Page 37 of Echos and Empires (After #3)

NINETEEN

The sun beat down on the back of Chris’s neck as he walked, the heat still oppressive even in the winter afternoon hours.

If this was even winter on the island, they’d never bothered to ask where they were in relation to the equator.

He kept his pace measured, his expression carefully neutral, but inside, every nerve was stretched taut, thrumming with tension.

Emma moved at a leisurely pace beside him, and he didn’t want to get too far ahead but her slowness seemed to eat at him.

He scanned his surroundings constantly from behind his sunglasses, taking in every passing face, every flicker of movement in his peripheral vision. Out here, even the most innocuous interaction could prove disastrous if he wasn’t careful.

As if summoned by the thought, a familiar figure detached itself from a nearby group and fell into step beside him.

Chris recognized him instantly—Jason, a former dockworker who had been at the first council meeting and on the ship with them.

Someone he hadn’t seen in months. A new boat must have come in.

Strange, wouldn’t that be more of a celebration like when ours came in?

“Afternoon,” Jason said, his tone light but his eyes darting around warily. “Some weather we’re having, huh? Makes you wish for a cold front. Not super thrilled the boat came back today.”

“A new boat came?” Emma practically heaved beside him.

“That’s right. Well, the scouting boat. Main ship will be here in about a day. We always come first, but I don’t expect you to know that since this is your first new arrivals.”

Chris’s mind raced, parsing the seemingly innocuous statement for hidden meaning. Was it a coded message? A warning? He kept his own voice casual as he replied, “Must be that, but I gotta say I’m shocked I didn’t know a new boat was almost here..”

Jason shot him an odd look, and Chris tensed, wondering if he’d mis-stepped. But then the other man chuckled, shaking his head. “Guess you're not quite cool enough yet.”

Chris forced a smile, even as his heart pounded behind his ribs. “Well, we’ve all got our crosses to bear,” he said, hoping the vague platitude would be enough to end the conversation.

Thankfully, Jason took the hint, clapping Chris on the shoulder before peeling off with a wave. But the encounter left Chris shaken, a cold sweat prickling his skin that had nothing to do with the temperature.

It was a stark reminder of the tightrope he walked every day, the constant threat of discovery that hung over his head like a sword of Damocles. One wrong word, one misinterpreted phrase, and everything could unravel.

He thought of the resistance, still so new and fragile, dependent on his ability to navigate these treacherous waters. Then his mind turned to Emma, to the tiny, precious life growing beneath her heart, and a different kind of fear gripped him.

He couldn’t afford to slip up, not even for a second. Too much depended on him, on his ability to play this deadly game without losing himself in the process.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Chris composed himself, pushing down the fear and the doubt and the nagging sense of impending disaster. He had a role to play, and he would play it to perfection.

“You okay?” Emma asked as they walked.

“Honestly? Not a fucking chance, but we have no choice but to act like we are.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything else.

Chris kept her close as they walked, his senses on high alert, scanning for any hint of trouble. It was exhausting, this constant state of hypervigilance, but he knew he couldn’t let his guard down for a moment.

Not when the slightest misstep could bring Victor’s wrath crashing down on all their heads. And if protecting Emma meant living every second on a knife’s edge, then that was a price he would gladly pay.

Even if, sometimes, in the deepest, darkest corner of his heart, he wondered how long he could keep up this charade before it broke him entirely.

By the time they reached the clinic, his mask was firmly in place, the calm, unflappable exterior that had served him so well over the years. Emma took his hand and tugged him to a stop.

“Better?” she asked softly, her hand coming up to rest on his chest.

“Fine,” he assured her, covering her hand with his own.

“Just a lot on my mind. Are you ready to go? To have to defend yourself all over again when I’m right on the other side of the door and can’t.

” Had he not held her hand he would’ve squeezed his together to bleed out some of his fury.

He couldn’t be this pissed off and not create a problem for them.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She patted her pocket. “I’m not sure where I’ll swap this too when I change.”

He gestured for her to pass the loaded syringe to him and when she did, he separated her ponytail of curls just a bit and slipped it in. “Might take a moment to grab it out, but it’s safer there than you trying to move it from hand to hand.”

And I need to know you’re going to come out with all the memories as when you went in.

“Now or never,” Emma gave a deep sigh.

“I’m here, Emma and I swear to god if I hear anything, I’m going to burst through the walls and we’ll get the hell out of here.”

She nodded and went on her tiptoes to kiss him quickly. He held her close, not wanting to admit how scared he was and how fucking impressed she made him with her bravery.

“Let’s go,” she whispered, and took the first steps forward, pulling him closer until the automatic doors slid open.

The clinic waiting room was too quiet, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of turning magazine pages and the distant, muffled sound of a television. Chris sat ramrod straight in the uncomfortable plastic chair, his entire body thrumming with tension, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

He wasn’t sure what had triggered the sudden sense of foreboding, the icy trickle down his spine that told him something was wrong. But as his gaze swept the room, taking in the bored expressions and listless postures of the other patients, he realized what it was.

Or rather, who.

Darius sat across the room, his dark eyes fixed on Chris with an intensity that bordered on predatory.

Victor’s right-hand man, his enforcer and chief asshole as far as Chris had noticed.

The two had a history already, a simmering animosity born of too many close calls and veiled threats since Chris became more important to security.

Seeing him here, now, sent a jolt of pure dread through Chris’s system.

For a moment, neither man moved, locked in a silent battle of wills across the crowded waiting room. Chris kept his expression carefully blank, refusing to give even an inch. But beneath the surface, his mind raced, frantically calculating odds and angles.

“Bet you’re pretty excited to get out of work to play dad.” Darius snickered when Emma went to check herself in.

What did Darius know? Was this a coincidence, or had he somehow gotten wind of Chris’s activities? The possibilities spun out in a dizzying spiral, each more dire than the last.

The moment stretched, taut and brittle, until finally the nurse called Emma’s name. Chris rose smoothly to his feet, never taking his eyes off Darius as he followed Emma back to the exam room.

Chris tried to focus on the doctor’s words, on Emma’s soft voice as she answered questions about her symptoms and concerns. Time seemed to slip away into nothingness, stealing one of the most important moments of his life.

He stared at the grainy black-and-white image on the ultrasound screen, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to make sense of the fuzzy shapes and shadows.

At first, it just looked like abstract static, a meaningless swirl of light and dark.

But then the doctor pointed to a small, pulsing form, and suddenly everything snapped into focus with startling clarity.

“There’s the first heartbeat,” Doctor Larsen said, a smile in her voice. “And right here...” She shifted the wand slightly. “There’s the second one. Congratulations, you two. The twins are perfectly healthy. And probably why the developing cells looked so big in that first scan I took.”

Suddenly, all the air had been sucked out of the room. Twins. He was going to be a father to not one, but two tiny, helpless babies. Two precious lives that would depend on him for everything.

He already knew that, but still, seeing them on screen, watching as she moved the wand from spot to spot on Emma’s stomach sent a dizzying mix of emotions swelling within him—awe, wonder, love so fierce it stole his breath. And then, hard on its heels, a bolt of pure, unadulterated terror.

The full weight of his responsibility came crashing down on him like an avalanche.

It wasn’t just Emma he had to protect anymore.

It was their children, these two miracles currently nestled safe and oblivious beneath her heart.

And the knowledge that he might fail them, that Victor and his twisted regime could snuff out their bright futures before they even began, was enough to bring him to his knees.

Chris’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his fingers pressing into his palms as a cold, implacable rage began to crystallize in his gut.

Victor had already taken so much from him, from all of them.

Had ground their lives and their hopes beneath his boot heel until they were little more than hollow shells, going through the motions of living.

But this... this was a line in the sand. A declaration of war. Because Chris knew, with a bone-deep certainty that shook him to his core, that he would burn the whole damn island to ash before he let that sadistic bastard lay a finger on his family.