Page 39 of Beyond Protection
"Stay close. Don't run. Act normal."
The parking lot looked the same. Empty except for two fire trucks and Eamon's rental car.
The threats were in the cars on the street. Someone had been close enough to photograph us. They might still be close enough.
Watching.
Always watching.
His proximity is damaging. Removal scheduled.
Eamon opened the passenger door, hand on my shoulder, guiding me in. His eyes never stopped scanning.
He was in the driver's seat in seconds. Engine on. Pulling out.
"They knew about this place," I said. My voice was shaky. "How did they know about this place?"
"They followed us. From the house." His jaw was tight. "I checked for tails. I was careful. But they're good. Better than I thought."
"Removal scheduled." I couldn't stop hearing it. "Eamon, they're threatening you."
"I know."
"Because of me. Because you're—" My voice cracked. "Everyone I let get close ends up paying for it."
Eamon reached out and touched my thigh. Squeezed once. Hard enough to hurt.
"Stop," he said. The gentle tone was gone. "You don't get to make that decision for me."
"But—"
"No." He turned to look at me for just a second before his eyes went back to the road. "I'm not leaving because it's too dangerous. I'm not leaving because you think you're not worth the risk. I'm staying because you are worth it, and you're going to have to get used to that."
"You don't know—"
"I know enough." He tightened his grip on my thigh. "I know you've spent your whole life believing you have to be perfect to be worth keeping. I know you think anyone who gets close will leave once they see the real you. And I'm telling you right now: I already see you. The real you. The one who can't sleep. The one who pushes too hard because control is the only thingthat makes sense. The one who doesn't know how to accept care without calculating the debt."
I couldn't breathe.
"And I'm staying. You're not a burden, Mac. You're the point."
I grabbed my phone and called Michael. He answered on the first ring.
"We've got a problem," I said.
Eamon's knuckles were white on the wheel. His hand had moved back to the gearshift, but I still felt the imprint of his fingers on my body. His words echoed in my head:I already see you.
Nobody had ever said that to me before.
We pulled up to the house. Michael was already on the porch, phone to his ear, adopting the SWAT officer stance that meant business.
Eamon parked. Killed the engine. Sat there for a moment, breathing.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said finally. "We will adjust our tactics."
Michael rapped on the window. We got out.
Inside, Ma was in the kitchen with Marcus. Both looked up when we entered.
