“Thank you, Barcelona. I love you,” Luna shouts, bringing both her palms to her lips to blow kisses into the seething masses cloaked by darkness. She waves for longer than she did in Berlin and Athens and even embraces her dancers before jogging off the stage.
Luna’s buzzing in the dressing room and all the way back to the hotel. Our plan is to collect Mo and head out to a casino for some fun, but when we get up to the top floor, we’re greeted by police at the door to our room.
“What the hell?” Connor shouts. “Mo, where the fuck are you?”
Mo’s voice sounds from inside Luna’s room, and Connor, Elijah, and Jax stream inside, leaving the rest of us to huddle around our worried-looking client. A heated discussion begins as Connor tries to get to the bottom of what is going on. From what I can hear, someone left a box outside Luna’s room, and when Mo took it inside to check its contents, he found something bad.
“Again?” Luna says, gazing up at me. Resting my hand against her arm, I stroke in a way that I hope is reassuring.
“Remember when we told you that we’ll keep you safe and that you need to trust us? Well, this is one of those times that it’s better that you don’t ask any questions about the specifics. Whatever happens, no one is going to get close to you. They might try, but between you and them are seven huge men who would fight to the death to protect you, okay?”
“To the death?” Her smile is fleeting. Does she think that I’m being overdramatic? She’d be mistaken if she did. I’ve seen my friends step directly into danger to assist each other. When Hartley was injured, there was no question that my friends would step in to help him. That’s the way we are together, and that’s how it is with Luna.
“To the death,” I say.
Connor appears in the doorway. “Take Luna to your room,” he says, “and keep the door closed.” And to Luna, he says, “I’m sorry, honey, but there’s no way we can go out tonight.”
Rather than kicking up a stink about it as she did in Berlin, Luna nods once. “It’s okay. I have a pack of cards in my suitcase. We can play strip poker instead.”
We all chuckle, and Luna beams, happy that she’s lightened a tense moment.
That night, we play cards, agreeing to save strip poker to another night. And later, when Luna is sleeping, Mo tells us what he found in the box. A picture of Luna’s pretty face, stuck onto the body of a naked woman in a compromising position, but it’s the handcuffs and the knife that cause us all the greatest concern.
Whoever this psycho fuck is, he better fade into the background because if one of us catches him, he’s never going to recover from his injuries.
19
ASHER
The tour continues through Europe, stopping in Rome, Prague, Helsinki, Brussels, Warsaw, Stockholm, Dubrovnik, and Paris. Although I’m certain that Luna would have liked to roam the streets and see the sights, she never raises it. I guess she understands the risks now. Or maybe it’s because we spend all our nights working to keep her happy.
Happy might be the wrong word. We spend all our free time sending her to heaven and back. I smile at the memories of last night when we fucked her so good that she called out for heavenly intervention.
Now we’re on a flight to Australia, buzzing with excitement. None of us have ever been “down under,” and because the flight is so long, I find myself imagining that things might be a little different once we get there. Whoever has been following Luna around Europe trying to scare the bejesus out of her could travel easily and cheaply. A flight to Australia is a whole other ballgame.
This time, we’re flying with other members of the entourage, and the plane is filled with noisy chatter. I could do without it, to be honest. All I want to do is get to the hotel and decompress.
“Can you believe that they’re serving us another meal?” Luna says, shaking her head. “I feel as though I just finished that chicken, and it’s not like we’re expending any energy.”
“I know a really fun way to remedy that,” Jax says, keeping his voice low so Angelica and the others can’t hear.
“Oooo…the mile-high club,” Luna exclaims. “Are you a member?”
Jax shakes his head, pasting a disappointed hang-dog expression onto is face. “You could change that, baby,” he murmurs.
“Connor would have my head on a platter for corrupting you on the job,” she says.
Connor, who’s had his face buried in a free copy of a newspaper he picked up in the airport, lowers the black and white pages and looks at us all in the same way my father used to look at me when he caught me dancing in the kitchen. He’s playing at being disappointed, but it brings back difficult feelings.