Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dahlia
I’m standing in the pasta aisle holding a plastic basket full of things I don’t remember choosing, wondering how I ended up here.
Not the grocery store. I know how that happened. Fallon strong-armed me into leaving the apartment with promises of snacks and sunlight, like I’m a feral cat she’s trying to rehabilitate.
No.
I’m wondering how I ended up involved with someone like Echo.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, I was straddling Echo in my bedroom. Grinding against him like I was trying to fuse our bodies together. Moaning into his mouth while his hands gripped my ass.
And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, I flashed him. I pulled my robe open and showed him my tits just because he asked me to. Not to mention what I did after he left.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I squeeze my eyes shut and press my fingers against my temples. This is exactly why I let Fallon drag me to the grocery store. I need normal and mundane. I need to pick a pasta and make dinner and pretend like I didn’t almost come on my stalker’s lap less than twelve hours ago.
I shift the basket on my arm and stare at the shelves in front of me without really seeing them.
There are too many options, and my brain is too frazzled to commit to any of them.
With the thoughts of what happened with Echo constantly circling, I don’t have the bandwidth to think about anything else.
Fallon disappeared down the frozen foods aisle a minute ago with a dramatic announcement about feening for some ice cream, but I didn’t go with her. I needed to be alone and just think for a little while.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text from Echo.
What are you up to?
I shouldn’t respond, but I do anyway.
Shopping, why?
The response comes immediately.
Not sure if I’d consider staring at the same shelf for two minutes shopping. Tell me, Bambi, are you thinking about me?
My eyes snap up, scanning the aisle frantically. He isn’t anywhere in sight. There’s just a woman comparing sauce jars and an elderly man reaching for a box of linguine.
Are you in here somewhere?
Answer my question first, then I’ll answer yours.
I’m not thinking about anything. I was just dazing off.
That’s a shame. Because I’ve been thinking about you. About how you tasted and how you sounded when you whimpered my name. How wet you were when you—
I lock the screen and shove my phone so hard into my pocket that I almost drop my basket. My face is on fire. And heat is already pooling between my thighs.
This is bad.
This is so fucking bad.
I’m halfway through a mental argument with myself about whether I should leave when a familiar voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Dahlia?”
My spine stiffens.
I recognize that voice.
Josh.
I turn slowly, as if delaying the moment will somehow make it easier to deal with.
Josh stands at the end of the aisle, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket, the other holding a carton of almond milk. His smile is tentative and hopeful in a way that makes me feel awful.
“I thought I saw your car out there.” He says, nodding vaguely toward the front of the store. “I wasn’t sure if it was you.”
Of course he noticed my car. I tighten my grip on the basket. “Yeah. I’m just here grabbing a few things.”
He steps closer carefully, like he’s afraid he might spook me. “You haven’t been answering my calls.” His voice doesn’t sound accusatory. It just sounds… sad. Which makes me feel even worse.
I wince. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Did I do something?” He asks, and the genuine confusion in voice makes me want to scream.
No, Josh. You didn’t do anything. You’re perfectly nice and safe and everything I should want.
The problem is that a month ago I met this killer who won’t leave me alone and yesterday I ended up dry-humping him so hard, I almost came all over him.
“No.” I say honestly. “You didn’t.”
“Then why won’t you talk to me?” He steps closer, and I can see him trying to puzzle me out. “I thought we had something good.”
We had fine at best. Every kiss we ever shared was utterly forgettable. Nothing like what I have with Echo.
I catch the thought and mentally shove it away. I don’t have anything with Echo. Just a weird sexual attraction I need to get out of my system.
“I’ve been thinking.” I say carefully. “And I don’t think it’s fair to keep seeing you when I know this isn’t going anywhere.”
It’s not the full truth, but it’s the closest thing to it that won’t make this completely awkward.
His face falls. “Because of what Nate said? Because I swear, I never called you—”
“It’s not about that.” I assure him, even though it’s partially about that. “I just—I can’t give you what you want.”
His brow knits. “But all I want is you.”
“No.” I say, shaking my head. “You want someone who can love you back. You deserve that. I can’t. I won’t. So it’s better if we just—”
“Let me decide what’s better for me.” He says, cutting me off. There’s an edge to his voice I’ve never heard before. “I’m a patient man, dollface. I’m willing to wait.”
He reaches out for me instinctively, and when I feel his fingers close around my wrist, my world tilts.
His hold isn’t hard or violent. It’s barely even pressure. But my body doesn’t care about that distinction. My chest tightens and my pulse roars in my ears as dark memories slams into me all at once.
Hands holding me still. Hands deciding for me. Hands that wouldn’t let go.
“Josh stop—” I start, but my voice fractures, and his hands stay locked firmly around my wrist. He’s saying something to me, but I can’t hear anything beyond the pounding of my own heartbeat.
Then suddenly, Josh isn’t touching me anymore.
He’s gasping, his face contorted in pain as his arm is pried away and twisted behind his back at an angle that makes my stomach churn.
I look up.
Echo is here, standing right beside me, holding Josh’s arm with what looks like minimal effort.
The look on his face is the same one he had in the alley. Cold. Lethal. And cruel. He looks like he’s calculating exactly how much force it would take to break Josh’s arm and deciding if it’s worth the spectacle.
For a split second, my brain tries to latch onto the other version of him. The one from last night. The one from my phone who checks in on me and asks questions and makes my heart flutter.
Then I look at the expression on his face again, and a cold feeling slithers down my spine.
This isn’t the man who was in my room last night.
This is the one from the alley. The one who stood over four bodies without flinching.
The one who raised his gun and smiled at me like it was some kind of game.
Texting him blurred that image. Softened the edges. Made him feel… safer. But this, this is the real him.
I tighten my grip on the basket, using it as an anchor.
Josh tries to pull away, but Echo’s grip only tightens. “What the fuck, man?” He whines.
“She asked you to stop.” Echo hisses, his voice cold and lethal. “She shouldn’t have to ask twice.”
There’s something about Echo’s tone that makes my blood run cold. If Josh doesn’t stop, he won’t walk out of this grocery store alive.
“Let him go.” I hear myself say.
Echo’s eyes flick to me, and for a second, I think he might not listen. Then, slowly, he releases Josh with a controlled precision that somehow feels more threatening than the violence he just displayed.
Echo’s expression is calm as he steps back and adjusts his cuffs like nothing happened. He doesn’t look like he just grabbed someone at all. He looks like he just dealt with a minor inconvenience.
Josh stumbles back, clutching his arm to his chest. “Are you fucking insane? You could’ve broken my arm, man.”
Echo doesn’t give him a response. Instead, he moves closer to me and wraps his arm protectively around my shoulders.
I can feel the heat radiating off of his body in waves. It’s the same heat I felt yesterday when I was on top of him. When his hands were guiding my hips. When I was so close to coming, I could taste it.
Stop.
Fuck, I need to stop thinking about that.
“You should go.” I tell Josh, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice.
Josh’s eyes dart between us, disbelief hardening into something ugly.
“Are you serious right now?” Josh’s voice cracks. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me? Because of him?”
Yes. I think to myself. But being honest right now feels like I’d be throwing salt on the wound. Still, I need to say something.
“Yes.” Echo answers for me.
My head whips toward him, but if he notices, he doesn’t react.
“She’s mine now.” He continues, his eyes locked on Josh with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. “She has been from the moment we met. Whatever this was?” He says, gesturing dismissively between Josh and me. “Is over.”
The air leaves my lungs. This isn’t just him being protective. This is him marking his fucking territory.
Josh scoffs. “Unbelievable.” His gaze cuts to me, and there’s hurt there, but there’s also a lot of anger. “Dahlia, are you not going to say anything?”
“I’m sorry.” I mumble, shaking my head. “I promise I’ll text you later and explain everything. But please, just go.”
Josh hesitates, his fists curling as his eyes flick between Echo and me, then after a few tense seconds he turns to leave. The moment he’s out of sight, I elbow Echo hard in the stomach and slide out from under his arm.
“Ouch.” He says mildly. “What was that for?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hiss, keeping my voice low. “You can’t just show up here and do that.”
“What? Stop him from touching you without permission?”
“I was handling it.” I hiss.
Echo’s brow furrows. “You were panicking.” He says, his voice softening slightly. “I could see it on your face, Bambi. The second he grabbed you, you froze and started shutting down.”
He’s right, but there’s no way I’m admitting that right now. “That doesn’t give you the right to assault him in the middle of a grocery store.”