Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(6)

"Erica." He whispers my real name so quietly that, if I didn't know what he was saying, I wouldn't have heard it at all. But I did hear it, and it sends chills through my entire body—quickly followed by tears. I rock back into him and immediately fold toward the floor. His strong arms catch me before I fall even an inch. "I've got you," he whispers, carrying me to the tattered couch. His brown eyes pierce into mine, and I try to lock down the emotions. But no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to find the latch.

"Let it go," he urges, reading my struggling body language.

I fight it for a few more minutes before finally releasing it all. I roll over to my stomach and bury my face in the pillow, sobbing. He rubs my back for hours as I fade in and out of sleep—waking only to cry some more.

Some hours later, I wake up dehydrated, starving, and with a splitting headache. I look down and find him sleeping peacefully at the end of the couch with my feet resting in his lap. I both love and hate this moment at the exact same time. Those moments shouldn't cross for a person, but for me, they are dangerously similar.

"Dave." I push against his leg, but he remains still. "Dave." I nudge him again with absolutely zero reaction. Finally, I give up and lean in close. "Leo," I whisper.

Knowing the drill, I quickly back away as he flies to his feet—fists raised and swinging. His eyes flash around the apartment before landing on me just a few feet away.

"God damn it, Riley!" he huffs.

"You wouldn't wake up," I try to explain.

"I don't give a f*ck if I'm dead. You don't call me that. Ever. Do you understand me?"

"Whatever. I'm going to bed."

I hear him growl as I march to my bedroom. "Riley, wait."

"Go to bed, Dave. We have to be at work in a few hours."

"It doesn't mean the same to me as it does you," he says from my doorway.

"Get out. I want to change clothes."

"Your name means something to you. But if someone knows mine, it just means that I've failed—and we're both dead." He runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

I suddenly feel ashamed. I know he’s right, but what he doesn’t understand is that sometimes I need to say his name. I need to be reminded that not everything is a lie.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop. Apologizing."

"No. I mean it. You know the first couple of days after a move are always the hardest for me. I'm sorry. I'll get my shit together. I promise."

"I know you will." He smiles so warmly that it makes me feel even worse.

We silently stare at each other for a few beats. He always lets me get away with this bullshit after a move.

"Hey, I didn't get a chance to tell you earlier. I have to go away for some training in a few days. I'll only be gone four days tops."

"What? Why?" My heart begins to race.

"On-the-job training."

"You install car stereos! You could do that in your sleep."

"Yes, but Dave can't." He walks forward and puts an arm around my shoulders. "Do you want me to call it in? Get someone to come stay with you?"

"No. Please don't. I don't want any extra attention that could draw them to us. I'll be fine for a couple of days. I have a phone if I need anything."

"God, you are a terrible liar."

"Shut up. I am not."

He laughs then tries to reassure me. "You'll be okay."

The truth is that he’s a much worse liar than I am. I can tell that this is going to kill him. I'll be nervous the entire time he's gone, but he will be in a complete and utter panic until he gets back.

"Get out of here. Go to bed. Tomorrow will be better." I push him toward the door.

"Right. Night, Riley."

"Night, Dave!" I shout, and he throws me a wink over his shoulder.





Home.

I spent years trying to escape this place. All I wanted was to make a better life for me and my mother. I wanted all the crap that poor kids dream about—a grand mansion, nice cars, and fancy meals. I wanted her to retire, get off her feet, stop worrying about how she was going to make ends meet, and then I’d finally be able to pay her back for a little of what she gave me. The day I won my first title, I finally succeeded in earning enough money to get her out of here.

Twelve years later, I came back.

Who would have guessed the place I hated most in the world all those years ago would eventually become my safe haven? No one knows I bought this building three years ago. It would be a media circus if they did. Which is exactly why I bought this place to escape. Luckily for me, Jimmy was willing to put it in his name to keep mine, as owner, off public record. He even paid for it out of his own pocket to keep the paper trail from leading back to me. He did get a nice little bonus that year that more than compensated him for his efforts.

As I pull up in my economy rental car, an immediate sense of calm washes over me. Not the kind you feel after a few deep breaths or a stiff drink. I'm talking the kind of calm you feel in your bones. The eye of a tornado. The still after an earthquake. The silence after a hurricane. Calm.

I grab my small bag from the backseat and head inside. I never bring much with me when I come here. I never had anything before—why start now? Honestly, my whole first twenty years of life could have fit in this bag with plenty of room to spare.