Among the Echoes(16)

"Well, go f*cking get it!" she yells, continuing her examination of his face.

"I’m not leaving you with him. If you want ice, you are going to have to get it yourself," I say without an ounce of hesitation.

"Adam," she hisses, but he catches her attention.

"Go get it. I’ll be fine," he says weakly.

She begins to reassure him, and it makes my skin crawl. "I’m not leaving you."

"Come on. I need some ice or I’m going to look like Sloth from The Goonies tomorrow." This f*cking * is trying to make a joke right now. It only intensifies my rage.

Riley turns to me and asks, "Will you come with me?" I know she doesn’t want to leave me alone with him. Rightly so, because I am going to f*ck this * up the second she closes the door.

"No," I answer, never taking my eyes off the pitiful excuse of a man on the floor.

"Adam, please," she urges, but she could beg all day and it wouldn’t change my mind. With or without her permission, I’m going to take care of this situation.

"Riley, just grab the ice. I promise we’ll be okay," he answers, pushing up on his elbows.

"There’s a bowl under the sink. Ice is in the freezer," I say emotionlessly.

"Don’t touch him. Swear you won’t touch him!" she orders, and my eyes flash to hers for only a second. She’s pleading with me, but I don’t give a damn. Her reactions over the last twenty-four hours speak louder than her words ever could.

I don’t answer her demand, but he does. "Go. See if he has any gauze while you’re at it." He pinches his nose and gently touches a large cut over his brow.

"Damn it," she swears, looking between us, but finally, marches out the door.

I don’t waste any time. "Who are you?"

"Why were you sleeping on my couch?" he counters.

"Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?" I move closer to crowd him.

"Dave Roberts. I’m not her boyfriend if that’s why you’re trying to have a dick show," he says, spitting blood on the floor between us.

"Dave, huh? Then why the f*ck does she call you Leo?"

"I don’t know, Slate. Why does she call you Adam?"

Shit.





"Come on, come on, come on," I chant to Adam’s ice trays as I quickly try to dump them into the bowl. The way Leo—I mean Dave—looked tonight tore me to shreds. I thought for too many hours that he was dead, and to see him lying lifelessly on the floor… God, I lost it. I haven’t felt that level of panic in years. Not since that night when they managed to find us.

I desperately shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Now is not the moment to revisit the past, and it’s definitely not the time to get lost in it.

I rush to his bathroom closet and search for medical supplies, but his shelves are empty. Not even so much as a Band-Aid. I give up looking and hurry toward the door, only stopping when I catch sight of his bag slung across the chair in the corner. I need to get back to Dave, but this might be my only chance to figure out who this guy is once and for all. I snatch open his bag and begin to dig through the contents. It’s filled with nothing but clothes and a few toiletries, and in the very bottom is a roll of athletic tape. I twirl it in my hand for a minute before placing it on top of the ice and heading back to my apartment.

Due to the amazingly cheap doors, I can hear the guys talking and thankfully not brawling.

"I’ve never laid a f*cking hand on her," Dave says adamantly.

"Then what the hell is she so afraid of? Who are you to her?" Adam questions, and even through the door, I can hear the accusation in his tone.

"I’m her family. Now, better question—what are you doing alone in my apartment with her?"

"I’m doing your f*cking job." Adam’s voice lifts menacingly without ever growing louder. "I’m looking out for her. Making sure she’s safe. She’s not okay. I really f*cking hope you recognize that."

Dave doesn’t immediately answer, and I take that as my cue to go inside.

"Hey," I say, looking between the two men.

Dave has moved to the couch, still holding his nose, but his position is relaxed. There is no alarm lingering around him. Adam is still standing only a few feet away, but I suspect his proximity is more to make whispering easier than it is to intimidate. Although, judging by the murderous glare he is flashing between me and Dave, I could be wrong.