“Don’t,” she says, turning around and walking to the elevators.
I watch her, wanting to stop her, to say anything that would turn this around.
But I hold myself back.
Remembering the task at hand.
Chapter 5: All eyes on me
Jen
That same week
“Ihate public speaking,” I mutter, pausing to run my fingers along the front of my shirt, to smooth out the wrinkles. “When is it going to be over?”
“You haven’t even started,” Matthew says, his voice extra loud in my ears. Across the crowded room, I see him in a dark suit,a press pass around his neck. He looks up, and our eyes meet. A moment later, he looks away and presses a hand to his ear.
“It’ll be over before you know it,” he adds, in a quieter voice. “Just pick a spot on the wall and stare at it.”
After our argument last night, I woke up feeling like shit. He didn’t deserve my outburst, even if it was warranted. We didn’t say much during our quick breakfast, and even though I could still feel the tension in the air, the way he was looking at me during our drive here made me feel…special. Not just for the case, but to him.
“You’re not going to tell me to picture the audience in their underwear?”
“That’s awful advice,” Matthew replies. “I never understood it, and I’ve seen it be more distracting than useful.”
I stand up straighter and peek out from behind the wall, at the rows on either side of an aisle. My eyes linger on the podium in the center of the stage. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of movement and the Slade brothers appear, with Simone leading the charge, and a group of burly uniformed men surrounding them.
With a frown, I meet Simone’s gaze and stand up straighter.
She gives me a quick nod before she glances away.
All of them sit in a row in the back of the conference room.
“Thanks for doing this by the way. I know this isn’t the most exciting part of the job….”
“I’m supposed to keep you safe, Jen,” Matthew responds, after a brief pause. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”
“Listen, about last night…”
“Eyes on the prize, Jen,” Matthew interrupts. “We can talk about that later.”
I nod and clench my fists. I’m nervous as hell, and after being on the run for two years, I know I’m out of practice when it comes to maintaining a public persona.
And I’m not stupid enough to think it was all going to come rushing back right away. With Matthew there, watching my every move, it is a little less daunting. Half of me wants to have him closer, but after last night’s outburst, keeping a little distance won’t be a bad thing.
After all, he’s your handler. Whatever thoughts and urges you’ve had before, don’t let those distract you.
A short while later, a young man in a suit steps on the stage and addresses the various members of the press gathered. Immediately, everyone settles into their chairs. My heart begins to pound against my ears as the man beckons me forward. The spotlight is blinding, and I can barely make out anyone’s features.
Flash cards are placed on the podium in front of me.
I clear my throat, place my hands on either side of the podium and lean in. “Good afternoon. Thank you all for coming. “My name is Jennifer Marshall. Two years ago, I worked for the FBI as an undercover agent. Unfortunately, my cover was blown, and I was pulled out before I could complete the mission.”
Shock shoots through the room, and cameras click.
Beads of sweat form on my forehead and the back of my neck. “I’ve been on the run since, and I haven’t been able to have a normal life or anything remotely similar because of it.”
A roar rises through the crowd, but I can barely make out anything over the pounding of my heart. A dark silhouette inches closer, and I see Matthew in the front seat, a carefully neutral expression on his face. Like everyone else, he is holding a phone up in his hand and pointing it at me.