Page 52 of Echo, the Sniper (Men of PSI #2)

But he didn’t know I knew he was an imposter.

That gave me an edge, as long as I didn’t blow it.

He held almost all the cards; for starters, I didn’t even know where we were—somewhere near Evergreen was my only estimate.

He had the keys to the car. He also had Mary Jane as backup, whereas I had. .. no one.

I was alone.

Vulnerable.

And he was trying to make me his victim because I held the key to an offshore account that apparently held enough cash to make everyone around me lose their minds. For all I knew, Echo had been the one who set my house on fire to prove my life was in danger and I needed his “protection.”

God, I hated myself for even thinking that. But he’d shown up so conveniently, a Chicago man who was just suddenly there in Denver at two in the morning while my house burned down to the ground.

Why, Echo? Why did you lie to me?

I had to get away, if only to gain some much-needed space to figure everything out.

I needed to escape.

“Rory?”

Someone was targeting me, but it couldn’t have been Echo, the logical part of my brain came to stem the rising hysteria.

He had been in Edward and Josiah’s house when someone had tried breaking into the car I’d been hiding in, and someone had gone through my wallet without stealing anything. I couldn’t afford to ignore that.

And I wouldn’t.

Just as I couldn’t afford to trust Echo now.

The doorknob rattled, making my heart do the same. “Rory, open this door, or I’ll open it for you.”

I had to be smart now.

Smarter than he obviously thought I was.

“I’m okay.” I reached for the door and opened it, well aware I looked like death warmed over. I had no choice but to lean into that as my brain quickly weaved together a plan. “Just... ate too much good food after living off of fast food and nervous energy for the past few days.”

Echo’s face filled with a concern I couldn’t allow myself to believe as I exited the bathroom. “I’m sorry to hear that, baby. I picked up some OTC stuff for indigestion. Would that help?”

God help me, he was sweet. If I had a problem he rushed to fix it, like he genuinely cared. No wonder I’d fallen so hard. “You know, I think I need to walk off that big meal. It’s stopped snowing, yeah?”

His brows shot up. “You... you want to go for a walk ?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of walking off a big meal?”

“Yeah, but not when it’s twenty degrees out.”

“There’s that SoCal man coming through. Coloradans are made of sterner stuff.

” My laugh sounded forced, but I hoped he’d attribute it to an ailing stomach.

And it wasn’t a lie; I was ailing. Just looking at him—with his beautifully sculpted mouth, chiseled cheekbones and gray eyes that seemed so soft and caring as they looked into my soul—made me realize how much I still loved the bastard.

That fact broke me in a way that threatened to buckle my knees.

I wasn’t sure I could survive this betrayal.

But I had to try.

He watched me put my shoes on. “You’re serious? You’re actually going to go for a walk?”

“Just a short one.” Busying myself with shoe-tying and making sure I had my phone with me kept me from looking him in the eye.

“Probably just down the drive to the main road and back. What is that road, anyway?” Sweat broke out along my hairline as a strived for a casual tone, but the fact was I needed to know where I was.

Cellular reception wasn’t the greatest up here, and I couldn’t very well call for a rideshare pickup if I didn’t have an exact address.

There was a weird beat of silence. “Colorado Highway 74, but that’s a good half-mile from where we’re standing. That private drive is a lot longer than you think.”

I was motivated to walk half a mile... if that was actually my target. It wasn’t. “That far? Yikes, I guess I’ll just walk down the drive and turn back once I’m feeling better. Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“And make me feel guilty about dragging your California butt out into the cold?” I threw what I hoped was a wry smile over my shoulder as I left the room and marched determinedly toward the door, picking up my hoodie as I went.

Anything heavier might signal an alarm to him.

“I don’t have the proper shoes for a long hike, so don’t you worry.

I’ll be back as soon as the need to throw up passes.

” Which would be never. The knife of betrayal Echo had stuck in my heart made it impossible for me to imagine wanting to eat—or smile, or enjoy life—ever again.

Ask him , a voice whispered from the ocean of pain that flooded every part of me. Ruthlessly I shut that voice down. How would questioning him make what I heard any less horrifying? The one thing Dane had taught me was to never blindly believe that the man in my life had my best interests at heart.

They didn’t.

Not Dane, and obviously not Echo.

Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation. Just ask him.

I’d get to safety first, I told that pleading voice, gritting my teeth as I reached for the door.

Right now I was at Echo’s mercy, with no way to get myself out of this place on my own.

I’d lived like that with Dane. I would never live like that again.

Once I felt safe, I would get in touch with Echo, and I’d confront him with what I’d uncovered.

As much as I needed to get away and gain space and independence from him, I still wanted to know why he’d lied to me from the beginning. I would ask him. I would.

Just not now.

Now, I could only listen to the one instinct Dane had honed in me—the instinct to survive.

As I swung the front door open, Echo’s hand came down on mine. I couldn’t stop the flinch, while everything in me screamed with the memory of Dane breaking my fingers for daring to open a door.

Don’t break my fingers, please don’t break my fingers...

“Rory. Look at me.”

Steeling myself, I lifted my gaze to his and prayed he couldn’t see the fear there. Don’t cry. Don’t panic. Don’t break. God, please don’t break . “What?”

His free hand cupped my cheek, and he searched my eyes as if trying to read my mind. “You’d tell me if there was anything wrong, yeah?”

You’re the one who shot Dane. You’re the one who inserted yourself into my life along with the news of an offshore account that only I can access. You’re the one who made me love you. Why? Why did you make me love you when you’re nothing but a lie?

“It’s just an upset stomach.” I forced the words out, just like I forced my gaze to lock with his.

My heart broke all over again that this was how it was now—I had to force myself to look at him, when only an hour ago I would have been overjoyed to spend the rest of my life looking at him and no one else. “See you in a bit.”

And I would, I promised that emotional voice in my head as I pulled the hoodie on and walked out into the frigid night, the tingle of his hand still on my cheek. I would see him again to clear the air once and for all. I just had to get to safety first.

Safety was no longer something I had with Echo.