Between our hectic schedules, we take what we can get—heated, breathless phone sex in the quiet hours before midnight, and eventually, two flawless nights at the lake house where politics couldn’t reach us.
Behind the scenes, I stay on top of the cyber forensics investigation. J.D. Stiles is worth every taxpayer dollar. When the final digital knot is unraveled, I’m called to Chief Murray’s office. The metadata from the anonymous email chain led Stiles and his team to an encrypted cloud server, which pointed directly to a dummy LLC registered in Hollis’s name. Digital fingerprints are like DNA. They don’t lie.
Working with the Indiana State Police, investigators executed a search warrant at Hollis’s home. Twenty-four hours later,The Bayside Heralddrops a grainy image of Hollis in handcuffs, arrested outside his residence. Serious charges are filed: felony non-consensual image distribution, election interference, and cyberstalking.
For the first time in weeks, the toxic fury beneath my skin clears. I don’t feel the urge to gloat. I just feel relief. Massive. Crushing. Relief.
I call Luna immediately.
“Hey,” she answers.
“They got him,” I say, leaning against the brick wall outside campaign headquarters.
“I saw. We’re issuing a press release. Just a thank-you to the mayor’s office and the police force for their efforts. That’s all I need. No celebration. No mudslinging.”
I track a boat pulling from the marina. “I agree. The less you say, the less attention it takes from your campaign.”
“It’s not just that. The arrest is satisfying. It’s a step toward justice. But emotionally, I’m over it. I don’t care about Hollis.” I can hear the relief and certainty in her voice. “His family and friends are maintaining his innocence. I’m sure he will too. The courts will decide it. Until then, I have an election to win.” Her tone lightens. “Looks like you’re in trouble, Mr. Strategist. We’re almost neck and neck.”
I grin at her cocky confidence and look down the boardwalk, wishing I could walk those ten doors to her.
“So what are you and my dad going to bond over now?” she asks.
“Good whiskey. I sent him a bottle he really liked.”
“I love that you two are becoming besties.” I hear the happiness in her voice, then she adds. “Don’t think, I don’t know you were behind convincing Diablo to hire the cyber specialist.”
“It was a campaign decision. Election tampering is a crime.”
“Mhm. I see you, DK. Working both sides all smooth and shit. Thank you, boo.”
I let my silence answer. I don’t need the recognition. I did what was right for Luna without ever compromising my job or Diablo. I didn’t do it because she needed to take her power back. She’d already done that for herself. This was justice for the woman I love. And I would do it a hundred times over again.
Chapter Fifty-One
Rayne
The second Sunday in September, I stand between Lot and my dad, watching Lexie walk down the aisle.
“She looks beautiful,” I whisper to no one in particular. Just facts.
The music swells with a wedding song Chaz wrote for his bride—an instrumental acoustic ballad that floats through the speakers, even more poignant without words.
A mild breeze rolls off Lake Michigan, carrying the promise of autumn across the dunes. On the shore, an intimate gathering of family and friends is here to celebrate. Lexie crosses the long strip of white carpet cutting a pristine path through the sand, stunning in pearl chiffon and lace with a short, rounded train, her baby bump starting to show. She walks alone, a testament to the independence she’s earned.
Chaz stands at the driftwood arch that’s decorated with dahlias. He’s wearing an ivory suit with a pink boutonniere. His fro is immaculate, dimples glinting in the sun. Dice stands beside him, handsome as ever, eyes a little misty. Sophia’s areliterally flowing like a fountain. Lexie’s best friends, Dee and Jordyn, are glowing in their dusky rose dresses.
We take our seats when Chaz reaches for Lexie’s hand, drawing her beneath the archway. As the officiant performs the ceremony, the couple grins at each other, blissfully happy. Watching Chaz look at Lexie like she hung the damn moon has me blinking back my own tears.
After dinner, the reception is in full swing. Dice plays a set, bringing the house down. Lot and I dance like it’s going out of style. I love having her here, even if only for a few days. Sophia joins us, and the three of us get low when Dice drops a sick beat, hiking up our hems and dropping our asses, feet twisting in the sand. It feels good to cut loose after the last few weeks.
All the guests show out for the “Cha-Cha Slide,” and Lot and I eventually step off the crowded dance floor, breathless and laughing, to grab fresh glasses of champagne. As the high-energy beat fades, a soft R&B melody takes over, and Dice announces the bride and groom’s first official slow dance.
Chaz pulls Lexie into his arms, and we all watch them sway against the backdrop of the darkening sky.
A familiar longing squeezes tightly inside my chest. I look down at my hands, wishing my fingers were woven through DK’s, wishing we could step into the light and dance like this without a care in the world.
“You okay, Ray?” Lot asks, her eyes picking up on the sudden shift in my face.
