Chapter 12
Hours later, after frequent interruptions, Sebastian completes the installation, then walks me through the security app on my phone.
Each camera feed appears as a separate tile on the screen, far superior to the camera Saint could afford to install in the hallway.
A small red dot in the corner indicates that they’re all recording.
“The system stores footage for fourteen days before deleting it,” Sebastian explains, “unless you save specific clips.”
I absorb the information while watching our own images on the phone screen. Seeing ourselves from this new perspective feels surreal, like we’re characters in our own reality show.
As Sebastian packs up to leave, he keeps glancing over at where I sit on the couch, once again pretending to read while trying not to be sad that he can’t stay another night.
He stands and strides over to kneel beside me. “I have a difficult request.”
My stomach tightens at his seriousness. “What is it?”
He takes the book from my hand and sets it on the coffee table to free my fingers for him to grasp in his. “I want you to stop camming. At least for now.”
I straighten, angry heat rising to my face. “Excuse me?”
“Travis, or whoever sent those photos, is watching your streams,” Sebastian continues, his scarred face tight with worry. “Every time you go online, you give him more access to you.”
“That’s my job.” I try to pull my hands free, but he holds on tight. “That’s my income, my independence, and my choice.”
“I know, and I’m not asking for forever. I would never ask you to give up what you love.” He raises my fingers to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “But until we find him, it’s dangerous to keep camming.”
“And how long will that take?” I free myself and scoot upright on the sofa, wrapping my arms around my knees. “A week? A month? Six months? I have bills to pay.”
“I can help with—”
“No!” The word comes out sharper than intended. “We’ve been through this. I don’t take extra money from patrons.”
Sebastian flinches as if struck. “Is that what I still am to you? A patron?”
The hurt in his expression cuts through my defensive anger. “No, of course not.” I uncurl, dropping my feet to the floor on either side of him. “But my channel is important to me. It’s not only my income. It gives me the freedom to express myself.”
“I understand.” Sebastian leans forward, his hands settling on my hips. “But these photos, the messages… This person is dangerously fixated on you. Each stream gives him more to obsess over.”
“So I’m supposed to let him control my life?” I shake my head. “Stop doing what I love because some creep can’t separate fantasy from reality?”
Sebastian rests his head in my lap. “I care about you too much to see you exposed to whoever sent that package.”
“You don’t understand. My subscribers won’t wait around forever. If I vanish, they’ll move on to someone else.”
“I know I’m asking a lot. But the thought of him watching you, fantasizing about you—” His arms encircle my waist in a hug. “It terrifies me, Micah.”
The vulnerability in his admission disarms me, but before I can respond, my phone chimes, alerting us that someone is approaching my door. As the end unit, no one comes this far down the hallway except for visitors and delivery personnel.
Sebastian’s head lifts. “Are you expecting a package?”
“No.”
A knock sounds at the door, and Sebastian rises, moving to check the peephole. “Who is it?”
“Delivery for Micah Barnes,” comes the muffled response.
“Leave it at the door, please.”
My stomach twists as Sebastian uses the app on his phone to track the person until they leave before he opens my apartment door, retrieving a small, padded envelope from the hallway.
He examines it before bringing it inside, checking for return addresses or identifying marks. Finding none, he hands it to me with obvious reluctance.
My fingers tremble as I tear open the seal. Inside is a screenshot from my last livestream three days ago. My face is circled in red marker, with the words “MINE ONLY” scrawled across it in jagged capitals. Bile rises in my throat as I turn it over to find a message on the back
“No one else should touch what belongs to me.”
Does that mean he saw Sebastian in my apartment? Or Saint?
Sebastian takes the photo from my shaking hands, his jaw tightening as he examines it. “This is escalating.” He places the photo back in its envelope and adds it to his bag to take with him. “He’s becoming more possessive and explicit in his demands.”
Cold seeps through me, replacing the anger from moments before.
“Wait,” I say, stopping him before he can zip the bag closed. My hands still tremble, but I reach for the envelope, tugging it back toward me. “I want a copy. Photos, scans, whatever. If this escalates again, I need proof.”
Sebastian studies me for a long moment. “You’re right. We’ll document everything.”
The resolve in my own voice surprises me. “Good. Because I won’t let this guy make me helpless in my own home.”
The words sound strong, but my hands tremble, and my throat tightens. Brave words don’t change the truth staring back at me.
“I’ll stop camming, for now,” I whisper, my earlier resistance crumbling under the weight of this new threat. “But it’s my decision, Sebastian. When I go back online, it’ll be when I’m ready, not because you said so.”
I tell myself it’s only temporary, but every day I’m offline is another day my account doesn’t refill. Views mean rent. Subscriptions mean groceries. And right now, I’m choosing safety over both.
But what use is going live if I’m too scared to perform?
“It won’t be for long,” Sebastian says, as if he can read my thoughts. He moves to sit beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. “We’ll find him, Micah, I promise.”
I lean into his warmth, seeking comfort in his solid presence. “How?”
My own efforts hadn’t pinned Travis down. The man has gone off the grid.
“I have resources beyond the police,” Sebastian says with absolute certainty. “And I’m not the only one who wants to protect you.”
As if summoned by his words, my phone lights up with a text.
Saint
Can we talk?
I show the screen to Sebastian, who hugs me closer. “See? You’re not alone in this. You should call him and talk it out.”
“He badmouthed you,” I grumble.
He kisses my temple. “Bros before beaus.”
I snort out a laugh. “Oh, you think we’re dating now?”
He nibbles on my ear. “No?”
I elbow him.
“Yes?”
I turn my head to catch his lips. “Better.” Then I pull back. “So, we’re doing this?”
“Yes, we’re doing this,” he says, his expression softening. “So, reconcile with your best friend and make sure he understands I’m going to be around for a long time.”
“It won’t be easy,” I warn him.
“Nothing worth having ever is.” He nudges the phone in my hand. “Go on. I’ll wait until he’s here before I leave.”
“Brave man.” I fiddle with my phone before I shoot off a response.
Micah
Come over. Sebastian is here.
Reading over my shoulder, Sebastian tickles my side. “Are you taunting him?”
“Maybe.” I giggle and push at him, falling onto my side.
With a growl, Sebastian pounces on top of me, tickling under my sweatshirt until I’m howling and gasping for breath.
The hallway alarm goes off, and Sebastian straightens. “Damn. He must have been in the lobby when he texted.”
“Probably,” I wheeze, shoving him off me.
“Straighten your clothes,” he instructs, checking the hall security as he heads for the door. “Your friend brought pastries.”
I push myself off the couch. “That means he feels guilty.”
Sebastian opens the door, revealing Saint, who freezes with his key out. His narrow eyes flick past Sebastian to find me, then back to Sebastian, giving him a head-to-toe assessment that could strip paint.
“You must be the famous Saint,” Sebastian extends his hand. “I’m Sebastian.”
Saint ignores the outstretched hand, stepping around him into my apartment. His boots falter as he spots the new camera mounted near my ceiling. “What the hell is all this?”
Sebastian closes the door, face neutral. “Security upgrades.”
“So I see.” Saint turns in a slow circle, counting each device. “You bugging the place, too?”
I move between them. “Sebastian installed them after what happened last night.”
Saint’s attention snaps to me. “What happened?”
“Someone delivered photos,” I explain, “taken through my window.”
Saint drops the pastry bag on the coffee table, all pretense of a casual visit evaporating. “Through your window? You’re on the sixth floor.”
“Telephoto lens.” I cross my arms. “And a note.”
Sebastian picks up his coat and tools from where they rest on the dining table. “I should head out to give you two some privacy.”
“No,” Saint surprises me by saying. “Stay. If this involves Micah’s safety, I want to hear everything.”
The two men regard each other, an unspoken assessment passing between them. Sebastian replaces his items on the table while Saint claims my armchair, leaving Sebastian and me to share the couch.
Saint leans forward, elbows on his knees. “So, what exactly happened?”
I explain about the package delivered during our date, the photographs, and the threatening message. With each detail, Saint’s expression darkens, his fingers curling into fists until his knuckles turn white.
Saint addresses Sebastian for the first time. “And you installed all this?”
“I did.” Sebastian points to the devices. “Four cameras to cover all entry points. Motion sensors on the windows. Silent alarm connected to both our phones.”
“And the police?”
Sebastian and I exchange a look. “We haven’t contacted them yet.”
Saint snorts. “Because they won’t take it for what it is. An Omega cam boy getting harassed? They’ll say it comes with the territory.”
“Exactly.”
The hardness in Sebastian’s response draws Saint’s attention. For a long moment, they stare at each other, one Alpha assessing another.
“What’s your plan?” Saint asks at last.
“Find Travis,” Sebastian answers without hesitation. “Stop him.”