Page 56 of Beyond Protection
"She was there. At the ceramic stall. Watching me buy—" My throat closed. "She watched me buy something for my mom and then she—"
"We move now. We don't show them panic. We give them boring. Can you do that?"
Could I? I'd been performing my entire life. Smiling through interviews where they asked if I was sure about being gay, if it was only a phase. Smiling through locker rooms that went quiet when I walked in. Smiling through ex-boyfriends who loved the Instagram stories more than they loved me.
I knew I could perform, even when my hands were trembling.
"Yeah," I managed. "Yeah, I can do that."
"Good." He released my wrist. The loss of contact felt like freefall. "Stay close. We're heading back to the car—normal pace.I'll be scanning, but I need you to keep your eyes forward. Don't look for them. That's my job."
We started walking. Eamon moved like nothing was wrong. Casual. Confident. A guy finishing a market visit with a friend.
I tried to match his energy. Tried to keep my breathing even and my pace calm.
The crowd thickened. Every face could be one of them.
Woman with the shopping bag—too close, turning to look—
Guy checking his phone by the fish counter—
Couple taking photos, camera pointed our direction—
Eamon's hand brushed my spine. Pressure. Direction. Keep moving.
Holiday music blared from somewhere. "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town." Someone laughed.
Ordinary. Everything looked so completely fucking ordinary.
We passed under the arch, back onto the street. The car was two blocks up. Eamon had parked it in a garage—covered and secured. Smart. Professional.
We reached the garage. Took the elevator up instead of the stairs—enclosed space, security cameras, Eamon positioned between me and the doors. His hand had drifted toward his jacket again.
The elevator dinged. Doors slid open.
Our car sat exactly where we'd left it. Nobody nearby. No notes on the windshield. No signs of tampering.
Eamon checked anyway. Walked the perimeter, looked under the chassis, and inspected the door seals. Methodical. Thorough.
I stood there shaking and watched him make sure my car wouldn't explode.
This was my life now.
He unlocked it remotely, opened my door first, and waited until I was inside before circling to the driver's side.
Eamon pulled out his phone and started typing rapidly. Updates to Michael, probably. Threat escalation. New timeline implications. All the tactical language meant someone wanted to hurt me, and we were running out of time to stop them.
"For a second," I said quietly, "I forgot they existed."
Eamon's typing paused.
"That's what makes it dangerous," he said.
"Or human."
He looked at me. The phone screen cast shadows under his eyes, making him look older. Tired.
"You can't afford human right now," he said.
