Page 60 of Beyond Protection
"I was scanning wrong," I said. "Watching for cameras, for someone stationary. She was mobile. Blended with the crowd movement."
"That's the excuse?"
"No. That's the failure."
Silence. Luna whined softly from under the table.
"Is he hurt?" Michael asked finally.
"Physically? No. She bumped him. No bruising, no injury."
"That's not what I asked."
I thought about Mac's face in the car. His shaky hands. "He's scared," I said. "And I made it worse. Proved she can get close whenever she wants."
Michael stood. Walked to the window. Stood there looking out at the rain for a long moment.
"He texted me," Michael said quietly. "Right after. Asked if I could stay with Ma and him tonight. Didn't say why, just—" He turned.
"Mac doesn't ask for help. Ever. You know how hard his mother trained him to handle things himself."
I did know. I'd watched Mac deflect concern with jokes and watched him perform confidence he didn't feel.
"He's terrified," Michael continued. "Someone he can't see has been watching him for eighteen months. Documenting him like a fucking science project. And today she proved she can reach out and touch him anytime she wants."
"I know."
"Do you?" Michael's voice sharpened. "Because you left. Drove three hours south while he's at Ma's house, trying to convince himself he's safe. You're his bodyguard, Eamon. Your job is to be there."
"Marcus is there."
"Marcus isn't who he needs." Michael held my gaze. "You know that."
The accusation hung between us.
"I can't protect him properly when I'm compromised," I said finally. "Today proved that. I was thinking about—" I stopped. "About him. Not the threat."
Michael's expression shifted. Understanding replacing anger. "Yeah. That's what I thought."
Alex cleared his throat. "Maybe we focus on finding her before the debate about who stays where becomes moot?"
Michael nodded slowly. Returned to the table. But his eyes stayed on me—assessing, calculating.
"When you go back," he said, "you tell him what happened. No professional distance bullshit. He deserves to know why you missed her."
"That would be—"
"Honest. It would be honest." Michael leaned forward. "Mac's spent his entire life having people want the symbol instead of the person. Don't be another one who treats him like he's not worth the truth."
I didn't respond. Couldn't.
Luna emerged from under the table. Pressed her nose to my knee.
Michael watched the dog. Watched me. "Luna doesn't trust easily. Mac doesn't either. You want to know why she bumping into him rattled me so bad? Because someone violated his space. His body. And for someone who's had to perform every public interaction for years—someone who treats his own physical presence like a carefully managed resource—that's not just scary. It's intimate violence."
"I know."
"Then act like you know." Michael's voice turned slightly more gentle. "Find her. Before she does worse than bump into him."
