For his part, he plays it well, even walking the way Cormac does, purposeful and almost silent. Fortunately, they aren't built too differently. No one who hasn't seen them up close would notice the subtle differences in their height or the extra muscle Skyler carries.
"Mr. Fomori won't be taking any questions," I shout, keeping myself as a barrier between him and the media frenzy. "Back up. The second one of you touches him, we'll have you in court for harassment and assault."
I have just enough experience dealing with civil and criminalcourts to feel comfortable pretending to be an authority on the matter.
They continue their ceaseless shouting, snapping photos of us as we get closer, but fortunately, they all know well enough to keep their distance and not come in physical contact with either of us.
Skyler stalks between them, through the small space they left us to get through. I have to jog to keep up, following him across the street and into the parking garage. Reporters file behind us, completely honed in on their mission to getsomethingto take back to their editors.
But as long as neither one of us says anything, all they'll be able to say is that they got eyes on him. Hopefully, none of the photos they got put him in too vulnerable of a position. He looked lost, frozen against their assault. If I didn't know any better, I might have thought he was afraid of them.
"This way," Skyler tells me over his shoulder, picking up to a slow run. "He always parks in the same spot."
"Even now?" I ask.
His steps stutter for just a second before he catches himself and laughs, "Fuck. I guess we'll see."
I don't need to go with him. I could just peel off and head to my own car, get the hell out of here. But separating means one or both of us would be more vulnerable if they catch up.
Carrying heavy equipment and cameras has given them a slight disadvantage, letting us get into the elevator and close it before any of them can catch up.
Skyler pushes a button, "That won't keep them for long, they'll just use the stairs."
"But they won't know which level we're on, right?"
"Uhhh," he pauses. "I honestly don't know if the elevator shows it or not. I rarely drive."
Part of me wants to ask why, but this is a mostly walkable city, and cabs exist on every single corner. Not driving isn't really that odd. Whatisodd is that somehow a bunch of people suddenly got thescoop on where Cormac might be, only a few days after a cop asked me about it.
As the elevator stops and opens, Skyler walks forward, gesturing for me to do the same, keeping a fast pace but not quite running.
He laughs as we round the turn that goes up another half a level, "See?" He points to the black car. "Some things don't change."
I'm still just as surprised as the first time to see that Cormac drives something so... boring. I'm used to thinking of him as larger than life and impossible to miss. A simple base model of an SUV that has to be ten years old doesn't fit into the image I have of him.
The locks click undone as I walk closer, Skyler falling a few steps behind me to look for anyone who might be following us.
"Okay," I put my hands on the side of the car, hanging my head to catch my breath. It's not as if we ran much, but being followed by people and having to pretend to protect someone from them had my heart rate through the roof. "Seems like you'll be good. I'll umm, I'm up another level, so I'll keep heading up and hide in my car for a few minutes."
"Yeah," Skyler drawls, looking around one last time as he approaches the car. He peels off Cormac's hoodie, opening the passenger door to throw it inside.
Without warning, His hands land on my arm and shoulder, shoving me into the passenger seat casually, almost lazily. Without any apparent effort, he overpowers me, forcing me into the car despite my protests. Locking me into it with the remote, he strolls around to the driver's side as I'm frozen with fear, waiting for my body to keep up and react. Flee, fight, or fuckingsomething.
But his laid-back show of strength has me staying in my seat, knowing if I got out and tried to run, it would take him no effort at all to catch me.
He slides onto the seat, looking at me from the corner of his eye, "Put your seatbelt on."
Putting the key into the ignition, he starts the car, the rumbling of the engine adding to the sounds invading my senses. My heartpounding, the quiet music coming from the stereo, the click of Skyler's seatbelt.
On autopilot, I do as he says, fastening the belt and tugging to make sure it's secure.
Skyler pulls out of the stall, humming along to the music, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as if nothing is wrong here.
Yet I can't manage to take a single breath. I knew Skyler was capable of violence, obviously. I've seen it countless times over the years. But any time I've seen him outside of the ring, he's been all easy smiles and lacksadaisy.
Even now, his body is free of any tension, while I'm nothingbuttense.
"Relax," he laughs. "Jesus, you're fogging up the windows and we haven't even gotten out of the parking garage yet."
