Already breaking into a jog, I search frantically for the sign Mo referred to. "Is he going through?"
"No," Mo says. "He's sitting with his luggage. Waiting like we thought he'd be."
"Stay back," I say. "Don't let him see you."
"I'm watching from a safe distance," Mo says. "I know I wasn't a soldier like the rest of you guys, but I'm not an idiot."
"I can see you. Call Hudson," I say.
Mo begins to tap away on his phone as I jog around a large family, all dragging extra huge suitcases. I catch the tail end of Mo telling Hudson where Marcus is, and I'm already scanning to find him among all the tourists.
"Can you see him?" Mo says, his arm pointing further than the bank of chairs I'm looking at. When I raise my line of sight, I spot him immediately.
"Fucker," I mutter under my breath, and Mo places a hand on my arm as I go to stride forward.
"Just remember the point of this is getting Marcus out of this airport."
"I know," I say. "I just really want to kick the shit out of him before we hand him over. We're not going to get another chance."
"The man is disturbed," Mo says. "I know you're angry because I am too. I hate what he's done to our girl, but there is obviously something very mentally wrong with him. No sane man goes around stealing and slashing up people's underwear or lacing their water with chemicals."
Hearing Mo's point isn't easy. I'm raging, wanting to tear this man's arms off for scaring Luna and separate his head from his body for hurting her. But that isn't going to help anything. Getting him off the streets is what we need to do.
"I've called Connor to tell him we've found him," Hudson says as he comes to a standstill to the right of Mo. "He said there's a warrant out for Marcus’s arrest. We need to find a cop and notify them."
"No way. I want the pleasure of dealing with this asshole myself."
"And what are we going to do? Call a fucking Uber to deliver him to the police station?"
"Look, there's some armed police over there." Mo points to where two armed officers are patrolling, their huge weapons in their hand but pointed safely at the ground. "Asher, you go. If they see me running toward them, I'm likely to get a bullet through my head. Hudson, let’s go and grab Marcus. I’m ready to get my arm around this asshole’s neck and squeeze until his eyes bulge."
“I’m ready to make him squeal like a pig, but we need to act with reasonable force.”
I'm off before they can say anything else, jogging toward the cops, my eyes on Marcus in case he makes a move.
"Officer," I say.
Both cops pause and turn, their hands gripping their weapons. "There is a man in this terminal who has a warrant out for his arrest. He's over there." I point to Marcus, who's currently rooting around in his bag for something, completely unaware of what's going on. "He's responsible for stalking the singer, Luna Evans. I'm one of her bodyguards. I've come here to prevent him from getting on a plane and escaping justice.” I hold out my ID card for Steel 7 Security.
"What's his name?" the cop nearest me asks, eyeing me suspiciously. I don't blame him. I'm not dressed like a security guard. My clothes are crumpled from lying scrunched on Luna's carpet. My hair hasn't been brushed, and I have more than a little stubble on my cheeks.
"Marcus Johnson."
The cop begins to speak on his radio, asking for verification of the warrant. When it comes through, he nods at me. "Stay back," he says. "I'm going to call for backup." As the cop radios his colleagues, Marcus begins to glance around. Hudson and Mo have been careful, though. They remain out of sight until they’re on top of him, Hudson grabbing him in a headlock that squashes his throat so hard that his attempt to scream ends up a pathetic wheeze.
"My team have got him," I say, just as backup arrives. From then, things move fast. Hudson hauls Marcus toward the cops, getting a few hard digs into his ribs as on the way. Mo’s there too, kicking Marcus sharply in the knee when he struggles by flailing his legs.
The cops have Marcus in handcuffs so quickly, confirming his identity with his passport that Mo hands over.
The satisfaction is immense, particularly because Marcus’ pathetic attempts at struggle disappear at the sight of so many cops in bulletproof vests holding riffles. Not such a big man now.
Connor and Jax make it just in time to see Marcus being led away to a waiting car. When we're reunited, there is back-slapping and bro hugs as we deal with the relief that it's all over and Luna is safe.
After, when the jubilation has settled, Connor sighs. "You know, while she's in the limelight, there will be others."
"But she'll have us to deal with it," I remind him. “There will never be a time when at least one of us won’t be there to protect our girl.”
Later, when we've made our way back to the hotel, we find Luna resting safely between Elijah and Ben. With her hair spread across the pillow, she looks so perfect. We decide not to wake them, even though all of us want to get close to our girl. There's no rush now. Just a long future together, and many more nights to look forward to as we walk together as a family.
This relationship might have started in an unconventional way. A scribbled sketch under the Athens sunshine was the catalyst to bring us all together. It might be unconventional in its form too; seven men and one woman isn’t the most obvious relationship construction.
But for the first time in a long time, I feel at peace.
Before I leave the room, I search around in my pocket for the gift I bought Luna on the way back. It’s a pretty gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. I want her to always remember this day for something positive. And for every day that follows to eclipse the next in perfection.
EPILOGUE
LUNA
"So tell me again what they're going to expect from us?" Connor says, frowning as he pours me a huge glass of milk. I swear, these guys think I'm growing a football team in my uterus, not one single tiny baby girl.
"They want to follow us around, film our day-to-day lives. It'll kind of be like a reality show that has lots of planning beforehand. Obviously, Blueday wants to ensure that everything that gets aired paints us in a favorable light." I take a sip of the cool milk, then reach for the cookie jar. Before I can overstretch, Jax is pushing it across the table toward me.
Not for the first time. I'm thankful that there's no one breathing down my neck about staying in shape and living off avocados and grilled chicken. If anything, my men are happy to see me putting some meat on my bones. They think about my health first, then the health of the baby. My image comes way down the line, which is fine. Every picture of me that gets officially published is airbrushed into a work of fiction anyway.
And they all like me a little juicier than I used to be.
"And you say that there's already been a show like this?"
"Yeah. The production company for ours is the same one that filmed that show about the McGreggors. Don't you remember it? Laura and her harem of ten men? It was called McGreggors Uncovered."