Redacted [h.s]

34

*there's a song/video that appears in this chapter. press play when you see it. - j

— XO Lounge Presents: Hot Holiday

ZARA

"Is that all?" I've lost count of how many of Niall's side eyes have shot my way, this time, watching me grab my phone off of the table. My head is throbbing and I just want to lay down.

"Yup. That's all. As you know, we'll have eyes on XO tonight and there will be a few agents on-site to keep an eye on you," Niall adds dully.

"Tell those assholes to stop making it obvious when they're outside of my house and when they're at XO, especially. I hate the fact that they have to be there in the first place and th-"

"Again, those assholes are there to protect you. Surely, you haven't forgotten everything that's happened. And then that video you were sent..." My eyes roll up to the ceiling. "Don't be a dick about it."

Because of everything that's happened within the past month: basically being drugged and possibly kidnapped, the tracking software being found on my phone, having a hit out on me, the incidents that happened at Neon, The Dive, in France at the auction and being followed; the Bureau, with Niall's suggestion, upped protective services for me.

That means: two-three "cleaning days" instead of the previous once a week; round-the-clock surveillance on me and outside of my house; an increase in the number of check-ins with Niall or the office every few hours; cameras installed to the exterior of my house (something I'd declined before, while interior cameras were again declined); and a rotation of agents posing as customers during my shifts at XO (whom are not to interact with me), except covertly in XO: Fantasy sometimes.

The fact that they have to be there in the first place drives me insane. I'm literally being watched nearly all day, every day and it's been this way for nearly a month, when I came back home. Yes, all of it is for my protection but come on!

But as if that isn't enough, on top of all of that, the latest addition to the shitshow that my life has become is an ominous video that was sent to me the other day.

"That's not what I meant. I know why they have to there but they're literally every-fucking-where. The only time that I'm alone is in the bathroom. They sit outside the house, agents in and out my door. It's like dozens of shadows following me around. It's suffocating. And you suggested it to the office. So, this is all your fucking fault."

Niall's fingertips press into his eyes as he releases a heavy sigh. I'm not saying anything new. I've been saying this since the first day. So, he's heard me repeat these same gripes nearly every day.

When he slams his hands down, the table shakes a little bit and glasses rattle along with it. Without either of us looking, we know that the quick glances of the other customers in Becca's focus on us. We don't care.