You’d noticed it days ago.

The eyes in your blind spot. The figure just out of frame when you turned. A flash of movement in reflections—too subtle to be anyone but him.

Landon.

He never confronted you. Never spoke. But he was there. Too often. Too still. At first, you thought it was coincidence. Then paranoia.

Then tonight… it was undeniable.

You caught him.

He wasn’t even trying to hide this time. Just stood in the alley across from the safehouse, arms folded, half in shadow, watching the front door like a sentry—like a sniper lining up his next shot.

You stepped outside and didn’t say a word. Neither did he.

You crossed the street. He didn’t move. Not until you were close enough to hear the faint shift of his boots on concrete as he straightened just slightly, gaze sharp and unreadable.

“You’ve been following me,” you said plainly, not a question but an accusation.

Landon’s expression didn’t change. “Yeah,” he answered flatly.

He was silent for a moment but your judging gaze made him give in, “You’ve been marked.”

The words dropped like a dead weight between you.

Your voice came out colder than you felt. “You think I’m a threat?”

“No.” His eyes didn’t leave yours. “Not by us. By someone else. Another crew. One of the ones Corvin’s been watching quietly.” A pause. “They’ve tagged you. Red string, side of your mailbox. Classic warning.”

The nausea hit fast.

“I haven’t filed anything,” he muttered. “Not yet.”

You stared at him, a dozen questions rising like fire in your throat, but Landon finally looked back—and this time, you saw it. The tension. The guilt. The possessiveness barely held behind his quiet.

“If I report it,” he said, voice low, “Corvin assigns someone else. Someone obvious. Flashier. You’d get more eyes. More questions. More risk.”

His gaze darkened.

“And I’d lose my reason to stay this close.” He admits, though his gaze is a lot less intense after his confession, his face more like a kicked puppy. The street was quiet around you. No footsteps. No sirens. Just the sound of your heartbeat and the soft rasp of Landon’s breath.

“I can keep you safe,” he added, barely above a whisper. “But I need it to be me. No one else.”