Page 5 of Beyond Protection
"Okay," I said. "Give me the info before you call."
Michael nodded. Started to turn toward the stairs, then stopped.
"The last relationship. The one that ended badly. You going to tell me what happened there?"
The change of subject caught me off guard. "What does that—"
"Because whoever we bring in to protect you needs to know if there's a pattern. If you attract obsessive attention. If this is—"
"It's not." The words sounded defensive, even to me. "Derek loved the fame, not me. Loved being the boyfriend of the first openly gay MVP. When that got old, he moved on to someone with better Instagram metrics. That's not the same as this."
Michael studied me. "You sure?"
"Yeah." I was. Derek had been shallow but not dangerous. Not like this. "This is different."
"Okay." He nodded. "Get back to dinner. Try to be yourself. I'm calling him now."
He took the stairs two at a time.
I stood alone in the hallway, listening to his footsteps overhead and the murmur of his voice as he made calls.
He was looking for someone professional. Someone who dealt with threats for a living.
From the dining room, Ma's voice: "Mac, honey, you want coffee?"
I returned. Sliding into my chair, I smiled weakly. "Sorry. I'm good."
Ma squeezed my arm as she passed. Claire watched me from across the table. Marcus was telling a story about a restaurant fire.
Matthew nudged my arm. "You want the last of the potatoes?"
"No. You take them."
He scraped them onto his plate. Metal on ceramic, the sound setting my teeth on edge.
Keep it together. Just keep it together.
Above us, Michael's voice carried—muffled but urgent. I caught fragments: "...Seattle... credible threat... tonight if possible..."
Ma started clearing plates. Marcus stood to help. Miles had migrated to the living room. As the conversation wound down, people found other spaces to occupy. It was a familiar end to Thanksgiving dinner.
My phone stayed silent in my pocket. Heavy as a stone.
Michael's footsteps sounded on the stairs. He appeared in the doorway, caught my eye, and gave a single nod.
Ma came back with pie. "Apple or pumpkin?"
"Apple," I said automatically.
She cut a slice and set it in front of me. Steam rose from the crust. It looked perfect, but I couldn't taste it.
Michael sat down beside me, voice low. "Sent you the details. He can leave Portland in an hour. That would let him get here by midnight."
"That fast?"
"When I told him the situation, he didn't hesitate." Michael paused. "Eamon Price. I've used him before on sensitive cases. He's the best I know, Mac. If he says he'll keep you safe, he will."
"Okay."
