All I can make out is Bree thanking him, and then she hangs up.
“What is it?” Arthur demands, practically falling out of his chair. “What happened?”
“That guy’s back. The one Bree banned a few weeks ago.” Jack growls. “He left a handwritten note on her door.”
“Oh, fuck,” I say, my heart catapulting into my throat. “He knows where she lives.”
Arthur whines miserably. “Maybe we should have gone to pick her up. Then we would know she’s safe!”
“I didn’t want her to wait. He could still be around.” Jack starts pacing across the kitchen. “How did he find her? What does he want?”
“He wants her,” I say.
I know people like him, like this GingerWatchman. There are always types like him floating around Sienna, just like they do around other streamers I used to watch before I found her.
“What do you mean?” asks Arthur.
“He wants her for himself. Us appearing on the stream ruined his fantasy that she belongs to him and she’s performing just for him.”
Jack scowls deeply. “Do you think he knows anything about us?”
“I don’t know.” Which is worrisome. “I thought before that maybe he’d pulled her real name from her domain registration. But if he has her address, too…” I shake my head. “No way to know what he’s got or not.”
“Full blown stalker,” says Jack, his hands curled into fists. “Shit. Bennett, how do we make sure this guy doesn’t find out where we live? Because if Bree comes to stay with us, I need to know she’s safe here.”
I nod. “Don’t worry. Unless this guy has some kind of advanced facial recognition, I think we’re okay. But we should check her car for tracker tags.”
“A tracker?” Arthur says with horror. “You think he could be following her?”
Jack suddenly pulls out his phone. “I’m telling her to park around the block,” he says. “I’ll come out and we’ll check the car before she brings it here.”
With that plan in motion, we all head out to meet Bree. When her car pulls up, she jumps out and there are tears in her reddened eyes. I grab her before she’s even on the sidewalk, hugging her hard.
“It’s okay,” I tell her as she cries against my chest. “You’re safe here.”
After we check the car from front to back, looking at the undercarriage with our phone flashlights, we determine there’s no tracker on it. Jack and I lead Bree back to the house while Arthur re-parks her car. Her hand trembles in mine the whole way.
She doesn’t have much to say that night as we all curl up on the couch to watch a stupid TV show. Her knees are drawn up with her arms around them, her eyes not really watching the screen.
“I’m sorry your safety was violated that way,” I tell her, weaving a finger through her long curls. “Tomorrow I’m going to contact your streaming service to see what I can find out.”
“We’re filing a police report first thing.” Jack’s tone is unyielding. “The cops need to get involved now.”
Bree’s shoulders hunch, and I pull her in closer.
“That’s for tomorrow,” I say. “Now, I think it’s time for ice cream.”
Twenty-Six
Arthur
It’s a quiet night as we take Bree to bed with us. She curls up tight against my side, still in a defensive position, and I worry about the security she lost tonight. Her home is no longer safe, and I can’t imagine how frightening that is.
Luckily, now that it’s summer I’m home during the day, so I can keep Bree company after Bennett and Jack leave for work. She’s quiet at breakfast, and I reach out to hold her hand under the table. She squeezes it, her expression tight and strained.
As Jack insisted, we drive to the police station in my hatchback to file the report. I know cops won’t be much help, but at least we’re establishing a paper trail should GingerWatchman escalate. Bennett suggested that with a police report in hand, we might be able to get more information about him from the streaming service.
As I expected, though, the police don’t care at all.
