He looked at the window, then back at the phone.
“They were too close.” His voice had gone flat. “They waited until the window worked for them.”
“They weren’t threatening me, Nick,” I said.
His eyes came back to mine, hard and flat.
“They sent it to me because they wanted you looking at me instead of them,” I continued. “This isn’t a privacy breach. It’s leverage. They’ve been watching us. They know where you’ve been spending your nights, and they know exactly how to make you look over your shoulder.”
Nick didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The silence gave me everything he refused to say. I was a vulnerability he hadn’t accounted for. Worse, I was one he wanted.
He stepped back. One foot. Two.
“This becomes a security matter,” he said.
“It already was,” I snapped. “Don’t start talking to me like I’m a guest who found a spider in her vanity. I am evidence. They made sure I was the one holding the threat.”
He ignored the bite in my tone. He was already reaching for the radio at his shoulder.
“Daniel, come in,” he said. His voice was clipped, devoid of anything but the mission. “I need a hard sweep of the western utility perimeter. Check the leadwood at ten o'clock from the library window. I want camera logs from the last hour, exterior and service corridors. Now.”
The radio crackled back, Daniel’s voice tight with questions he knew better than to ask. Nick answered in commands.
“Shift patrol patterns,” Nick continued. “Two-man teams. No one moves alone. Secure the library wing. I’m moving Wilder to the main lodge inner perimeter.”
Wilder.
My last name landed like a hand to the sternum. Five minutes ago, he had been a man fighting himself. Now he was a man building a perimeter around the fight.
“You’re leaving on the first cleared transfer,” Nick said, setting the radio down.
“I gave up my seat, Nick. There are people here with tighter connections and fewer options.”
“I don’t care about their connections,” he cut me off, his eyes finally locking onto mine with a ferocity that made my throat go still. “You’re leaving. Tomorrow morning. Dawn. I don't care if I have to put you on a supply plane to Jo’burg myself.”
“Because I’m a distraction?” I asked.
“Because you’re a target.”
“Don’t confuse removing me from the room with removing the problem,” I said, stepping toward him, refusing to let the distance stand. “You think if I’m gone, the people in the bush will just pack up and leave? They have proof there is a way past you. Sending me away doesn't erase the fact that they found the weak point.”
“It reduces the exposure,” he said. He wasn't yelling. He was getting quieter, which was infinitely worse. It was the sound of a man who had already made the decision and was now just enforcing the physics of it.
“Incorrect,” I said.
He went still.
“I'm the person who received the threat.
Me, Nick. Not you.
I'm the one holding the message.
And I know enough about crisis behavior to recognize the difference between protecting me and managing your own panic.”
I held his stare. “You’re protecting me. You’re also trying to control the part of this that made you feel exposed.”
“I’m keeping you alive,” he rasped.
