Page 81 of Beyond Protection
Up close, I was checking out the available exits.
Ma grabbed my elbow before I made it past the gangway. "You're not wearing enough layers."
"I'm fine."
"That jacket's from Phoenix." She produced a scarf from her purse—thick, hand-knit, navy with flecks of green. "Arms up."
She wound it around my neck before I could protest. The yarn smelled like her house—coffee grounds and lavender. "There. Now you look like someone with sense."
Michael appeared, phone in hand, scanning the boarding queue. His eyes tracked every passenger, bracing for threats. "Security's in place," he said quietly. To Eamon, not me.
Eamon stood three feet away, drizzle beading on his jacket. He nodded once. Casual. Ready.
Two weeks until Christmas. One week until Vanessa's timeline ended.
We boarded. Barely controlled chaos spilled onto the boat—families claiming railing space, kids shrieking at gulls, and someone's Bluetooth speaker bleeding tinny pop. Red and green lights spiraled up the main mast.
Eamon stepped up beside me. "Four exits. Lifeboats on both sides. Crew's competent." He didn't look at me. "Michael checked them while Ma was suffocating you with knitwear."
I stroked the scarf's fringe. "It's not that bad."
He smiled briefly. "It's terrible. Keep it on."
The boat's horn blasted. We pulled away from the pier.
Ma found us near the bow. "You two look like you're expecting an ambush."
"Just admiring the view," I said.
She looked at me the way she'd been looking at me since I was ten. Full name coming. "Cormac."
"I'm fine, Ma."
"Uh-huh." She patted my cheek—too hard to be gentle. "Stay where I can see you."
Eamon's attention stayed on the water. "She's a McCabe. They all know."
"That we're—" I didn't have words for what we were.
"Yeah," Eamon said. "That."
One week left, and I was standing on a boat full of people I loved, next to a man I was falling for, while somewhere behind us, a woman with 847 photographs executed a countdown.
The brass ensemble started "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen."
Eamon looked at me. He gave a slight nod.
We're good for now.
Seattle opened up behind us like someone had split open a jewelry box. Every building downtown threw itself onto the water—mirrored and multiplied. The Space Needle blinked red at its crown.
I couldn't believe the city looked so peaceful this close to a deadline.
But it did.
The brass ensemble moved into "Silent Night." Ma hummed along. Michael filmed the skyline.
I watched Eamon instead of the view.
