Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(8)

"Sniffed?"

"Yes, like a dog. He pushed his head inside and sniffed," I explain yet again, and he lets out a laugh.

"Can you blame him? That place stinks."

"So you don't think he's a threat?"

"I'll call and have someone look into it. He just sounds like our new neighbor to me. If you were obviously alone, there is not a chance in hell one of Wilkes’s guys would have left you standing there."

"Maybe they were hoping you would come back." When I get an idea, I screech, "Maybe he was sniffing for you!"

He starts laughing. "Do I stink? Can you smell me?"

"Sometimes," I whine.

He lets out a chuckle before getting serious again. "Stay inside. I'll get him checked out, okay? Did he give you his name?"

"Adam."

"Hang tight. I'll get him looked into."

"Okay."

"Oh, and Riley. We need a new word now. Your choice this time."

"Parakeet Breath," I blurt out.

"Wait, are you calling me that or is that the word?"

"Both."

"Well, okay then. I guess I'll pick the word again," he replies, and I finally let out a small laugh. "I'll look into him," he promises again.

"Thank you," I breathe, and only partly because he's looking into Adam. It’s mainly because, even from eight hundred miles away, he still makes me feel safe.





The knock on the front door startles me. No one knows we live here. It's not like we are expecting any visitors. I have no friends or anyone to randomly stop by. It’s sad, but I have no one in this world but Dave. Although, in my old life, I didn't exactly have anyone either—but at least then I had myself. That's a lot more than I can say now.

I sit on the couch, nervously staring at the door, just waiting for the salesman to give up and leave. But this person is persistent. The knocking continues for a few minutes before I finally hear Adam’s voice from the other side of the door.

"Um, I brought you some eggs," he calls out.

I cautiously walk to the door to look through the peephole.

"I wanted to apologize for scaring you earlier. I was at the store anyway, and I knew you were out," he says loudly.

"You didn’t have to do that," I respond to the door without even considering opening it.

"Well, I guess I’ll just leave these right here for you. Don't leave them out here long. In this cold, they are liable to freeze."

"Oh, yeah. Uh, thanks," I respond awkwardly, knowing good and damn well that I am not going outside to get those eggs.

Who the hell brings someone eggs? Maybe he is just luring me outside so he can kidnap me and take me back to whomever he is working for. But if that's the case, why didn't he just grab me when he had the chance earlier? Whatever, Dave told me to stay inside. That’s more than enough for me.

I move to the window and very carefully peek through the blinds. He lingers at the door, seemingly uncomfortable. Why is he nervous?

He runs a hand through his short, black hair. "Anyway. Well. Uh…" He stumbles over his words. "Have a good night."

I watch as he walks away. He doesn't look back or try to peek in the window. He just moves into his apartment, shutting the door quietly behind him.

I pace around my living room, trying to work out every possible scenario. If he is one of Wilkes’s men, why is he taking his sweet time making a move? It's possible that he’s just a nice guy, but he's freaking huge. He's easily six foot four, and he must work out all day to keep that body. Even through a sweater, I can tell he's ripped. I just don't get it.

My phone rings from the corner, snapping me out of my quickly approaching panic attack. "Hello."

"I don't know who the hell he is," Dave says across the line, "but I don't think he's a threat."

"He just brought us eggs." I say as if that obviously proves he has malicious intent.

"What?"

"Eggs."

"Why would he bring eggs?"

"I don't know! Do you think they are poisonous?" I ask, and Dave lets out an infuriating laugh. "Don't laugh at me. I'm scared!" I snap across the line, and he immediately goes silent.

"I'm going to send someone. You can argue all you want, but I don't want you alone and scared. This Adam guy seems harmless. The apartment is owned by some man named Jimmy Douglas. His record is squeaky clean. He's a boxing trainer out in L.A. I'm going to assume Adam is one of his fighters, probably down on his luck and needing a place to stay."

"He's really big," I whisper across the line, "so that at least makes more sense."

"I'm sending someone tomorrow. Hang tight. It will look like a date. He'll bring your favorite flowers since we don't have a word right now. And I'm not setting up a new one over the phone."

"Okay." I bite my lip so he can't hear the tears in my voice.

"I won't let anything happen to you. I swear," he vows tenderly.

"I know you won't." I try to smile, but it only forces the tears to spill from my eyes.

"Don't cry," he says softly.