“Chris. It was the Hollises. That’s who killed my mom. If I could just find Luna—”
He got to the sidewalk and faced me, throwing up his arms. “You know, ever since I met you, you’ve been saying the same thing. If I could just find Luna. If I could just find Luna. And every time you find her, shit gets worse. Maybe you should just let her go. Let her disappear and move on with your life, Nikki. Try finding Nikki.” He started away, but turned back. “And call me if you ever want to help me for a change.”
I watched him as he walked away, keeping my eyes on him until he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.
He wasn’t wrong. The deeper I got into things with Luna and clan, the worse things got. How many times would I cheat death before she won?
“At least one more,” I said aloud. I walked back to my car more motivated than ever. Chris and I might be broken, but Luna would not break me.
I would not let her get away.
23
I THOUGHT SHELBY would never leave her house. I’d been parked across the street for what seemed like forever, waiting. A quick check of the clock told me it had only been about two hours, but being alone made it feel much longer. I tried not to think about Chris while I was waiting, and twice had to force myself to put down the phone while on the verge of texting him.
He didn’t want to hear from me.
I felt a little guilty for the way things had gone down between us. Which was exactly why things needed to go down that way between us. Guilt was just another reason why I thought relationships were bullshit. I had nothing to feel guilty about. I didn’t owe him a damn thing.
Did I?
I probably did. Which told me I’d gotten way too close to him. I knew I had—sitting by his bedside after the accident. Confiding in him. Kissing him. Pressing up against him at igNight. It felt good. Comfortable. I’d ignored and pushed away and beaten back the magenta that tried to fill the room whenever I was with him, but I knew it was there. It was always there, the same as it was when Jones came around me. How did I let things get to that point?
I couldn’t tell if he was the one who’d changed or if I was. Was he right? Had I started relying on him to do everything for me? It was impossible to tell.
And I hated that I was having to think about it in the first place.
It was so much easier to think about Shelby and how she could lead me to Luna. Which was saying something.
Shelby finally emerged, shoving through her front door with her hip, a cell phone to her ear. She was talking animatedly to whoever was on the other end—Luna, maybe?—and was wearing a nearly nonexistent black swimsuit covered with silver studs. The bottom half disappeared into a pair of white jeans, artfully ripped along the thighs and rolled up at the bottoms. She stumbled along in strappy crystal-embellished heels that winked in the streetlamps. Even her eyebrows twinkled in the lamplight. Clearly Shelby had shed her punk look for the wealthy glam baby that she was born to be. I curled my hands around the steering wheel. There was something about just looking at her that made me fill with murk. I could have hopped out of my car and plowed her face into the street.
Instead, I sank down in my seat, even though I was pretty sure Shelby Gray was way too into herself to notice someone watching her, and waited as she got into her car, pulled out, and left. I let her turn the corner before I followed.
Shelby drove the same way she did everything in life: like she was entitled to the road and everyone else needed to get out of her way. I could see her silhouette holding up her phone several times, as if she was texting. Or taking selfies. Knowing Shelby, she was doing both—texting selfies. She wove in and out of traffic carelessly, cutting off drivers and forcing them to swerve into other lanes and off the road. I hung back several car lengths—not because I was worried about her seeing me, but because I was worried she would kill me if I got too close.
We drove into the city, Shelby’s driving improving zero percent along the way, and when we pulled onto Sunset, I knew immediately where she was headed.
Blue Yonder. Where the fab went to party when they wanted to show off barely there, studded swimsuits and rhinestoned makeup.
She pulled into the parking lot and I slowed, trying to decide whether I would wait for her to come back out, or just go home. A car honked at me to keep moving, so I followed her, cursing out the jackass whose balls were on fire so bad that he couldn’t slow down for ten seconds.
Shelby whipped into a parking spot and took a solid minute to mess with her hair in the rearview mirror. She slathered lipstick on her mouth and finally got out. I decided I would wait for her to walk by, and then would leave. I had no interest in watching Shelby Gray be the center of fabulous for a whole night.
She went straight to the giant wooden doors, clicking along on her ridiculous heels, and I was just about to pull out when I saw someone join her. From my position, all I could see was the back of a small, frail-looking girl. Circle skirt and bikini top. Strappy heels just as ridiculous as Shelby’s. And long hair.
Long, blond, celebrity-luxurious hair.
I froze, my hands rooted in place on the steering wheel. My fingers had gone cold and tingly. The interior of my car lit up in gold fireworks. I slammed my car into park and picked up my phone. My thumb was poised over the keyboard, ready to text Chris, when I remembered that he didn’t want to be in my drama anymore. He wasn’t interested in whether or not I’d found Luna.
Even if I finally had.
AFTER SOME INTERNAL debating, I decided to go home before following Shelby up to the rooftop of the hotel that claimed Blue Yonder as one of its amenities. I definitely wasn’t going to blend in wearing the jeans and tee that I was wearing. But going home to change was going to cost me about an hour. I was counting on Shelby and Luna needing to be seen for at least longer than that.
I was pretty sure I could count on it.
I went home and raced up to my room. Dad called after me from his office, but I yelled back that I was only stopping in and would be home later. He said something in return, but I shut my door. I didn’t have time yet to deal with him. I may have been convinced that the Hollises were behind my mom’s murder, but that didn’t mean I was 100 percent convinced that he wasn’t also behind it. It seemed unlikely, given that Hollis obviously hated him. But maybe he was willing to do it to get back in Hollis’s good graces. Or to protect himself from the man who’d vowed revenge on him.
Regardless, he’d had so many chances to own up to his relationship with them—I’d questioned him directly, more than once. The fact that he was still hiding it gave me an inky feeling in my gut. Even if I could prove that Bill Hollis killed Mom and acted alone while doing so, would that erase the feeling of betrayal I had every time I thought of my dad now? Would it reverse my lack of trust in him?
I honestly didn’t know.
I didn’t have time to dwell on it now, anyway. Shelby and Luna were partying and the clock was ticking.