As we stepped out into the fall sunshine, I turned to check the expression on Damon’s face, having noticed he was a little quiet. He looked stoic and contemplative as usual, his dark brow furrowed and those oceanic eyes nearly fathomless. I nudged his shoulder with mine gently, and he seemed to shake himself off a little, reluctantly meeting my gaze. I gave him a sympathetic smile and cocked my head to one side.

“Hey, what’s the matter? I told you, everything is okay. I’m fine. I’m not worried about this stuff. I have you by my side. Nobody can mess with me,” I assured him.

“That’s good. I’m glad,” he said, his words a little clipped, as though he was just going through the motions of saying them while his mind was elsewhere.

“Come on, give it up. I can tell something else is bothering you,” I said, lowering my voice. “Is it the police captain? Or being in the precinct again?”

“I suppose,” Damon answered unhelpfully.

I almost chuckled at how stubborn he was. Mind like a vise grip, this guy.

“Is that the same captain who kind of pushed you out of the force and into early retirement?” I asked. I could tell by the glowering look on his face that I was right on the money.

“Yeah. The very same,” he admitted gruffly as we stepped closer to the curb. He raised his hand to hail a cab, as the limo driver was still in the precinct giving his statement and sharing info. Besides, I wasn’t about to make the guy continue driving us around town after such a traumatic event. Sure, it probably wasn’t his first car accident, but it was almost certainly the first time his limo had ever been hit on purpose.

“Well, are you alright? You held it together really well in there,” I remarked. Damon finally relented a little and squeezed my hand, nodding.

“I’m fine. Really. I just… I don’t particularly want to talk about the captain. I prefer not to think back on my past here at the precinct. That part of my life is over. End of story,” he said.

A taxi driver gave Damon a nod and slowly pulled over to the curb to let us in. Damon opened the back side door and gestured for me to slide in first. I climbed into the backseat and Damon scooted in beside me, closing the door and then leaning forward to give the driver my address. The driver responded with a typical New York cabbie grunt of understanding, and the cab started rolling down the busy road.

“Sorry to bring it up again,” I said quietly, resuming our conversation. “I didn’t mean to shake up old feelings or anything.”

Damon shrugged good-naturedly. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. But right now, my tiff with an old boss doesn’t matter. What’s important now is that we pin down who is responsible for all these assaults on your life,” he pointed out, artfully changing the subject.

“Fair enough,” I sighed. “Any ideas? Because I’m starting to get a little paranoid. I’ve never been an overly suspicious person, and I like to think that most people are good. But it’s hard to keep thinking that way when I’ve now been attacked on three separate occasions. Whoever’s pulling the strings must have enormous reach. New York and London.”

“Oh yeah. I have a pretty damn solid idea of who’s behind all this, actually,” he replied, his tone souring. I frowned.

“Who? Do tell,” I said.

“Barry Atelier,” he answered matter-of-factly. “He’s got to be the one behind the attacks and the attempted kidnapping and the SUV strike.”

I snorted. “Barry? No. Definitely not.”

But Damon looked dead set on his hypothesis. “Think about it, Jamie. He knew you were about to unveil your nanopores system at the London expo, so he tried to have you kidnapped to prevent that. He sees you as his main competitor, obviously. When that attack failed, he tried again at the expo. And when I intercepted that attempt, you were able to show the world your work successfully--”

“Well, my junior exec did,” I sighed. “I’m still a little bitter I didn’t get to do it myself.”

“I’m sorry you missed it, but to Barry it doesn’t make a difference who showed the presentation. What he wanted was to prevent the presentation from happening altogether. He failed again, though, and now your work is out there in the world. Things quieted down for a little while after the expo, remember? Because your presentation already happened, and kidnapping you couldn’t undo all that. So he held off for a while,” Damon explained.

“But then how do you explain what happened today?” I pressed him, unconvinced.

“Easy. Barry found out about your invitation to Oakview. He saw you as close competition again. He wanted to stop you from meeting with Mayor Wade,” he said. “It’s a pattern. Every single time you get a new opportunity that might push you above Barry, he retaliates in some way.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, Damon. I don’t mean to undermine you since this is definitely more your area of expertise than mine, but...I just don’t see it. Barry Atelier is a tool, for sure. I won’t deny that. He’s obnoxious and greedy and selfish, but a criminal conspiring to kidnap or kill me? That’s just a little too violent for him. Besides, he and I are both in the same race here: to develop tech to better the world. We’re on the same team, at the end of the day,” I said.

Damon gave me an almost pitying look that ruffled my feathers a little. I didn’t want him to think I was naive. He replied, “You may see it that way because you’re a good man with good intentions, but Barry isn’t in this industry for the same reasons you are. He’s clearly not in this for altruistic reasons. He wants the money. And right now, he views you as the main obstacle between him and that big bag of cash. You said it yourself. He’s greedy. Don’t underestimate the power of greed to corrupt.”

I thought it over, trying to see the situation from Damon’s point of view, but it was still all so farfetched to me. Barry Atelier, contract kidnapper or, even worse, contract killer? It just seemed so out of left field. We were just a couple of nerds in the tech industry, not rival mafia bosses. But Damon seemed utterly persuaded. I decided it wasn’t worth the argument. There were lots of things I’d rather do with Damon than debate over this. So I gave in.

“Okay. Sure. I’ll keep an open mind about it,” I conceded. “I can’t see Barry being behind all this, but if you’re so sure…”

“Trust me. I am,” Damon answered confidently.

“This the right building?” interrupted the cab driver, glancing back at us in the rearview mirror.

I realized with a jolt that we were already back at my place.

“Yes, sir. This is correct,” Damon said. “What do I owe you?”

Just then, my phone started ringing before the driver could even answer. Damon was about to take out some cash to pay the fare while I answered my phone.

“This is Davenport,” I said.

“Jamie, it’s Susan. Thank god you picked up,” she said quickly. “Where are you right now? Are you safe?”

“Yes, yes. Of course, I’m safe. Why? What’s going on, Susan?” I asked, confused. Damon turned around to look at me quizzically, picking up on the tone shift in my voice.

“There’s been a break-in over at the laboratory headquarters. Your lab, specifically,” she clarified with a sigh. “Is Damon with you?”

“Yes, he’s right here,” I answered.

“Good. I don’t know what you have planned for the day, but you’ll want to head over to the lab and check things out. The security team is already there processing the scene, but I wanted to give you a heads-up,” she explained.

I looked up at the driver, who was waiting expectantly, and said, “Change of plans. We have a second location. My apologies.”

I gave him the address of the lab headquarters, and we made our way across town. I passed the phone to Damon so that Susan could give him a rundown of the situation. It didn’t take long for us to arrive on the scene, and I all but jumped out of the cab as it rolled to a stop. Damon hastily paid and thanked the driver, then took off after me.

One of the security guards met us at the back entrance and escorted us upstairs to the lab where my prototype was being tinkered with and reworked for commercial patent. My head lab technician, Dr. Ashcroft, came rushing to me looking absolutely distraught. He was wringing his hands, those droopy dark eyes filled with regret.

“Mr. Davenport! I’m so sorry. I-I don’t understand how this could have happened,” he burst out, shaking his head. “It was here, I swear. And I locked up the way I always do. I’m so cautious, always so cautious…”

“I know, Doctor. I know. I don’t blame you in the slightest,” I assured him, patting the older man on the shoulder. He nodded, looking completely downtrodden.

“What happened here?” Damon asked the security guards, who were hovering by the doorway sheepishly. The two of them exchanged nervous expressions.

“Truth be told, sir, we’re not sure,” answered one of them meekly.

Damon tore into them, giving them a long, bitter lecture about how to do their jobs. I winced, hating having to see such conflict unfold in my lab. But at the same time, I knew Damon was right. My security was too lax. It always had been. I never really worried too much about safety. I supposed maybe I was too trusting, too optimistic in my expectations of others. But I never saw this coming. And clearly, neither did my security team.

Meanwhile, Dr. Ashcroft was lamenting to me, “The prototype is gone, sir. Whoever broke in here just up and snatched it. All those hours of work, all that research, all our hopes and dreams-- gone, in a flash. I can’t wrap my head around it.”

I smiled graciously at him. “Don’t worry. It’s not the end of the world. The prototype here was not the most updated version. It was a sort of test kit, if you will. The bespoke tech is still in my private workshop at home, safely locked up. I can have the newer prototype brought to you for further testing once the dust settles from this break-in, alright?”

He looked like he might melt with relief. “Oh. Oh, thank god,” he groaned, swiping a hand over his balding head.

“It’ll all work out,” I told him cheerily. I turned to Damon, who had overheard my conversation and was looking at me in mild surprise and just maybe the tiniest hint of awe.

We finished up at the scene and took another cab back to my place, my heart pounding. I had put on a brave face for the doctor and security team, but truthfully, my paranoia was finally starting to bleed into my logic. What if someone had gotten into my workshop somehow, too?

When we got to my apartment, we rushed up to the second floor and down a long, narrow hallway, Damon following behind me. He was poised for a fight, I noticed, his arms tensing and his hands curling into fists. We stepped up to the nondescript door with a black box on the wall beside it. I calmly pressed the button at the top of the box to make the flat interface light up with green-lit digital text. There was a rectangle in the dead center of the box, lit up.

“Damn. This is some space-age shit,” Damon noted, clearly impressed.

I chuckled. “It’s just biometrics. Nothing too fancy.” I lifted my hand and pressed my thumb against the rectangle, where it was scanned by a series of thin red lines. Once the scan was complete, the box emitted a high-pitched, brief beep to confirm my identity. The superficial layer of the box slid down slightly so that I could take out the little key hidden behind it.

“Wow,” Damon murmured as I fit the key in the door and it popped open.

I smiled back at him over my shoulder as I led him through. The lights fluttered on the doorway and another high-pitched beep started screeching.

“Come on, move faster. That sound is so annoying,” I said. The two of us strode down the short hallway to a second door, where I had to look up at a mirrored camera jutting out of the corner where the wall met the ceiling, just beside the top of the doorway.

“Look up,” I said, pointing to the camera. “But don’t say a word.”

Damon nodded. I cleared my throat and said, “James Davenport and guest, entry.”

A somewhat robotic female voice emitted from the camera device to repeat, “James Davenport, entry. Guest, entry. Voice recognized. Entry authorized.”

The second door creaked open with an electronic buzzing sound, and I led Damon through it and into my private workshop. I immediately felt at home, my muscles relaxing, my mind going pleasantly blank. This was my sanctuary, the one place where I could feel genuinely safe and in my element. I looked around with a happy sigh. After all the bullshit we’d been through today, it was a relief to be back home.

“Where’s the prototype?” Damon asked, cutting to the chase.

“Right,” I said, abruptly walking over to my massive work desk. I knelt down and opened a drawer, smiling as I cautiously withdrew the tech I’ve been working on. I showed it to Damon and set it on the work top.

Damon sighed in relief. “That’s the one?”

“Yep. That’s it. My hard work. My passion project,” I said fondly. Then I turned to look at Damon. “Look, the biometrics system was clearly untampered with and everything is in place here. That’s a good sign, but I’m still a little paranoid. I’m going to spend the night in here tonight. I’ll just sleep on the sofa over there.” I pointed to a vintage pull-out couch across the room next to a coffee table and antique standing lamp.

“Boy, you must spend a lot of time in here to need a sitting area,” Damon pointed out.

I smiled. “Yeah. I do. This is kind of my little personal haven, if that makes sense. Surrounded by security and tech to tinker with. Nobody can bother me here. It’s just cozy.”

“Cozy,” he repeated, looking around. “Right. Well, if you’re staying in here, then so am I, obviously. So, is that crazy biometrics system going to let me go grab us some pillows and blankets without you escorting me, or will it shoot me on sight?”

I snorted. “It’s an alarm system, not a mercenary. You’ll be fine. Just activate the first black box when you want to come back in, and I’ll authorize your entry through both doors.”

“Got it,” he said, heading toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

He was only gone for about ten minutes, during which I pored over my thick files of notes and formulas, scanning over my sketches, making sure every part and page was in order. It was a massive load off my shoulders to realize that nobody had wiggled into my lab, at least. The idea of someone puncturing the tenuous sense of privacy and protection I felt here was devastating to think about. When you lived in the public eye like I did, even though I certainly was no A-lister, it was vital to reserve some space for yourself, where you could unwind and feel free to be yourself. Your real self. Not the edited, curated version available for public consumption. If I were to lose this workshop...well, I’d be crushed.

Damon returned soon, and we made quick work of pulling out the sofa bed and making the bed. Damon crawled onto the rather creaky mattress with me, under the sheets, and watched me with silent affection as I pored over my notes until finally, my eyelids grew too heavy to see and I set the papers on the table. I wiggled down under the sheets, cozying up to Damon, and promptly fell asleep in his arms.