Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(68)

There are four men standing around me in various stages of injury, and even though my hands are bound, I still manage to escape their grasp and rush toward her. Tears are streaming from her bright-blue eyes, and without question, I know I will do absolutely anything to protect her. I never thought murdering someone would sound so appealing, but as I watch this man tip a gun up to Erica’s head, it suddenly becomes my life mission to make sure he dies a painful death.

"Mr. Andrews, so nice to finally meet you. I’m a big fan," he says, pulling Erica’s hair tighter, forcing her to cry out.

I recognize him as Lucas Wilkes from one of the photos Leo had in the folder. I instinctually take another step forward, but he shakes his head to stop me.

"No, no, Slate. I’m going to need you to stay right where you are." His smirk is disgusting.

"Give her to me," I growl but freeze as he slides the gun to her temple.

"I’m afraid I can’t do that, and if you get any grand plans of trying to muscle your way out of this, I can assure you, I have no problem killing either one of you." He turns his attention to the men standing behind me. "Bring him to the living room," he bites out as he walks from the bedroom, his hand still firmly planted in Erica’s hair.

My head spins as I try to figure out what to do. How the hell did they even get up here? But before I can really wrap my mind around the current situation, two men step up on each side of me, guiding me from the room. I don’t fight them. I need to make sure Erica is safe before I can even consider fighting back again.

I’m led into the living room, where he is still holding her. His grunts deposit me in a chair and stand behind me. My eyes stay glued to Erica. She's crying, but the most alarming part is the odd level of calm she’s wearing under the surface. It’s almost as if she has given up and accepted this as the end.

"It’s okay, beautiful," I say to try to snap her out of it—to bring her attention back to us. Even if I am bound to a chair, I need her to focus on something real before she gets lost in the fear.

"Beautiful! How sweet!" Wilkes laughs manically. "You know, Slate. I have been asking myself over and over how the hell a big time celebrity like yourself got involved with these two. I thought, on the way over here, that you were just a fool who hired the wrong man to run security. But now…" He pulls Erica to face him. "I heard you were a little whore. Are you sleeping with the boss? Tsk tsk, Erica. What would dear old Leo have to say about this? There has to be a reason all these men are falling all over themselves to keep you from me. Maybe I should take you for a quick spin to see if you live up to the hype." He leans forward, dragging his nose up her neck.

Bile rises to my throat as I bolt to my feet. Blinded by my uncontrollable anger, I sprint toward him only to be knocked to my ass by two of the men who were, seconds ago, standing behind me.

"Get your f*cking hands off her!" I shout from the ground, but his smile widens.

"Now where’s the fun in that? I’m quite enjoying the show." He moves behind her and very suggestively rolls his hips against her.

A blaze of rage erupts inside me again. I jump to my feet, head-butting the man on my left before charging forward. I’m not thinking straight, and it’s only the sound of Erica’s scream that slows me to a halt.

"Slate, stop!"

I look up and see that Wilkes has moved the gun from Erica and is currently aiming it directly at my chest. Part of me wouldn’t even care if he shot me right now if it meant I could get my hands on him. But the idea of leaving Erica alone with him is the only thing that stills me.

"Please just stop!" Erica cries, completely breaking down for the first time since this whole ordeal started. Her body violently shakes and fear covers every inch of her beautiful face. "Please. Just do what he says for a minute." Her eyes are pleading. "Just one minute, Slate," she repeats.

I stare at her in confusion, but I can’t catch my breath any more than I can process what the hell she is attempting to convey to me. But it’s obvious that trying to bulldoze over these *s isn’t going to do us any good. I take the few steps backward, careful never to take my eyes off Wilkes, and sit back down in the chair. I suck in a few deep breaths to slow my racing mind. I need to formulate a plan, but the image of this man touching my Erica is holding me captive.

"Okay, Slate. Let’s get to the point. As very entertaining as your little show was, I’m getting bored. Tell me where Leo James is at and I’ll be out of here before you know it. Who knows? I might even leave your little girlfriend here when I leave."

"You are not taking her anywhere. Ever," I say menacingly, but it does nothing to sway his cheery demeanor.

"Last chance." He smiles, moving the gun back to Erica’s head. "Where. Is. Leo?"

"I have no f*cking idea where he is. He left us over a week ago," I bite out, but my eyes flash to Erica. Her chest is heaving, but she has the strangest look on her face.

"He’s lying," she squeaks out. My eyes go wide as I look at her, confused. "If I tell you where he is, you have to promise to let Slate go. He’s not involved in this."

"Oh, of course, my love. I would never harm your dear Slate. You tell me where Leo is and I’ll leave Slate unharmed." He winks at me from behind her. Lying son of a bitch.