Page 41 of Echo, the Sniper (Men of PSI #2)

We Need to Talk

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I T WAS ALMOST DAWN by the time Echo pulled the newly rented black Jeep Wrangler up to a picture-perfect mountain chalet.

A wraparound cedar deck overlooked the winding drive and a snow-covered meadow crisscrossed with tracks of deer and other animals.

The house’s foundation looked to be made of river rock, as did the chimney, but everything else was cedar and glass, with the main focal point being the triangular two-story prow-shaped feature that was made entirely of smoke-tinted glass.

Behind the house, dark evergreen trees spiked toward the lightening pearlescent sky, and the frigid mountain air carried their crisp pine scent as Echo and I lugged bags full of supplies up the deck’s cedar stairs.

It was too beautiful of a place to be in a bad mood, yet here I was managing it like a champ.

I had been too tired to talk during the forty-minute drive west from Denver.

Like all-the-way-to-my-soul kind of tired.

I thought we could possibly be somewhere around Evergreen, but at the moment I was too exhausted to care.

All I wanted right now was a hot bath and a warm bed, in that order, and I was more than content to table everything for a few hours.

Maybe that meant I was too stupid to understand the situation.

Another jab of hurt blistered through me, feeding the dark anger that growled inside.

I gritted my teeth against the pain of it as I dropped my share of supplies on a long leather couch covered in a bright Native American blanket, and looked around the open-plan living space.

The interior was modern log-cabin, with the golden glow of cedar everywhere I looked.

A peninsula-style counter separated the kitchen area from the living room, with a small round dining table off to the far side of the room.

On the other side yawned a darkened hallway, which I assumed led to the bathrooms and bedrooms.

Then again, assuming anything was probably what a stupid person would do.

Argh.

I really needed to stop thinking like that.

“It’s possible we’re going to have a colleague from PSI joining us in a day or two, if we haven’t already wrapped this case up.

” The sound of Echo’s voice—something I haven’t heard since Denver—hit the atmosphere like a hammer, and it made me jump.

“Mary Jane Case is the one who rented this place out for us to use as a safehouse. I wish she’d been with us last night so that I wouldn’t have had to leave you alone in the car.

As soon as she arrives, I promise you’ll never be left on your own again. ”

That sounded... not fun. “Okay.”

He dropped the dozen or so grocery bags on the counter, then braced his hands on its edge. “We need to talk about what happened.”

“We made progress. Edward and Josiah are probably in custody by now. We also know that all the insanity that’s hit my life has to do with money.

” I kept my face meticulously blank, refusing to let all the hurt and anger surface.

No doubt if I gave him even a glimpse of what I was actually feeling, he’d accuse me of being childish and stupid for not understanding the situation.

Been there, done that, hated every second of it.

No way was I going to feed that familiar troll.

“Later on I’ll dig around in our digital filing server and try to figure out who else would have known about Dane’s secret offshore account.

But right now I need sleep before I do anything else. ”

A flicker of what looked like frustration darkened his eyes before he nodded grudgingly. “Go ahead, then. I still have to put everything away and set up some of our own security equipment around the perimeter, but I’ll be in with you in about an hour.”

“No.” It was out before I could stop it.

He froze. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’m going to sleep on my own, by myself, and you’re going to sleep on your own, by yourself.” Calm, unemotional, as cool as the snow-covered scene beyond the windows. I may be stupid, but I knew better than to show my hurt to someone who would just use it to twist the knife deeper.

No, that’s Dane, not Echo , a voice whispered inside me, but I shut it down.

I didn’t want to hear it. I’d told Echo how Dane had started calling me stupid during our wedding reception and how much it had hurt, so what did Echo do?

The first chance he got, he used the same damn knife to stab me in that same sore place.

No more.

I was so done.

“Rory.” Abandoning the bags of groceries, he rounded the counter and came toward me.

I moved to put the couch between us, and again he stilled.

Watchful, eyes narrowing. Calculating just how much damage had been done.

Too much to calculate, asshole . “You see? This is what I meant,” he said, his voice so velvety soft it hurt me somewhere in my chest just to hear it.

“This is why we need to talk, so that it won’t happen again. ”

“There’s nothing to say.” He’d said it all, and then some. If he had anything more to add, I had a terrible feeling I’d have no choice but to strangle him. I already had breaking-and-entering—and tying Josiah up—on my imaginary rap sheet. The last thing I wanted to do was add homicide to it.

No matter how justifiable it might have been.

“You should know that I’ve got a huge character flaw,” he plowed on, disproving my whole there’s-nothing-to-say theory.

“I’m a quiet guy most of the time, but I mouth off when I’m either angry or freaked out.

I was both when I saw you come into Armstrong’s backyard.

I should have realized something was wrong and asked you what you were doing there, but I didn’t.

I popped off, and was totally out of line the moment I opened my dumbass mouth. ”

That made me pause. Were my ears deceiving me, or did the man just admit he’d done something wrong? I almost couldn’t believe it. “I didn’t feel safe in the car, so I decided it was best to hide out in the area that you’d already swept for trouble. That’s where I was going to wait for—”

“I know. I get it now, I swear. But Rory, I made sure before I left that all the doors were locked. Your best play would have been to stay put while calling me for help.”

“I didn’t remember you locking the car. I still don’t have any memory of you—”

“I know, I know.” He held up his hands, palms out. “I did it manually, so your memory’s not faulty. I can’t imagine how scared you must’ve been, knowing someone’s trying to kill you, and suddenly there’s someone right outside, trying to get into a car that you believed wasn’t secure.”

I tried my best to tamp down the remembered terror. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared, for that prolonged length of time, in my entire life.”

“Is that why you didn’t call or text me?” he asked, his voice low and gentle. Like he was talking to a wild animal he wanted to tame. “You were so scared you blanked on the instruction to call for help if you needed it?”

That made my internal quaking harden. Was that another jab at my mental deficiency? Probably. “The instruction you gave was specifically to not call or text you unless in an extreme case of emergency. Direct quote, by the way.”

“I think this scenario would have qualified.”

“What if it had been nothing more than a kid looking to nab hubcaps or a sound system? That would hardly fall into the category of extreme .”

“Anyone trying to get into a car that you are already occupying is a huge fucking emergency, Rory.”

“Even if that person doesn’t know I’m there? Even if that person has nothing to do with me?”

“The point is that you didn’t know that.

You still don’t. Neither do I. The only thing we know for sure is that someone’s trying to kill you, so everyone from here on in should be looked at as the enemy, understand?

You need to help me keep you safe by realizing everyone is a potential goddamn killer, so the next time something like this happens, you’re not sitting there splitting hairs between emergency and extreme emergency , and not fucking calling me for help! ”

Damn it, this argument wasn’t going my way, because he was making too much sense. “Look, I handled it on my own—”

“But you didn’t have to do it on your own.

What if you’d escaped the car, only to end up in the clutches of the person who’s hunting you?

What then? I’ll tell you what,” he answered his own question before I could cobble together a suitable reply.

“I would have come back to an empty car with no fucking clue what had happened or where you were, and your body wouldn’t have been found until spring thaw.

And that thought makes my blood... run.. . cold .”

I bit my lips together and decided in that moment I’d never admit I’d thought the exact same thing. “So... next time, I’ll stay in the car and have faith that you manually locked all the doors.”

His teeth snapped together loud enough for me to hear. “Next time, if there is a next time, you’ll call me to let me know you’re in danger.”

“You said yourself that you needed your phone to be dark so your presence wouldn’t be detected. No matter how dark your screen is, any contact from me would have lit it up and put you in danger.”

“I know what I said.” Scowling, he crossed his powerful arms across his chest. “But you were in far more danger than I was. I can handle myself.”

“And I can’t, right? Because I’m too stupid to take care of myself?”

His lips pulled back, but I couldn’t tell if it was a wince or a baring of teeth. “In this particular case, you made the wrong choice to not call for help. Not stupid. Wrong . And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why you made that choice.”