Page 58 of Taken Off Camera
He brushes past me into the apartment, the scent of cold autumn air clinging to his clothes. His gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the half-heartedcleanup, the coffee stains, and the overflowing trash bag.
“This place looks like shit.” He turns to face me. “And so do you.”
My fingers rise to my greasy hair. “Thanks for the news bulletin.”
He shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. “When’s the last time you showered?”
“Not sure. Maybe Sunday.” I close the door, triple-checking the locks.
Saint frowns. “You eating?”
I gesture toward the bulging trash bag. “Obviously.”
“Right.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Show me what came today.”
My stomach clenches as I move to the desk, pulling open the drawer to retrieve the photo.
Saint takes it, his expression hardening as he examines the defaced image. “Where was this taken from?”
“Building across the street, I think. Same angle as the last ones.” I sink onto the couch, pulling a throw pillow into my lap. “That’s number four.”
“Four?” Saint’s head snaps up. “You only told me about two.”
Heat rises to my face. “The third came whileSebastian was here. He took it with him. Said he’d deal with it.”
Saint’s jaw tightens at the mention of Sebastian. “Fat lot of good that did.” He holds up the photo. “When did you get this one?”
“About an hour ago.” My fingers dig into the pillow. “Delivery guy needed a signature.”
“You opened the door?” he demands in disbelief.
“Through the chain.” I sink deeper into the couch. “I didn’t want them coming back.”
Saint sets the photo face down on the coffee table. “Any other mail? Calls? Messages online?”
I shake my head. “I closed all my accounts when Sebastian installed the cameras. No streams, no messages, nothing.”
“So you quit camming because of this stalker?”
The question hangs between us, loaded with suspicion. Saint knows me well enough to spot the hesitation before I speak.
“Not exactly.” I pick at a loose thread on the pillow. “Sebastian asked me to stop.”
Saint’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sebastian asked?”
“He thought the streams gave Travis more material to fixate on.” The justification sounds hollow now, with Sebastian gone and Travis still sendingpackages. “It was supposed to be temporary until they found him.”
“They?”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Sebastian said he had resources.”
Saint moves closer, looming over me. “And you believed him? You let him tell you to stop working?”
“It made sense at the time.” I drop the pillow and stand, needing to feel less vulnerable under Saint’s scrutiny. “We thought if I disappeared from view, Travis might show his hand.”
“We.” The word drips with skepticism.
“Yes, we.” I snap, temper flaring. “We were a team, Saint. Or, at least, I thought we were.”
