Page 5 of Echo, the Sniper (Men of PSI #2)

Getting to Know You

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Echo

T HE SUN WAS FULLY UP by the time Rory was discharged from the hospital.

I’d taken the time to hit a twenty-four-hour Walmart to pick up a few changes of clothes for her so that she didn’t have to keep wandering around the city of Denver in nothing but a nightgown and a Mylar blanket.

The Uggs were still in place, and she walked with a faint limp on her wrapped ankle, but other than a heavily bandaged hand—I’d picked up supplies to take care of that as well—she was good to go.

I glanced at my charge as she came to a stop in the ER’s vestibule.

It was amazing, the difference a handful of hours could make.

The smudges of soot that had been smeared across her face were now gone, revealing the world’s most perfect peaches-and-cream complexion, as flawless as a child’s.

I had never seen any blonde that made me think of a Barbie doll, but that was exactly what Rory’s hair looked like—shiny and pale, the color of cornsilk, and falling almost to the middle of her back in subtle waves that made it curl under at the ends.

My fingers itched to sift through it every time I glanced her way, to the point where I had to stuff my hands into my pockets to keep from being the world’s biggest creeper.

It had been a tangled mess when I’d first found her standing in an icy puddle—understandable, since she’d awoken to find she had to jump out a second-floor window in order to survive.

But somewhere along the way she’d obviously asked for a brush or comb when she’d gone to change her clothes.

Who knew that a brush could work such magic?

The jeans I’d picked out for her were a little on the loose side, though I had picked up the size she’d said she was.

I thought it best to keep things simple since I didn’t know what the future would hold for her, so in addition to a couple pairs of jeans, I’d also gotten her some T-shirts and hoodies, along with a pair of sneakers, packs of socks, underwear and a couple sports bras.

She probably wasn’t the type to buy underwear in thrifty, utilitarian packs from Walmart, but there was no way I was going to get anything more colorful than that.

There was only so much a man could take.

She’d chosen to pair a plain white T-shirt with a zip-up blue hoodie a couple shades lighter than her deep blue eyes. With her bandaged hand stuffed into the hoodie’s pocket she could have easily been mistaken for a visitor to the ER, not a patient.

Things could only get better from here.

“First things first,” I said when she didn’t move, or even look at me.

Not surprising. She’d been through a wringer and then some.

“Shelter and safety. Someone at PSI will give us an address of a safehouse once they’ve scrounged one up, but for right now I’ll get us a hotel so you can get some rest and start the healing process. ”

“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, from pulling me out of a freezing puddle to finding clothes for me to wear.

” At last those deep blue eyes found mine, and I wondered if she knew she had the power to knock a man sideways with just a single glance from those helpless kitten eyes.

Probably. “I do have a little money stashed away, so if you could send me the bill for what I owe you for the clothes, I’ll do my best to pay you back. ”

I frowned. That wasn’t what I’d been expecting at all. “Like I said, your late husband set this up. It’s paid for.”

“With dirty money.” She grimaced, and for a second I thought I glimpsed a flash of terrible rage in those knockout eyes.

“That’s why I can’t accept it. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve been invaluable these past few hours, and I’m grateful you were there in the middle of the night for me to lean on. But, um, how to put this...”

“Put what?”

“Your services are no longer required.”

Holy shit, she was firing me. “PSI’s policy is to see the job through once it’s been paid for.

It doesn’t matter if you accept it or not, you’re going to be protected by me, whether I’m by your side and you can somewhat control that narrative, or I’m following you around remotely, doing everything possible to keep you safe. ”

She grimaced again, clearly not liking either possibility.

“Look, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an ungrateful jerk, but the truth is I don’t know you.

You just appeared out of nowhere at two o’clock in the morning, and I was too much in shock over everything to question why on earth you were suddenly in my life.

I didn’t hire you. It’s hard for me to imagine that Dane would hire someone to watch over me, because half the time I was little more than an afterthought for him, and the other half he made me wish I was just an afterthought.

I don’t even know if PSI is actually a thing that exists, and I can’t look it up on my phone because my phone is in my burned-out house.

I’m very uncomfortable with the idea of climbing into a vehicle with you and heading off to heaven knows where, so it’s not going to happen.

I’m sorry, but this is where we part ways. ”

That was an interesting nugget she’d revealed about her crappy former husband, but now wasn’t the time to mine it.

“Then shadowing you from afar it is. Just so you know, your life is about to get a lot more aggravating, since I will now approach everyone who talks to you to verify who they are, what they do and how they know you. And as for verifying PSI is actually a thing...” I dragged out my phone and held it out to her. “Feel free to look it up.”

She didn’t move, instead choosing to eye the phone like it was a pissed-off rattlesnake.

“Right.” Careful not to touch her injured hand, I caught her by the wrist and pulled her back toward the ER’s central desk area. “Excuse me, could my friend borrow your phone for a couple minutes? This was the burn patient who came in because of a house fire. Her phone is still in her house.”

“Oh.” A flash of sympathy went across the nurse’s face before she picked up her phone from the desk, unlocked it and handed it over. “Of course. Just let me know if I need to get a case manager down here to talk to you about working with the Red Cross to get you whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” Clearly on automatic, Rory took the phone, glanced over at me, then began typing awkwardly with her uninjured hand.

A few seconds later she clicked on something, scrolled for a bit, then stopped.

“‘ List of Private Security International Partners... Ethan Esteban Echols, Master Sergeant. Army Ranger. MP. Specializing in sniper and/or long-range threat assessment. Personal bodyguard for high-profile individuals. Courier services for case-sensitive materials. Anti-terrorism training at Quantico —’”

“Sorry, I’m afraid I need my phone back.

” The nurse hopped up and grabbed the phone even as the PA system overhead called a code blue and people began running down a side hallway.

I gave the organized chaos a glance before locking in on Rory, whose gaze was also glued to what was going on down the hall.

If the tension in her deep blue eyes could have made a sound, it would have been the sound of screams.

“Are you really real?” I almost didn’t hear her over the din down the hall.

To my shock, those thin words did something to me that nothing in this godforsaken world had ever managed to do before.

They tore at my heart until all I could do was feel—feel her worry, her pain, and her belief that she had no one left in the world to believe in.

I’d never heard a lonelier sound in my life.

“I’m real.” Just in case that fact wasn’t sinking in, I took my wallet out and handed over my ID. “Ethan Esteban Echols. Easiest monogram in the world.”

A huff of what could have been a laugh escaped her before she gave back my ID. “And you just... happened to show up at two in the morning, with your Spidey sense tingling that I was in trouble?”

“Two weeks ago it was reported that your car was vandalized. These things happen, so there was nothing to do but monitor the situation. I flew down from Chicago, my home, last week to get a lay of the land, spot any obvious dangers that might be around you, and to set up a couple cameras to keep a remote eye on you. Luckily those cameras detected the fire in your garage and alerted me and the rest of PSI. Your Vigilance alarms weren’t going off, so we called it in. ”

“Wow,” she said faintly, shaking her head and then gingerly touching the back of her head where I knew she had a painful lump. “Thank you.”

“I don’t deserve your thanks. I should have found a way to approach you sooner, so I’m sorry. It was my fault you got hurt in that fire.”

“Wow again,” she whispered, staring at me as if she’d never seen me before. “A man who apologizes. How freaky.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Again she shook her head, this time much more carefully. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s the fault of the person who set the fire. Or fires I should say. Please don’t blame yourself.”

“Easier said than done.”

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand.

Well, to be honest there’s a metric ton of things I don’t understand,” she added with a wry twist to her plump little mouth.

If there had ever been a more kissable mouth, I couldn’t imagine it.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t just introduce yourself to me.

Why did you feel it was necessary to watch over me remotely? ”

Because there wasn’t any scenario where a face-to-face meeting between the two of us could lead to anything other than a clusterfuck of monumental proportions. That was still something that loomed large on the horizon, but I’d jump off that bridge when I got to it. “I had my reasons.”

“Such as?”