Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(17)

"You drinking at two a.m.?" he asks, and I have to laugh.

"It’s four here."

"Well thank Christ for that. I was starting to worry about you."

I laugh mid-sip, causing beer to spray from my lips. "Oh yeah? Is drinking at two worse than drinking at four?" I ask while wiping my mouth on the back of my sleeve.

"Hell yeah. Two a.m. means you haven’t stopped yet. Four a.m. just means you are starting early," he says without a single hint of humor.

"I’ll keep that in mind." I smile to myself.

"So, you have anything other than a name and address?"

"Nope."

"You want to explain any of this to me?"

"Nope," I repeat then take another pull from my beer.

"I’ll see what I can do, Slate. If you’ve been jeopardized, you need to get out of there. Don’t let people find you or you will never be able to go back."

"Damn it, I know," I curse, more at the entire situation than his reminder.

"Right. Well, I’ll let you know as soon as I find something. I’m assuming money isn’t an issue on this one since you’re asking me."

"Whatever it costs, Jimmy. I just want answers."

"Give me a couple of days."

"Thanks," I say, but in true Jimmy Douglas fashion, he hangs up before I even finish the word.

I let out a relieved breath, knowing that soon I’ll be getting some answers.

"Fuck." I shouldn’t have left her with him, but what the hell was I supposed to do? She wouldn’t listen to me, and he almost even convinced me that he isn’t who she's afraid of. Almost. I think back to our conversation while she was getting the ice.

"My name is Adam," I said adamantly.

"No. Your name is Slate Andrews. I’m just trying to figure out what the f*ck you are doing here," he said, sliding his body up onto the couch. "And better yet, why you told her your name was Adam in the first place."

"Don’t say anything. Please," I pleaded.

"Are you more worried about your little secret than the fact that I held a gun to your head?"

"Yes," I answered honestly.

"And her?" His swollen eyes narrowed slightly.

His question left me puzzled. I didn’t know what he was asking or what answer I could possibly give him. "What about her?"

"See, I walk into my apartment tonight to find Riley curled into a ball. You were sound-ass asleep, and so was she, but her hand—" He paused to shake his head. "She had one hand reaching out, holding the arm you were propped up on. Damn it. I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"Oh yeah? How’d that last attempt work out for you?" I asked just to be a dick while wiping the nonexistent blood from my bottom lip.

"You could have killed me if it meant that she was okay," he announced oddly, and it quite honestly floored me. Who the f*ck is this guy?

"Why the hell is she so terrified of everything? She was a f*cking mess tonight. I’ve never seen a woman so afraid in my life. I swear to God, if I find out you had anything to do with that fear…" I stopped only to step in close. I know the walls are thin, and she was right next door. "I won’t stop next time," I solemnly swore. "There is not an army in the f*cking world that could save you if I find out that you're responsible."

He cocked his battered and bruised head to the side with a sick sense of approval. But what really pissed me off most was the slight tip in his lips when he said, "I’ve never laid a f*cking hand on her."

"Then what the hell is she so afraid of? Who are you to her?" I screamed as loud as my whisper would allow.

"I’m her family. Now, better question—what are you doing alone in my apartment with her?"

"I’m doing your f*cking job. I’m looking out for her. Making sure she’s safe. She’s not okay. I really f*cking hope you recognize that." I glared at him and his eyes immediately dropped to his lap.

"Hey." Riley suddenly appeared in the door, halting any further conversation.

I did everything I could short of dragging her away from him. And I would have done that if I’d thought it wouldn’t make me just as bad as he is. A barrage of images from the night flashes through my mind. I’ll never be able to forget how scared she was tonight, but the one picture in the forefront of my mind is that single moment when she smiled. Now that was amazing.





I have no idea how I let Dave guilt me into this. But somehow, I find myself nervously knocking on Adam’s front door. It’s still dark outside but the sun is starting to peek over the horizon. It’s been a really long night.

"What the hell am I doing?" I ask myself. This is ridiculous. He’s probably asleep and I’m going to be the crazy neighbor who wakes him up yet again.

Just as I turn to walk away, I hear the click of his deadbolt.

He opens the door and his eyes quickly check over my body from head to toe. His angry demeanor sends me back a step, but he immediately softens.

"Shit, Riley. Are you okay?" He reaches out to pull me inside, and normally I would be afraid of such a sudden movement, but the tenderness in his voice keeps my fear at bay.