2. Sean #2
The plan forms faster than I expect. I think we’ve all been waiting for something to matter this much again.
Wesley grabs his tablet and starts tapping.
“We can install perimeter surveillance at your house in under forty-eight hours. Noninvasive. Motion-triggered. Nothing bulky enough to spook your kids.”
“I want interior cams too,” Bailey says. “Just in the main living areas. And one in their room—but turned off unless I activate it manually.”
“You got it.” He doesn’t even look up.
Huck grunts. “Security on set?”
Bailey nods. “I’m not on location right now. Most of my work’s in town for now. One soundstage, one off-site location, shoot on Fridays. My team doesn’t know anything’s wrong, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as we can.”
“We’ll shadow discreetly. You can tell them we’re doing a fluff piece on you, if you like.
But depending on how long this lasts, they’ll start asking questions,” I say.
“Wes can handle the tech. Huck and I rotate physical coverage, depending on the risk level. We’ll keep your schedule tight and predictable, with backup exits in every building. ”
She blinks. “You already thought this through.”
“It’s my job to think things through.”
But it’s more than that. It’s the way she sits with one hand still curled into a fist in her lap. It’s the line of tension running down her spine, despite the drop in her shoulders. The faint twitch in her jaw every time she says ex-husband.
Bailey presses her palms flat on the table. “He’s smart. That’s the worst part. He knows where the line is. He’ll get close to it, press against it, and pull back before I can scream.”
“That’s fine. We’re smarter. And we don’t need a threat to be loud to treat it like one.”
Huck leans back in his chair. “What’s your custody arrangement again?”
“I have them Monday through Friday. He gets every other weekend.”
“You want one of us posted at his place during pickups?”
“No.” Her voice is immediate. Fierce. “I don’t want the kids seeing that.”
“Not even in an unmarked vehicle across the street?” I ask carefully.
She hesitates. “I don’t want them afraid of their father,” she says finally. “They adore him. He’s never been anything but perfect with them. It’s just…with me, when no one’s looking…”
She trails off. We all know the type. Men who put on the performance of a lifetime for everyone but the woman they promised to love.
“Understood.”
There’s a moment of silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Just loaded. Like the quiet before a mine goes off. Wes closes his tablet. “I’ll start drawing up a schedule and vendor list. Want me to ping our legal contact too?”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Start the paperwork. I want a private security contract in her inbox before noon.”
Wes nods and stands. “I’ll loop back in an hour.” He offers Bailey a two-finger salute and slips out. Huck follows, giving Bailey’s shoulder a warm, solid pat before heading after Wes. When the door shuts behind them, the air shifts.
Just me and her now. Her perfume’s different these days. Less sugar, more strength. She doesn’t speak right away. Just studies me like she’s trying to line up this version of me with the boy she used to know.
I stare back.
She’s different too. Not just older. There’s something steelier in her now. Sharper. But the curve of her cheek is the same. The dip of her collarbone. The tiny freckle under her left eye I used to call her star.
“You named the company Orion,” she says finally.
“Yeah.”
“That’s…poetic.”
I shrug. “We were kids. You used to talk about stars like they were yours.”
“You used to talk about control like it would save you.”
Not wrong.
She tilts her head, lips twitching. “I always thought you were the safest place I knew.”
Her words hit deep. There’s so much I want to say, but I feel like an asshole. I shouldn’t be tempted. She’s a client. She’s in pain. Flirting, even the mildest kind, would be inappropriate.
So, I nod once. Keep it professional. “I’ll do my best to live up to that memory.”
I walk her through the building the back way, just like she requested. Chief’s already cleared the stairwell and propped the emergency exit with a coded wedge. Bailey pulls her sunglasses from her purse and slips them on like armor.
She walks like she’s on a runway. Chin up. Shoulders set. But I can tell. Her body’s wound tight, like her skin is waiting for impact.
“I’ll email you the contract within the hour,” I say as we reach the door. “Once we’re signed, we’ll be in place immediately.”
She nods, not looking at me.
“You’re not alone anymore, Bailey.”
That gets her. Her lips part like she might say something. But nothing comes.
Then she leans in, and her arms loop around my neck, and for a second, I’m seventeen again, holding her on a rooftop with nothing between us but shared breath and the glow of distant stars.
Then it’s gone.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and she walks out into the morning sun. One star shining on another.
I stand there longer than I should, watching the sidewalk like she might come back. She doesn’t. The second her car door clicks shut, I’m moving.
I loop back to my office, already issuing orders over comms. Surveillance. Recon. Legal. By the time I sit at my desk, my pulse is steady. My jaw’s locked. Every instinct I have is burning.
Wes sticks his head in. “You good?”
“Get me everything on David Oswalt. Quietly.”
He arches a brow. “Don’t insult me. You know I’m already on it.” He disappears again.
I lean back, staring up at the constellation painted on my wall. Orion. The hunter. The protector. The boy I used to be thought the stars could save us. But it’s not the stars that’ll do it now.
It’s me. I won’t lose what matters. Not again.