Page 28 of Echoes of You

Nash chuckled. “They’re cute.”

“Whatever,” I huffed. “At least I don’t talk in my sleep.”

“It wasonetime,” he shot back.

“One time that you were so loud you woke yourself up. I had to put up with your weird mutterings the rest of the time.”

Nash used to talk about the most bizarre stuff. Like whether zombies might invade or if there was life on Mars.

“You’re a little liar,” he quipped.

“Whatever makes you feel better…”

My phone dinged on my nightstand, and I reached out to snag it. As I scanned the text message, my good mood vanished.

Adam

I’ve had enough of your little games, Madison. Don’t make me come find you…

I felt the blood drain from my face, and Nash instantly reached for my cell. “What the hell? Has this creep been texting you?”

His gaze roamed over the text history. There were only three other messages. None were outright threats, but I could read between the lines. Nash cut his gaze to me. “Did you text him back?”

“You know I didn’t.”

He could see that right on the screen.

“Why haven’t you blocked him?” Nash demanded.

That was a great question, and one with a difficult answer to explain.

“Mads?” he pushed.

I twisted the sheet between my fingers. “If I let the texts come through, then I at least know where his head is at. How mad he is. If he’s still looking for me. I can be prepared.”

Nash’s expression softened. “It’s a defense.”

I nodded. “It was always better if I knew what was coming. If I could try to defuse it before things got too bad. That didn’t always work, but sometimes, it did.”

A muscle fluttered in Nash’s cheek. “I get that. I hate it, but I get it.” He studied me for a moment. “Are you going back to Atlanta? Back to him?”

I jerked. “No.”

“Good,” he gritted out. “Then you don’t need to know where the asshole’s head is at because he’s out of your life. You don’t have to worry about him at all.”

My ribs tightened as panic grabbed hold. “It’s not that simple. I need to know where he is or what he might be planning. It’s safer if I know.” It was the same reason I religiously checked his social media.

Nash’s expression gentled as he lowered my phone to the mattress. “The first thing we tell victims of abuse is to remove any way for their abuser to contact them. Any reaction will only encourage him. If his emails bounce back, and his calls don’t connect, we could defuse the situation, and you would truly be free.”

Blood pulsed in my ears as my palms dampened. Was it really that easy? One setting change, and he would be gone?

Nash’s hand covered mine. “Please, Maddie. Trust me. I’ve seen this kind of thing before. This is our best option if you don’t want to file a report or get a restraining order.”

I pulled my hand from his and picked up my phone. Tapping on Adam’s contact, I hit the block option and then held it out to Nash.

He took the device and then squeezed my hand. “You did the right thing. You’ll start to feel lighter now that you don’t have to worry about hearing from him.”

I thought about how I was always in a state of bracing—waiting for the phone to ding or Adam to show up around any corner. Sometimes, he’d wait outside my workout class or show up at the coffee shop, saying that he just wanted to surprise me. But it never felt like a happy surprise. It seemed like I was under surveillance.

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