Chapter Twenty-nine: Singing Low

Chapter Twenty-nine

Lincoln

SINGING LOW

Performed by The Fray

I felt Willow's conflict vibrating through her. She wanted to come clean with Hector about everything but was fighting the instinct to lie that had kept her safe for years. She cared for this man. Cared for him enough to want to see her mom with him. I couldn't imagine having to keep the truth of who you really were from everyone you loved. But then again, lying about a name and a past didn't change who you were. Your actions, how you treated others, how you lived was the truth of you.

Before Willow needed to lie even more, Axel showed up, and right behind him was the Cherry Bay police. A uniformed officer was accompanied by a man who introduced himself as Detective Muloney. He was in his fifties and was mostly bald but made up for the lack of hair on his head with an abundance of it on his face. Fit and trim in jeans, a button-down, and a wool blazer that seemed almost too much for barely three in the morning.

The detective took in the mural with angry eyes before saying, "Fuck, Hector. I'm damn sorry. Sophia's paintings…my sister was so proud of them. So proud of you and the shop." A stunned silence settled down in the room, and even Willow seemed taken aback by Hector's dead wife being Muloney's sister.

Jaw working overtime, the detective tugged on his beard, whipped out a notepad from a back pocket, and said, "Walk me through what's happened."

As Hector and Willow explained everything that had occurred leading up to the destroyed mural and why they thought Poco might be involved, Axel gave me a head nod, indicating he wanted to talk to me outside.

I squeezed Willow's hand, kissed her temple, and said, "I'll be right back."

She looked up with sad eyes that almost undid me. I wanted her joy, her infectious lightness, not the heaviness that had attempted to drag her down over and over the last few days. No matter how resilient she was, no matter how determined she was to focus on the good, even Willow had limits. The simple fact she wasn't smiling now made me yearn to destroy lives.

I followed Axel out the front door and onto the street. The old-fashioned streetlamps cast small circles along the cobblestones and sidewalks. The air smelled of cherry blossoms, and the fallen petals decorated the ground in a mosaic of pink and white shades.

"Is there a possibility this has nothing to do with Ms. Earhart?" he asked.

"If it's me they're after, I don't understand why they'd target Willow and Hector. I haven't known her for more than a week. The night things went down at the cemetery was the first time we'd ever spoken."

"But the note on the door arrived after you'd started spending time together? Is it possible this is the hate group who came after your father and the vice president and kidnapped Leya Singh?"

I hadn't even considered them being involved. "Willow wouldn't be their target. She's not a person of color. She's blond and white. They'd probably congratulate her on landing me." The bitter sarcasm in my voice wasn't missed by Axel.

"And you're sure the issues with Felicity Bradshaw are behind you?"

What did it say that Holden had asked the same question? That my mind kept journeying back to the man in the gray sedan? And yet I hadn't mentioned it to Axel last night. I'd wanted to believe Felicity was in my past, but she had reached out to me this week, and I'd ignored her. She'd tried to get information on me from my sister.

The angry grip on my lungs tightened even more. My finger found a brow, rubbing it before I pocketed my hand as dread wound through me. What if this was all because of me? Not just the photos that threatened to out Willow but the sick notes causing her fear as well?

The words written on the wall and the first note at Willow's picked at a memory. Hadn't Felicity said something similar to me once? After she'd finally realized she wasn't getting me back? I tried to remember the actual words she'd used. Something about not deserving the fairy-tale ending she'd had in mind for us.

Acid burned in my throat as I told Axel about her recent attempts to contact me, the things we knew for a fact she'd been responsible for, and about the man in the gray sedan.

"Does she know about your move to Cherry Bay?" Axel asked.

I told him about Katerina's conversation with her at the fundraiser. "Last fall, we removed all the malware from my devices. Nothing here is in my name, so it's more likely she was just fishing for information. I know for a fact she was in LA earlier this week, but it could be she hired someone new."

"The person who did this"—Axel looked at the destroyed mural through the windows—"knew how to get by the locks and the alarm system without leaving a trace behind. That's a professional. From what I've gathered of Poco Malta, he's some C-list criminal. I'm not sure he'd have the skills, but we'll poke around more. If this is Felicity having hired someone, how far do you think she'd go?"

My voice was grim as I responded. "I'd say Felicity would go pretty damn far. She made up an entire history with a stalker to try and get me to stay after we discovered she'd been messing with me. She had some mental health issues growing up the press never found out about." I paused before adding, "Chase it down. I hope it isn't her, but I need to know."

If it was her, if my choices and my mistakes had come back to haunt me, I'd find a way to fix it before anyone got seriously hurt, before more trauma clamped its ugly claws around another woman I loved.

That I loved.

Those words landed like their own arrow deep inside me.

I loved Willow.

I hardly knew her, and yet I couldn't deny the truth of those words. I'd agreed with Sienna that Willow was my person, which in and of itself had an implied permanency, an implied sense of love, but I hadn't put the actual words to it. But it was love.

Fast and furiously, I'd gone over the deep end once again, and it would be stupid to try to deny it. I loved her, which was why I was more determined than ever to keep her safe, to ensure her light continued to shine as brightly as possible.

I looked inside The Tea Spot and saw Willow pacing in front of the display case while Shay and Hector held on to each other. She was alone. Again. How many times since her father was murdered had she been forced to be alone? She had her mom, who I could tell from our single conversation loved Willow and would do anything to protect her, but she wasn't here. I'd seen Willow do more to try to guard her mom and their life here than the other way around.

She was trying to protect everyone around her, including me, in the way she hadn't been able to protect her father.

I bit my cheek, thinking of how our pasts were bleeding into our present.

This morning, I'd basically told Willow I wanted her to quit her job and work out of my house. And yes, it was because of my feelings for her, but wasn't it also a reaction to what I'd lost? I wanted to wrap her up and keep her hidden so she wouldn't get hurt. How did I move past that?

I'd declined Secret Service protection because I'd wanted my privacy. And yet, now I'd hired a company to do the opposite with Willow, to shadow her every move.

It was messed up. I was messed up.

I didn't know the right steps to take from here.

I turned my gaze to Axel's. The man had been staring at me while I went through revelation after revelation. His all-seeing eyes were not only assessing but judging me as well.

"Do you think you can end this?" I asked.

"We'll find out who's behind it. Whether it's the same person who took the photos who's also leaving the notes or more than one." The confidence in his voice should have been reassuring, but I'd lived my entire life observing my father's opponents act equally confident while lying through their teeth.

"I need it over and behind us. She'll never be able to move on with any of it hanging over her. I'm not just talking about the photos and whoever the hell destroyed that mural," I said, waving a hand toward the shop and the ruined painting. "I'm talking about the Viceroys and their lawyer brother. I want to know she doesn't have to live with that shadow. How do we do that?"

"We're not a hit squad." Axel's voice was dark and forbidding.

"I'm not suggesting you kill anyone. I want to know what I can do. I have to do something ." When he didn't respond immediately, I added on, "I recognize that money isn't always the answer, but I have a trust fund I haven't touched. I'd be willing to give it up entirely if it means she doesn't have to live in fear for even a second of one more day."

None of my family was the type to throw money at our problems. We worked through them and respected what had been passed down to us. But if I needed the money to keep her safe, I'd use every last dime of it, regardless of my original intention to hand it off to the next generation.

"You start handing out cash, and that will just ensure whoever this is comes back for more," Axel said curtly.

"I agree, but I also need to leave it on the table as an option. Give me an alternative. Give me something I can do to end this nightmare for her."

I didn't wait for another response. Instead, I strode with renewed determination back into The Tea Spot to the woman I'd fallen head over heels in love with. I wasn't asking to end this just for Willow. It was for me as well. If some asshole took her from me…if life or fate or whatever higher power that existed in the universe allowed that to happen…I'd never be able to open myself up to love again. Strike three, you're out.

So, I'd do everything in my power, use every resource possible, to make sure that didn't happen.

? ? ?

I hadn't wanted to leave Willow at the café, not even knowing she was surrounded by Axel's team. But after the police left, she and Hector had hustled into the kitchen and scrambled to catch up on the baking, and I was left with nothing to do but stare at the ruined mural. I had nothing to keep my mind from spiraling with doubts about whether it was both my past and my family's choices that were responsible for destroying Willow's world.

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 to The Exhibitor by 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 repeat Sienna look-alike dig. "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 because The Exhibitor didn'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?

"Even if this set of photos isn't leaked, Lincoln, you know someone is going to take one. You can't just disappear forever. If you don't show up at the inauguration or at any of Katerina's premieres, it's only going to fuel the media's speculation about you. The press will dig even harder." I could hear the worry in her tone. "If you really love her, if she loves you back, something is going to have to give."

"I'm working on it."

Silence settled for a beat. "We're attending our last event on the West Coast tonight. Your father is meeting with the British prime minister tomorrow afternoon, so we'll be back in D.C. Your father and I would like to meet Willow, but his schedule is impossible right now."

"We'll figure out something soon," I told her.

I wasn't sure I was ready for them to meet Willow. Not sure I could trust them not to upset her with their Sienna jabs and expectations, but as I had no intention of letting her go, it would happen eventually.

I wasn't letting her be whisked away by the Marshals or walk away to protect me. I wouldn't let her go without a fight. I'd battle the world, and even Willow herself, to prove that what we'd started could be forged into something stronger. We weren't an easy-to-burst bubble. We were something lasting. Nothing turpentine could wash away. We'd be granite. They could chip at us, but the base would still be there. Solid and unyielding.