40. Luna

"We should be feeding the turtles," I told Ryder. "Who's feeding the turtles?"

Okay, so I hadn't exactly been a fan of the turtles when I first came to San Gallicano, but they'd grown on me. They were kind of cute, the way they waited for their dinner, and they moved through the water with a weird grace. And as long as you didn't stick your hand near their mouth, they were harmless. Plus they helped the environment. They were predator, host, and prey. Who knew sea creatures could be so complicated?

Not me.

Not until this month, anyway.

Each species preferred to eat a particular diet. Hawksbills kept fast-growing sponges from overwhelming the reefs. Green turtles snacked on seagrass and stopped it from getting too long. Leatherbacks kept the jellyfish population under control. Loggerheads ate crustaceans and the digested shells added nutrients to the sea bottom. The turtles were a habitat in themselves—small creatures lived on them, and fish liked to eat those. In turn, birds and fish ate the baby turtles, and bigger creatures such as sharks and killer whales ate the adults. Plus land animals feasted on the eggs, which was why we needed to collect them and bring them to the hatchery at the sanctuary.

The hatchery.Those jerks who shot at us had trampled over the little piles of buried eggs, and when I'd carefully uncovered them with Jubilee, we'd found that Knox and Caro weren't the only victims of the raid.

And maybe it was my fault. Ryder said there were three suspects—the poachers, Caro's ex-boyfriend, and my stalker. At first, I hadn't worried about the man sending nasty messages. I mean, it wasn't exactly hard to spew bile through an online comments form—people did it all the time, and looking back, I couldn't even blame them. I'd done some really dumb things, caught up in an endless quest for likes and attention in a fruitless attempt to make other people happy. But what about me? Had I ever truly been happy? It had taken time on Valentine Cay and all those late-night chats with Ryder to find the answer. To realise that things had to change. I had to change them. If I walked right back into my old life as everyone expected, I'd be miserable forevermore.

But now? Now, I was scared. What if I'd brought this chaos to the sanctuary? Franklin was in the hospital, fighting for his life in the ICU, and he was a nice old guy. He didn't say much, but he'd always been kind. Caro was gone. Just gone. She hadn't wanted me there, and maybe she'd been right when she said I was trouble.

The walls closed in as I paced the tiny hotel room. Usually, I stayed in a suite, but this place didn't have suites. The best they could do was a twin deluxe. Which was far from deluxe, but at least Ryder was there to stop any mercenaries from breaking down the door, and Tango was dozing on a blanket by the window, instantly alert at the slightest sound. The dog had grown on me too. I'd never spent time with a dog before, but she seemed to sense when I was super sad and licked my hand.

"Detective Fernandez promised he'd take care of it," Ryder said from his perch on the desk.

"Detective Fernandez? No, that won't work."

Firstly, I didn't trust him. I might not have graduated high school, but I wasn't as dumb as people said. At least, I didn't think I was. Anyhow, the police had called Ryder away, and suddenly people with guns showed up? Right. A total coincidence. And secondly, if Detective Fernandez was feeding the turtles, then who was looking for Caro? He wasn't a great detective, but anyone was better than no one.

"He's volunteered at the sanctuary in the past, and he says he knows what food to use."

"If he's as good at animal care as he is at detecting, he'll end up poisoning the turtles."

Ryder choked out a laugh. "He wouldn't dare to do that with all the eyes on him right now."

"You think?"

"President Harrison called the Prime Minister of San Gallicano and piled on the pressure. The police chief is probably shitting himself."

"Really? The president called? How do you know that?"

"Trade secret."

"I hate this. I hate being stuck here."

Jubilee looked up from her laptop. "Why don't you watch TV? The new series of The Electi just came out on Netflix."

I used to watch so much TV, but that was when the most important thing in the world of Luna Maara had been my next TikTok video. I couldn't go back to that life. I couldn't. And I had no idea how to explain that to Mom when she got released from jail.

"I don't want to watch Netflix. When can we get out of this place?"

"Kory's on his way back with the Cleopatra, and the lawyer has an appointment with Judge Morgan to try and get your sentence shortened. If he agrees, then we'll be able to leave the island right away."

"Leave? I'm not leaving. Not leaving San Gallicano, I mean. I just hate this hotel. It smells weird."

Like old tobacco and Lysol. Hadn't these people heard of fragrance diffusers?

Jubilee's brow creased. She was definitely going to get wrinkles.

"You want to stay? But?—"

"Of course I want to stay." Okay, so it would be good if we could skip town before Mom got out of jail, but I needed Ryder to keep me safe, and he wanted to stay with Knox. "Caro's still missing."

"But you don't even like Caro."

I hadn't at first, but after a rocky beginning, she'd been civil. And even if she hadn't been super friendly, she'd been happy to teach me about turtles. Maybe we would have become friends if I hadn't given Jubilee the go-ahead to post that stupid video?

"I don't not like her."

There was a knock at the door, and when Ryder didn't leap up with a gun in his hand, I had to assume it was one of his colleagues. Probably Black. Which was a weird name, but it suited him because he had dark hair, dark eyes, and a dark aura. Mom said the aura thing was baloney, but I felt what I felt. Anyhow, Ryder said that Black would be coming by to ask more questions, which was pointless because I didn't have any answers, but I'd sit here and listen if it made them happy. Perhaps there would be some news about Caro?

Ryder checked the peephole, then opened the door, and yes, it was the giant. The blonde woman was with him, Emmy, Ryder's boss, the one who made me nervous. He kept his distance from me when they walked in, and I understood why. I'd had enough bodyguards to know that they weren't meant to spend their evenings floating in the sea with their clients, holding hands as they gazed up at the star-freckled sky.

"Any news?" Ryder asked.

Emmy dropped into the chair by the window. "Information is flowing in, but we're no closer to finding Caro."

The giant stayed on his feet. Was he trying to intimidate me? Julius often did that, and it usually worked.

"At the moment, we're having to spread our resources three ways, so we want to get to the bottom of the stalker mystery," he said. "When did you first start receiving messages?"

"I don't know. Nobody told me about them until last month."

Maybe I should have pushed for more details, but honestly, I hadn't wanted to know. Knox and Ryder were there to keep me safe, so what did it matter if there were two messages or two hundred?

"Uh, the first one came in January last year," Jubilee said. "Right after Luna's wardrobe malfunction at the Crystal Beach New Year Party."

Now, that was a night I didn't want to remember. I'd been singing in front of an audience of two thousand, a small crowd by my standards but plenty big enough that there were a hundred videos of the incident. Halfway through the first verse of "Poison," the strap of my halter top gave way, and the flimsy piece of silver cloth succumbed to the lure of gravity. I'd finished the song with a fake grin on my face and one arm clamped over my boobs because what else could I do? Weep in front of the world? I could still picture Jubilee's look of horror as she watched from the wings, holding out a sweaty T-shirt she'd persuaded a poor sound tech to part with. Mom, on the other hand, said I'd handled the situation perfectly. That coverage was through the roof—of the show, obviously, not my boobs—and that little faux pas had probably made me a quarter mil.

Off stage, I'd berated the costume designer, something I wasn't proud of, but it was either yell or cry. And after she examined the garment and basically accused me of unpicking the stitching myself, I'd yelled some more and then run to the bathroom to hide before the tears came. Now I checked the seams on every single costume before I left the dressing room.

"That was the message that said Luna was asking for it, and soon she'd get what she deserved?"

Jubilee glanced in my direction but wouldn't meet my gaze. "Yes."

"And the second message?"

"It came after the Glitz Awards."

Right. Mom had agreed to a collab with an up-and-coming designer, and I ended up wearing a dress made from cotton candy. And do you know what happens when cotton candy gets wet? It freaking melts. Some dumb-ass comedian threw an ice bucket full of water over me as I walked past his table, and I was left standing there in pink lace lingerie. I held it together long enough to collect my award and wave as I exited stage left in ankle-breaking pumps, then I kicked off the shoes and ran. Ran until I slammed into Red Bennett in a corridor and he wrapped me up in his leather jacket and half carried me back to my dressing room.

"And that one said, ‘Next time, I'll be the one to wrap you in a jacket and carry you back home. Then I'll lick you clean and show you what you've been missing.'"

"Yes."

My spine turned to ice. The part with the jacket, that had been private. Nobody knew except a few venue staff, Red Bennett, and my family. And my stalker. I opened my mouth to say something, but all that came out was a sob. I saw Ryder's hands ball into fists.

"That was when Amethyst decided to hire bodyguards," Jubilee said. "But the first ones weren't very good."

Understatement. They were big men, big intimidating men, bigger even than Black. And not in such good shape either. Joe and Harry. Joe never went anywhere without a burger in his hand, and when a pervert walked right up to me and exposed himself, Harry was too busy taking a selfie with a fan to notice. Not until I screamed, anyway. What did I scream? I screamed, "You're fired."

"I've read through the messages," Black said. "And a common theme is that all except the first one contain snippets of information that only someone close to Luna would know. Correct?"

Jubilee gulped and nodded.

"But nobody's ever spotted a common face in the crowd?"

"No."

"Not one of these professional bodyguards has ever raised concerns about a man who's too still, too close, or too interested?"

"Nuh-uh, not that they ever said."

"We've had two highly trained operators specifically looking for threats for the past month. They've used electronic surveillance devices in addition to their own senses, and they haven't spotted anything either. What does that tell you?"

Jubilee squirmed in her seat, and I began to get a tiny bit annoyed. I wasn't paying these people to make my cousin, my best friend, uncomfortable.

"It tells me that the stalker is craftier than you people," I snapped, then wished I hadn't because I'd accidentally insulted Ryder.

"You know what it tells me?"

"No, but I'm sure you're going to let us know."

Emmy's lips twitched, and I wasn't sure whether she was annoyed or amused. I hoped she wasn't annoyed. She scared me more than I'd ever admit.

"It tells me there isn't a stalker at all."

"Then who's sending the messages?"

"Perhaps Jubilee can tell us." He turned back to her. "Go ahead."

"How would she know? She's not a freaking detective. Literally nobody on this whole island is capable of solving a crime."

I looked to Ryder, hoping for support, knowing I wouldn't get any because he was in an impossible position. He wouldn't choose me over his bosses. As I expected, he didn't say a word.

Emmy huffed out a sigh. "Let's quit with the subtle approach. Luna, there are only three people who stay close to you the whole time. You, Jubilee, and your mother. A month ago, my money would have been on your mom because, let's face it, she's a real piece of work, but she doesn't have internet access in jail. We checked. Which means you or Jubilee sent those messages. Do you have something you want to tell us?"

She'd lost her mind. The B-I-T-C-H had lost her freaking mind. "You're crazy! You're all crazy. Caro's missing, and you're in here accusing?—"

"It wasn't me," Jubilee whispered, so quietly I almost missed the words. "It was Cordelia."

Emmy just chuckled. "Damn, we were close, but no cigar."

Was Jubilee serious? That filth had come out of Lady Cordelia's head? I almost couldn't believe it, and yet…and yet it was exactly the sort of nasty thing she'd do.

"Tell us what happened," Black ordered. "The whole story, start to finish."

Jubilee wouldn't look at me, not even a glance. "Cordelia and I, we talk sometimes. She worries about Luna."

"Worries about me? Worries that I'll damage her precious reputation, more like."

"She thinks you're self-destructive."

"You think I wanted some idiot to throw a bucket of water over me?"

"There were rumours that you paid him to do it."

I spun away, anger balancing on the cusp of hurt. The way she said that…

"And you believed them?"

"He said someone paid him ten thousand dollars."

"Well, it wasn't me. I don't even know how to work a stupid ATM. What was I going to do? Ask my accountant to mail a cheque?"

"Cordelia just wanted you to…cover up a bit. And I didn't totally agree with her on everything because why shouldn't you wear a bathing suit, but…" Jubilee sucked in a shaky breath. "She said it would be for the best if I helped her. That you'd thank us eventually. I know you don't like that the Duke of Southcott is your father, but he did pay so much money in child support when we were little, and without that, what would we have done?"

"I don't know, maybe Mom could have gotten a second job instead of taking me to pageants every weekend?"

"But you loved dressing up."

"No, I loved not getting yelled at. Do you know how much I envied you, being allowed to stay with a neighbour and your books while I had to prance around in swimwear and smile until my face hurt?"

"You…you never said anything."

"I was a child! Whenever I said something negative, I got a lecture, and it was easier to just sing or dance or whatever. And now I'm in so deep I can never get out. Do you know what would happen if I quit? If I walked away from showbiz? People would still follow me. They'd still take pictures and scream my name, except then I'd be ‘Luna Maara, failed pop star.' And Mom would probably send me to rehab again."

"I thought you said rehab gave you a new perspective?"

"It was bullshit!" I was screaming now. Screaming and swearing. I clapped a hand over my mouth, relieved when nobody told me off for using foul language. "I just say whatever people want to hear because it's the only way to get out of there. You never got locked up that way. You went to school, and the mall, and the movies. You have friends. You can talk to boys."

Okay, so the "talk to boys" part I didn't envy, especially since her on-again, off-again beau was a little twerp named Benji who somehow managed to be both creepy and super boring at the same time. Thankfully, they were "off" at the moment.

"But you always said you didn't like boys."

"That's not the freaking point!"

Black's cadence didn't change. His voice never rose beyond that soft tone I'd have struggled to hear over the sound of the sea.

"Why don't we give Luna some space?" He hooked a finger at Jubilee. "That means you."

Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and she opened her mouth as if she wanted to argue, but Black didn't strike me as a man used to being disobeyed. She must have sensed that too, because she picked up her purse and trudged to the door.

A part of me, the part that had leaned on Jubilee for so many years, that had confided in her and shielded her, laughed, cried, and dreamed with her, ached that she looked so broken. But she'd lied to me. Betrayed me. Sided with a half-sister who hated me, and why? Because I showed too much flesh for my stuck-up sperm donor's comfort? I didn't even pick my own clothes.

The door clicked closed, and Ryder reached me in four long strides. I collapsed into his arms.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like I want to put on a cotton candy bikini and pole dance in front of my father's gates."

"In the rain?"

Ryder got me. He really got me. I hadn't felt this comfortable around anyone in…well, forever.

"Yes, and upload the video to every social media channel that won't ban me for breaching community standards."

He hugged me tighter, and I rested my head against his hard chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my cheek.

"Thank you for being here," I murmured. "I mean like this, not just because I'm paying you to be. You're the one person in my life who hasn't lied to me or taken advantage of me, or both."

His heart beat faster, speeding up to match my own.

"I'll always be here for you, moon."