Page 73 of Beyond Protection
Ma set down her mug with a decisive clink. "The Christmas boat cruise is on Friday. We're all going."
Eamon froze at the sink. "No."
"Excuse me?" Ma's voice could cut glass.
"With Kensington out there, testing doors, escalating—" He turned to face the room. Shoulders tight. "Putting Mac on a boat in the middle of Elliott Bay, surrounded by crowds, limited exits—it's tactically insane."
"It's Christmas," Ma said. "It's tradition."
"It's a security nightmare."
Marcus straightened. "He's not wrong, Ma. We don't even know where she is. She could be anywhere. Waiting for precisely this kind of opportunity."
"So we hide?" Ma's voice sharpened. "Lock ourselves in this house? Let her take Christmas from us?"
"It's not about hiding," Eamon said carefully. "It's about keeping Mac alive."
"By making him a prisoner?" Ma didn't back down. "That's not living. That's… not dying yet. And I didn't raise these boys to settle for not dying yet."
"You're asking me to secure a public event on a moving vessel with unauthorized access points and zero control over who gets on that boat." A flush crept up Eamon's neck. "I can't guarantee his safety."
"You can't guarantee it here either," Marcus pointed out. "She already tried the door."
"Which is exactly why—"
"I want to go," I said.
Everyone stopped. Turned to look at me.
Eamon's jaw tensed.
"I've been hiding since I got here." I stood. "Except for one trip to the Roastery and the market—and look how that turned out. I'm not leaving the house. Not living my life. I'm existing until she decides to move." I paused. "I'm done with that."
"This isn't about pride," Eamon said.
"No. It's about living." I looked at him. "She said two weeks. That's her timeline. She's not moving on Friday."
"You don't know that."
"Neither do you." I softened my voice. Took a step toward him. "I know it's dangerous. I know she could be there. But I can't—" I stopped. Started again. "I've been hiding my whole life." I looked at him. "Different reasons. Same result. I'm just—I'm done with that."
The kitchen went quiet.
"I want Christmas with my family," I said. "On that boat. Even if it's scary." I looked directly at him. "Especially because it's scary. I want to do it anyway. With you."
Ma smiled into her tea.
Eamon gripped the edge of the sink. Knuckles white.
"Friday," he said finally. Voice rough. "But we do this my way: security protocols, no exceptions. You stay in the center of the group. You don't wander off. Anything feels wrong, we leave immediately."
"Deal."
"I'm serious, Mac. First sign of trouble—"
"We leave. I got it." I moved closer. Dropped my voice below the family noise. "I trust you."
His expression shifted. Something raw flickered across his face before the professional mask slid back.
