Page 28 of Beyond Protection
"But you're keeping me here."
"I'm keeping you where you can breathe." I looked at him. "Fear makes mistakes. You need to be somewhere you can think clearly."
"And you?" Mac asked. "You need that too."
It wasn't a question.
He was right. The condo's sterile perfection would've made me worse—every surface a reminder of control I couldn't maintain, every silence an opportunity for my thoughts to spiral.
Here, with the noise and the chaos and the people who interrupted before you could disappear too far into your own head—
Here I could do my job.
"Yeah," I said. "I do."
The want I'd seen earlier returned to Mac's gaze, banked but present. He didn't try to hide it.
"Good," he said quietly. "Then we're both where we need to be."
The front door opened. Ma, backlit and already talking.
"There you are! I was about to send Michael out looking. Did you stop for groceries like I asked? No? Well, come in anyway, you'll freeze out there. Eamon, Marcus wants to talk to you about the basement window, says you'll know what he means. Mac, sweetheart, you look exhausted. Dinner's in twenty minutes. Go wash up."
She disappeared back inside.
Mac and I looked at each other.
"Twenty minutes," he said.
"Better move fast."
"She means ten."
"I know."
Neither of us moved.
Then Mac smiled—that real one again—and climbed the steps. Held the door open. Waited.
I followed him into the warmth, light, and noise.
Into the vulnerable house with forty years of love holding it together.
And I thought:We can make this work. We can keep him safe here.
Not perfect. Not without risk.
But safe enough.
For both of us.
Chapter five
Mac
The glow-in-the-dark stars were fading.
I'd counted them twice since midnight—forty-three total, arranged in constellations. Michael stuck them up there when he was twelve.
