Page 24 of Heart Sick Hate

Standing up, I circle the desk and pat Paul on the shoulder. “Yep. If you need anything I’m sure my man here would be more than happy to help you out.”

Paul smirks up at me. I might not agree with his methods, but so long as he continues to get shit done, I don’t give a fuck what he does.

Mandi frowns as I walk past, before stepping into the office and closing the door.

A few people try to stop me on my way out. Everyone’s in the mood to drink, party, and fuck. But just like every day lately, I’m not.

Something’s been off, and I don’t know what the fuck it is. All I know is I’d rather focus on the throbbing of another broken bone or fracture than have to think about it.

It takes twice as long as I’d like to get back to my apartment. And when I do, I’m met with a cold, empty space.

Exactly how I like it.

I strip out of my clothes and hop in the shower to wash off what’s left of the sweat and blood from my fight. Washing my face, my nose throbs a little from Echo’s punch. She got me good for such a tiny thing.

Echo.

Fuck, that girl won’t get out of my head or life lately.

Her judgmental golden eyes and her sweet smile try to hide the fact that she’s a little devil beneath. But I see it. Sunshine bursting through the smoke covering the city. Energy radiating from every pore.

And she’s marrying Rhett?

I figured our dads were forcing them to date long enough for Rhett to take his place in Ryan’s church as the holy son. Then they’d quietly part ways and Rhett would find some submissive preacher-wife-type to have boring sex with on Fridays.

But he’s going full steam with Echo? It doesn’t make sense.

As if it isn’t bad enough for Dad and Rhett to drag her into the peripheral of our family, they’re turning her into a Kingsley for real. That only ends one way—and as much as I hate her most days, I don’t wish my mother’s fate on anyone.

Turning off the shower, I barely have time to slip into sweatpants before I’m heading to the liquor cabinet. Anything to get my mind off what my family is going to do to Echo.

My father used to tell me drowning problems in booze is for the weak. But he’s one to talk. It’s better than his outlets.

Downing a shot of my strongest whiskey, I start to pour another when my phone pings with an alert that someone’s at my door.

No one shows up at my place this late. No one shows up here at all.

People know better when I go through a lot of trouble to make it seem like this place doesn’t even exist. Most of my friends assume I live near the shop since I crash on the couch in the office so often. If Jude hadn’t moved in across the hall, he and Sage wouldn’t even know about it.

My apartment is the one place I can disappear. Which is why I don’t even bring the girls I fuck back here. These walls are for me alone.

Pulling up the live feed, I’m not sure what I expect, but it’s not Echo standing at my doorstep.

She’s still wearing the same black jeans and gray crop top from the fight earlier, but she’s ditched her jewelry, and her hair is down. Like she got halfway to bed and made a different decision.

The one and only time Echo has been to my apartment ended with me getting my nose broken, so I’m not sure why she’s digging her thumbs in her pockets and standing at my door looking like she’s the one who should be nervous.

Or better yet—why she’s here at all.

If it were anyone else, I’d probably ignore it and finish my drink before going to bed. But I’m too damn curious to not walk to the door and find out what she wants. And I’m too damn tempted to make her regret showing up in the first place.

7

Echo

This might be theworst idea I’ve ever had.

Crew probably didn’t even hear me knock. It’s been two minutes, and I’m still standing in front of his door like an idiot, while there’s not so much as a sound coming from the other side. I could still walk away, and no one would have to know I was ever here.

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