Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(36)

"Why?" I jump to my feet. I want to immediately rip the contents from the package and, at the same time, hide it for all of eternity.

"You know why, Riley."

"What is it?" I ask, knowing that Dave opened it, especially since I’m assuming it was addressed to me.

"Flowers."

"Okay." I breathe a sigh of relief. I can handle meaningless flowers.

"And new sweats. They’re pink," he says, and it makes my eyes water. Sweats may not be the most romantic gift, but the memory makes the tears appear. Though his final words are what make them fall freely. "And clear contacts."

"What?"

"I think you need to read this." He pushes a handwritten note toward me.



"What is wrong with him?" I put the note down on the bed beside me.

"Um, I think he’s a man who likes you."

"Asshole," I mumble under my breath.



For six long months, my weekly contacts arrive, unwelcome. They either wind up in the trash or sitting on top of my bed—depending on whether Dave or I get the mail that day. It never fails. They always come with some random accompaniment. At first, it was cliché flowers, but then I think he got serious. One day, I came home to a special delivery of three-dozen fresh, organic eggs. Don’t ask me why three dozen, but regardless, there they sat in a cooler on my doorstep. I had an overwhelming urge to throw them at his front door, but I knew I would be the one who had to clean them. Instead, we had omelets for dinner. After that, his gifts ranged from flowers and candy, a case of wine, and sometimes even mace. But today… Today, I got Italian food.

"Fuck," I hear Dave moan as I walk in the room. "Riley, this food is amazing!"

"Yeah, I know," I say, pulling two plates from the cabinet. "Why does he keep sending stuff? We barely knew each other. It’s been six freaking months."

"I don’t know, babe. Probably the same reason why, every time I open the computer, you’ve left open some article about him or why you secretly ordered the pay-per-view of his fight last night."

"What? How’d you know about that?"

"Because when I went to buy it, the cable company told me it had already been purchased." He gives me a big smile while popping a piece of garlic bread into his mouth.

"Yeah, well. At least I’m not being creepy and sending him gifts all the time."

"Ah, yes. Stalking him from afar is so much less creepy."

I roll my eyes and walk away, knowing that he’s right. I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to Slate.

For the first few weeks after he left, I was a mess. I missed him more than I ever would have thought. Slate was my escape. When I was with him, I wasn’t constantly reminded of my past or my current life on the run. I felt alive and happy. And most of all, I felt like a woman again. He desired me, and with him, that didn’t scare me. Slate was a completely separate facet for me. And then…he was gone.

"Riley, what are you going to do if he comes back?" Dave asks unexpectedly.

"Why would he come back?"

"You know this is where he runs to after fights."

I jump to my feet. "What?"

"Okay, so apparently this is new information for you." He sighs.

"Don’t f*ck around. Is he coming here?" I yell, desperate to know if I need to prepare to face Slate—or better yet, start packing my bags.

"I have no idea. The way you two left things… I just don’t know."

"You know, if he comes back, we have to move, right?"

"So you don’t have to face him, or because it would be dangerous to stay?" It’s a real question, but I know he’s prodding me.

"All of the above!"

"Right." He shakes his head with a look of disappointment.

"Don’t bullshit me. Do you think he will come back?" I ask, nowhere near ready for his answer.

"Probably."

I put my untouched food in the sink and head directly to my room. I can’t handle seeing Slate. Even if it means moving again, I would pack up right this very second just to avoid him. At the same time, I would give up everything I have just to feel his touch again. Maybe feel the warmth and safety he gives me when he says my name—even if it is the wrong one.

"Riley," Dave calls as I walk away, but he doesn’t follow me.

I fall into bed with golden eyes blocking my every distraction. I miss Adam, but I’m terrified of Slate.





"Damn, I’m sorry!" Slate exclaims when I slam into his chest as I round the corner to my apartment.

"Shit!" I jump back, overreacting as usual.

Running into Slate Andrews is the realization of my every nightmare as well as the answer to my every prayer.

"It’s okay, Riley. It’s just me." He immediately tries to soothe me. Even after all these months, I know exactly who me is without even having to look into his face.

"Jesus," I gasp, trying to catch my breath.

"Hey, beautiful." I look up to catch a sweet smile on his gorgeous face. Damn if I don’t want to kiss it.

"What are you doing here?" I snap.

"Um, I live here?"