seven

Lincoln

LOOK AFTER YOU

Performed by The Fray

I glanced over at Willow as my phone buzzed yet again with my mom's ringtone. The night before, I'd been concerned Willow would leave thinking I'd used her as a replacement for what I'd lost. This morning, I'd been afraid her fears about her mortality would send her running. And now, I was terrified she'd disappear because my life had just dumped itself in her lap. The Marshals were going to lose their minds if that image of us went public.

My insides tightened, and fury rolled through me. I'd just wanted a few months of peace and solitude. Of anonymity. Was that so much to ask? No one had a right to every second of my life just because my father had chosen to devote himself to this country. I hadn't agreed to give myself to them.

Had the man in the gray sedan taken the picture? I hadn't seen him since the day we'd danced in the street, but I had felt eyes on me—had felt them and not done a damn thing about it. I'd been so caught up in Willow, her story, her emotions, as well as my own desire, that I hadn't protected her like I'd promised.

My fury turned inward as my phone rang a third time.

"Has Merci stopped it?" I asked in lieu of a greeting.

"We're trying. Merci's contact at The Exhibitor told her someone sold them a handful of similar images," she said calmly. "We're seeing if they'll accept a counter-offer in order to not publish them."

A cold fear washed over me. "There's more than one?"

My phone vibrated with more photos. In addition to the one of us leaving the house, there was one of us walking side by side out of The Tea Spot and one of her trapped between me and the handlebar of the cart at the grocery store. I was disguised in two of them with my stupid hat and glasses, but Willow shined in every single damn one of them.

If these got out, the press would never let it go until they'd figured out who she was and why I was with her. Even if her witness protection cover story held, her picture would be right there for Aaron and the Viceroys to find. I didn't believe the notes were from them. I believed, like Willow had, a brutal street gang wasn't the kind to leave notes. They'd have taken a goddamn shot from the shadows. But even if it hadn't been them leaving the notes, they'd easily be able to find her now.

"I'll never understand why the hell they care about me! What does it matter who I date and for how long? There's no juicy story here, Mom."

She sighed, and I could almost imagine her running a single, elegant finger over an equally elegant brow. I'd picked the habit up from her, or maybe it was in our DNA.

"You know why, Lincoln. Americans crave their own royals to love and bash. You and your father are charming, attractive men. They want the gossip about you. You haven't made a single statement after Felicity's restraining order leaked. You simply disappeared from sight, and it left a vacuum they're desperate to fill. They've tossed around suicide attempts and rehab rumors. Merci read me a completely absurd one the other day where Felicity had you locked in her basement like that woman from the Stephen King book."

My chest grew tighter. Had I encouraged this? The mad search for Lincoln Matherton? Had I put Willow at risk even more than I'd realized because they were desperate to find me?

The guilt I'd recently thought I might be able to shed over Sienna and Lyrica, that Willow herself had handed me, came rushing back. I wouldn't let anything happen to Willow because of my choices. Screw that.

"Who is the Sienna look-alike?" Mom asked, sounding suddenly more weary and tired than she had in years, as tired as she'd been after she'd dragged me away from Lyrica's bedside after she'd been shot.

I realized she was just concerned, but irritation still flew through me, knowing all she saw when she looked at Willow was Sienna. They were nothing alike. Nothing. Sienna was all bluster and storm. Willow was quiet strength. Not any weaker, maybe even stronger because she was required to live her life without being seen.

I knew if I denied the physical similarity between them, if I went on the defensive, it would only make Mom think it was why I was with her. Just like Willow herself had thought it last night until I'd convinced her otherwise. So, instead of addressing who Willow was and why I was with her, I focused on the problem.

"Mom, I need to know who sold all of those photos."

Willow's head jerked toward me, her face incredibly pale as fear drifted over her like a veil.

"You know it's impossible. They'll never reveal their source, even if we convince them not to run them."

Willow twisted my phone, and on seeing the additional photos Mom had sent, she went even paler. "Oh my God…"

"Lincoln?" Mom's voice demanded my attention, and I lifted the phone back to my ear.

"Get Dad's people on it, Mom. The Secret Service, his communication people. I need to know who did this. Where they are. I'll pay to stop them from taking more." I heard the wild frenzy in my voice, knew she'd snag onto it too, but it was the truth.

"Before, I was just concerned because you hadn't told us you were seeing anyone and because she looks so much like Sienna. Now, I'm really worried. What's wrong?"

"I can't talk about it. But we need to stop whoever this is. Right now. Tonight."

"I need an explanation, but for now, let me place some more calls." She hung up without another word.

I turned to Willow. "I'm so sorry. I'm… Damnit, I didn't think they'd find me so soon. Not like this. I thought we had time. I never would have risked going out to the store with you if I had. Mom is stopping it. She thinks she can. And we'll find out who it is. We'll keep them from taking any more."

I wouldn't just rely on my mom, and I couldn't bring Hardy in again, but I could hire someone else. My own damn security. An investigator.

"With the notes…and now this…" her voice cracked. "God… Mom…"

I pulled her into me, and she went rigid before finally resting her forehead on my chest. I surrounded her the best I could, trying to provide some kind of comfort. Some sort of peace.

"It doesn't matter if it was Poco now or if it was just his thugs last night," she said as her whole body trembled. I hated that it was because someone had made money off my life once again and sold me out to the press. "As soon as it breaks, the Marshals will move us."

"We still have time to stop it. All of it." Holding Willow with one arm, I flicked through the contacts on my phone until I found Leya.

Within seconds of explaining what I needed, she'd handed me off to her husband. Before he'd fallen madly in love with her, Holden had once been the lead agent on Leya's Secret Service detail. He'd walked away from his career to be at her side and was now heading up her band's security.

"I need a security team that can be here tonight."

"Hardy will come back if you ask," Holden said.

"That will take paperwork and time I don't have. Plus, he'll be governed by rules I have no intention of following."

He hesitated. "Do you think this is Felicity again?"

"No." But then I hesitated. Had Felicity hired the guy in the sedan? The guy on the street who'd looked at me with such unabashed anger? I'd thought he'd been angry over politics or just was naturally pissed off at life. But then I remembered what Felicity had said to Katerina about the small town I was in, and my fear grew. Maybe this was someone else she'd hired to hunt me down. "I don't think so, but that's an avenue whoever comes to work for me will have to consider. Do you know anyone who can get here tonight?"

"Reinard doesn't have anyone near you, but our partner company, Garner Security, is based out of D.C. Let me call Wayne and Axel and have one of them contact you. Is this the number you want me to give them?" Holden asked.

"That would be great," I said, inhaling sharply. "And thanks. I appreciate it."

We hung up, and I held on to Willow, wishing I could go back and redo those few moments when we'd been out in the open and I hadn't taken enough precautions. I'd been living a fairy tale, hoping the magic of the town could keep me hidden. But I should have known better. Shouldn't have expected the quiet to last. And now my slipup could cost me Willow. Even worse, it could cost her the entire world she and her mom had built for themselves out of the rubble of their old one.

? ? ?

It took almost three hours before a black Escalade with tinted windows showed up at the curb. During that time, I'd fielded several calls from Mom and Dad. Between Merci and Dad's team, they'd gotten the article nixed, but they couldn't get anyone to cough up the source. I ignored several texts from both my sisters and repeated ones from Lyrica. Damn Merci had told her about the pictures. Maybe even shot her off a few to prove a point. If I couldn't keep my own damn family from sharing them, how would we stop the wolflike media from going in for the kill?

I'd prevented Willow from retreating to the cottage only by causing her more fear. By telling her whoever had taken the pictures might see her. That I needed the team I'd hired to clear the area. She hadn't called the Marshals, but she'd left a message on her mom's phone for her to call back. I could practically feel her self-reproach weighing her down as much as it dragged at me.

Now, I watched on my security app as four men slipped into the darkness surrounding the house just like the Secret Service used to. The fact I was letting them back in my life bit at me. The lack of privacy and knowing everything I did was going to be watched all over again made my neck crawl. But I'd do it. I'd give up every ounce of my privacy if it ensured Willow's safety.

The last man to get out of the SUV walked up to the front door, eyed the broken pane, and then rang the bell, staring directly into the camera. I let him in and showed him into the kitchen where Willow and I had retreated with the blinds all shut and cups of tea in hand.

The man stood well over six feet, even a few inches over me, and was built like a cage fighter with hair darker than mine that showed off golden eyes. His nose had clearly been broken without being reset, and his jawline screamed an arrogant, confident swagger I'd seen mostly from soldiers in special forces.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" I asked him.

"No. Thank you." He took in Willow, and unlike the Secret Service agent who'd shown up yesterday, the assessing gaze didn't curl through me. He was eyeing her like I eyed an art piece I was considering for the gallery. Like a job. He stuck his hand out to her. "Axel Garner. I'm sorry you've been having trouble. I'm here to ensure it stops."

"Whether the guy leaving us notes is also the person who took the pictures or not, we need to stop both from happening again. It's imperative we keep Willow's pictures out of the press," I told him.

While we'd waited for the team to show up, Willow and I had argued about how much to tell them. I'd wanted to tell them the whole story. The Chicago gang, the notes, Poco, everything. If we didn't, they wouldn't know what to look out for and might be caught by surprise, but Willow had been adamant that telling them she was in witness protection had to be left off the table.

Axel took the decision away from us. His gold eyes landed on me before they went back to Willow. "Because you're in WITSEC."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement, and Willow's eyes turned wide. "Who told you that?"

"Your history did. I've had a team digging into both of you from the moment Mr. Matherton called."

"It's Lincoln. And I didn't ask you to do that." My irritation grew, wondering if this was just another colossal mistake. We could have waited for Hardy, or I could have let her call the Marshals. But if she did, I'd never see her again.

Damn it, maybe that was the only right answer. Maybe the only way for me to ensure she was safe was to push her as far away from me as possible. Even as the thought landed, Sienna materialized behind Willow, shaking her head violently, and I heard her voice in my head, Don't be daft. She's the one, Lincoln. She needs you. You need her. Stick it out.

When my gaze moved back to the live people in the room, they were both watching me stare at the air.

Axel's eyes narrowed in on me. "I don't take on a job without fully understanding what I'm getting my team into any more now than I did in my Army Ranger days."

"If you figured it out, does that mean others might have as well?" Willow asked shakily.

"Highly unlikely, but not impossible. I worked several cases with the Marshals in my past life. I know how they work. Your backstop is almost perfect. Maybe a bit too perfect, actually. We can fix that easily enough. Who are you hiding from?"

Willow's hands tightened on the teacup, and she looked to me and away before swallowing and giving him the highlights of her dad's murder and the trouble with the Viceroys. I was hit all over again with how brave she was. How brave she'd been at sixteen in a closet or at twenty testifying at the trial. Her strength was more than admirable. Even still, I could see it upset her, talking about it again. I wanted to hold her, but she'd pulled back emotionally and physically from me while waiting for Garner's men to show up. And maybe that was what we both needed. Time to calm down. Time to figure out how to keep her safe without the heady throb of desire overwhelming our senses.

"It should be over," she added softly after finishing the story. "But a few days ago, the Marshals told us Roci Vitale had been killed in prison, and then, I started getting the notes."

She showed him photos of the notes Special Agent Johnson had picked up.

"Why haven't the Marshals moved you?" Axel asked with a frown. After Willow and I exchanged another look, he added, "You haven't told them."

Willow set the cup down and told him about Poco and how we'd hoped that it had to do with him rather than anything from Chicago. I added on what Hardy had found out about Poco's whereabouts and how he could have used one of his men to throw the rocks.

Axel tapped his fingers along the table almost as if he was typing on a keyboard. "I'll have my people reach out to Hardy and follow up on Poco. We don't have anyone on the ground in Chicago, especially not inside the local street gangs, but I'll see what we can do."

Willow's shoulders slumped, and the way her naturally smiling lips were curved down ate at me. I slid my hand into hers, squeezing it reassuringly before turning to Axel and asking, "What else do you need from us?"

"You're both familiar with detail coverage. We'll need your schedule for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours at a minimum. If you're going out of town, I'll need longer notice to ensure we have those locations secure. We'll also need a list of people you want to allow access to you and your homes. I'll add a few more men to the roster to make sure the house across the street is covered as well as this one." Like every security person I'd worked with, he was calm, emotionless, exuding confidence.

I hated it. I hated having it back in my life when I'd finally walked away from it. But then, I felt Willow's shoulders relax, and the hatred disappeared. If this was what it took to ensure she was safe, it was an easy sacrifice. I'd sell my own soul, my dirty laundry, all my secrets, to make sure nothing ever hurt her again.