Page 75 of Taken Off Camera
For long moments, we stay connected and panting, our bodies trembling with aftershocks. Sebastian’s weight rests against my back, his arms holding me close.
When he slips free, the loss leaves me empty in away that goes beyond physical. Sebastian helps me stand on shaky legs, turning me to face him before pulling me into his arms. He buries his face in my neck, inhaling, and he gently kisses my sweat-dampened skin.
“Stay with me tonight,” he murmurs, arms tightening around me. “Let me hold you while you sleep.”
I nestle into his embrace, my head resting on his shoulder. “No running away this time?”
“No running.” His hand slides up to cup the back of my neck, thumb brushing over the Mark. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
The tenderness in his touch undoes me. After days of abandonment, of wondering what I’d done wrong, the security of his arms comes as a relief. My anger hasn’t fully dissipated, a week of silence impossible to erase with one beautiful moment, but the edges have dulled, leaving space for healing to begin.
As we hold each other, a thought surfaces through the pleasant haze of afterglow. “About the cameras in my apartment…”
Sebastian stiffens. “I know I should have told you about the additional security measure. It was wrong of me to?—”
“I understand why you put one near the fire escape,” I interrupt, pulling back to look at his face. “You were paranoid about security. But why was there one in the shower?”
Sebastian freezes, his face shifting from satiated to alert in an instant. “What?”
“The tiny camera we found hidden in the shower fixture.” My fingers trace patterns on his chest, following the scars. “I accept you being worried about the fire escape, but the shower was excessive. Were you worried I’d fall, or something?”
“Micah.” Sebastian’s hands grip my shoulders, his eyes sharpening. “I didn’t put a camera in your shower.”
The words hit me like ice water, clearing the last of the pleasure-fog from my brain. “What?”
“I installed cameras covering entry points only.” His face pales beneath his tan. “Windows, doors, hallway. Nothing in the bathroom except the motion sensor on the window.”
“But we found a camera.” The memory of the tiny device Saint discovered embedded in my shower head sends a chill down my spine. “If you didn’t put it there, then who?—”
“Travis.” Sebastian’s expression hardens to steel. “He’s been inside your apartment.”
20
Standing in the study at Rockford Manor, I stare in growing horror at the tiny cameras on the table before me, separated from the ones Sebastian installed in my apartment with my permission.
They’re no bigger than my thumbnail, and my stomach turns over. Travis has been inside my apartment. Inside my home. The realization keeps hitting me in waves, each one worse than the last as the implications sink deeper.
“You’re sure you didn’t install these?” My voice sounds foreign to my own ears, like a child begging to be lied to.
Sebastian shakes his head, his scarred face grim inthe warm light of the study. “I would never. Not without telling you.”
Saint slouches in a high-backed leather chair opposite me, his arms folded across his chest. His glare has been fixed on Sebastian since we moved from the security room to join him and Gabriel in the study. Milo had taken one look at our faces and hustled Phoenix out of the room.
Someone, probably a servant, had gathered the pile of security cameras from the foyer, and they now lay in a pile, disassembled with wires spilling out and lenses winking in the lamplight.
“So, we’ve established you’re both creeps,” Saint says, his boot tapping an impatient rhythm on the polished floor. “Just different flavors.”
Gabriel snorts from his position against the wood-paneled wall. He’s been watching Saint with undisguised interest since we arrived, his lingering gaze making my bestie twitchy. “You know, most people would be grateful for the level of protection Sebastian provides.”
“Most people aren’t being stalked by two different men,” Saint retorts.
I hold up a hand before Sebastian can respond. “Let’s focus on the actual threat here. When could Travis have gotten into my apartment?”
Sebastian leans forward, resting his palms on the table edge. “When was the last time you were gone for several hours? He would have needed time to install these without interruption.”
I rack my brain, sorting through the past few weeks. “The Blue Note Lounge, when I met up with Saint to pass off the soiled boxers. I spent some time at an internet cafe digging into Travis’s background before meeting Saint. I was gone for almost four hours.”
Saint’s suspicion shifts to murderous. “He was watching your place, waiting for you to leave.”
