Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(46)

I instantly freeze at his words, completely unsure of how to respond. His eyes search mine for an answer, but I have nothing to offer. He sees right through my lies—he has since the day I met him.

"Yeah. That’s what I thought." He pushes off me and to his feet.

"Slate, wait!" I call after his sudden departure. He didn’t leave the room, but he left me all the same.

I grab his waist and plant my head against his chest. His arms immediately wrap around me, and he lets out a resigned sigh.

"I’m not going anywhere, beautiful. But tell me something real. I think I know you, but I always feel like I’m missing something. It’s like you are some seven-billion-piece puzzle, and every time I find a corner tile, you change the entire picture."

I laugh, knowing exactly what he’s saying. I feel the exact same way too. I’ve lost so much of myself over the years that I don’t even know what the picture is anymore.

"What did you mean you know what it feels like to give up your life?"

"I just meant, I don’t want you to give up something for me," I lie. "We can make this work without you having to do that." I give him a fake smile, but once again, Slate calls my bluff.

He takes two giant steps forward, forcing me to fall back against the wall. Not because I’m scared but because I have nowhere else to go. "Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit." He leans closer with every word until his mouth is only a breath away from mine. "I won’t ask. But just so you know, I think you are full of bullshit."

"I gathered that by the excessive use of bullshit." I smart off while looking at his mouth.

He quickly closes the gap, mumbling against my lips, "Well, as long as we're clear." His tongue snakes into my mouth, claiming me as his own. He slides a hand under my shirt and over my breasts. I eagerly reach down to unbutton his pants, but his hands still me. "I’m starving. So unless you plan on feeding me something else"—he pointedly looks down at the button on my own jeans—"I need to eat."

"Tease," I mumble and head for the door.

It’s probably for the best that he stopped things from progressing. It’s light outside, and even with my curtains drawn, there is no way I could have hidden my scars from him. Dave and I developed a less than convincing story about how I got them in an accident, but Slate is already suspicious about my past. There is no way he would have believed some weak-ass story. That is just not a bridge I’m ready to cross yet.





"I don’t want you to go," I say, lying naked, wrapped in Slate’s arms.

"It’s only for a few days, beautiful."

"You know you are going to have to lay really low for a while. No more going to that gym at night anymore when you get back." I drag my fingers over his hard abs. "And you know I’m only using you for your body. How will we ever manage that if you can’t work out?"

He laughs, squeezing me hard against his chest. "I’ll have some equipment delivered while I’m gone. Make a little gym in the spare room. You want to start working out with me? Clothing is completely optional."

"Well as sexy as naked lunges sound, I’m going to say yes to working out but no to the naked part."

He suddenly rolls me over, hovering on his elbows above me. "When I get back, I will just be Slate Andrews. Not professional boxer or celebrity. Just Slate. Can you just be Riley? No more hiding or secrets. I need some truths, beautiful. I don’t want you to relive any details for me, but even the general idea of who you really are would be amazing."

"Slate," I whisper, swallowing around the newly formed lump in my throat.

"I want you. All of you. Not these little bits I hear echoing around the room. I just want you, Riley."

Tears well in my eyes because that’s exactly what I want to give him too. But I’m not totally sure that woman even exists anymore.

"I can try," I respond hesitantly, just to appease him.

"Mmm, good answer," he sighs.





Three days later…





"Pack your bags," Dave says, storming into my room.

"What?" I jump to my feet.

"First, I’m going to kill your f*cking boyfriend. Then we have to move," he barks.

"Wait. What did Slate do?"

"He’s hired an entire f*cking network of PIs to investigate you!" he roars.

"No," I barely breathe. I fall back onto the bed and my legs start shaking as my worst nightmare comes true. "How? I mean, did he find anything?"

"Well, one of his guys found Jessica Lynn and Chris Webb."

"Oh, God. No, no, no!" I begin to pace as my breath stills in my chest. "How is that even possible?"

"I have no f*cking idea, but I guess, when you have unlimited resources, anything is possible. Point is, if Slate can do it, so can Wilkes. We have to go."

"I’m not leaving him."

"I’m sorry, babe. We don’t have any other options. We need to go."

"I’m not leaving him!" I scream.

"Riley, we don’t have any options. I’ll see what I can do in a few months about getting back in touch with him. But right now, the safest thing for everyone is to put some distance between you two. Let’s set up a new life, get settled, then maybe see if we can figure out how to bring him back into the picture."