13. echo #4
Malakai had already gotten bored with the silent part of the conversation.
He stole the pen I had just pulled from my bag, rolled it across his knuckles, and started telling Hunter about Lacey Durant before I could decide whether I wanted him to.
He did it badly, naturally. Somewhere in his version, I had apparently dismantled an extortion empire before lunch while barefoot and wounded, and Priya had been seconds away from indentured servitude.
I let him talk until Hunter finally looked at me for the version that had any chance of resembling reality.
“Priya owed somebody a favor,” I explained.
“The woman changed the terms after Priya had already started paying it back, then tried to use an old access log to force her into giving up information about me and the three of you. We found enough other people she’d done the same thing to that keeping the threat alive became more expensive than dropping it.
Priya got the original record, Lacey deleted the copy she was using, and nobody died. You should be proud.”
Hunter did not look proud. He looked interested. “Why were you involved?”
“Because Priya was being squeezed over something she never agreed to.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
I stopped reaching for the pen Malakai kept moving out of range and looked at Hunter properly. His tone had changed just enough that I knew he was not asking whether I had been bored, curious, or looking for an excuse to interfere. There was a structure underneath the question.
“She’s my friend,” I said. “Somebody decided that made her easy to use. They were wrong.”
Hunter rested one forearm on the desk. “Are you protecting her?”
The wording made me glance toward him again. “Apparently.”
“I’m asking because that means something here, Echo. If you step between Priya and anyone who comes after her, use your access to settle her problems, and make people believe they have to go through you to reach her, then you’re claiming responsibility whether you bother naming it or not.”
That finally got me to close the book I had barely opened. Hunter was telling me I had just stepped into another rule nobody had bothered explaining because most people at Aldrich had grown up knowing it.
He continued before I could dismiss it. “Protection isn’t just telling somebody to back off because you like the person they’re bothering.
It means if Priya makes a promise under your name, creates a debt she can’t settle, or damages someone who believes you stand behind her, they can come to you.
Same goes for anyone else you decide belongs under that umbrella. You inherit part of the consequence.”
I understood the structure once he spelled it out. “Fine,” I said, settling back into the chair. “Then she’s protected.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You should probably think about that longer than three seconds.”
“I did think about it. Priya is still Priya after your explanation, so the answer didn’t change.”
Malakai stopped playing with my pen. I felt the shift beside me without looking at him, but I kept my attention on Hunter because I had a feeling we were not done.
“What about Devon and Maren?”
That took another few seconds, mostly because I was annoyed he had a point.
Devon had already started showing up around me without asking permission.
Maren had helped pull names for Priya without hesitating.
If somebody had tried the same thing with either of them this morning, I would have done exactly what I had done for Priya and complained afterward when Hunter explained another institutional consequence nobody had included in orientation.
“They’re mine too,” I said. “If that’s the language you people use, then fine. All three.”
Hunter stared at me long enough to make it obvious he had expected at least some resistance once the responsibility became real. “You understand that one of them can create a problem you have nothing to do with and still drag it to your door.”
“I heard you the first time. I’m not agreeing because I think they’re incapable of fucking up. Everybody fucks up. I’m agreeing because if somebody comes for them, they’re already going to end up dealing with me. We may as well save everyone the confusion.”
That seemed to satisfy something in Hunter, although satisfaction on him looked annoyingly similar to concern. He picked his pen back up and opened the folder in front of him again, dismissing the conversation without pretending the decision had been casual just because I had made it quickly.
I reached for my own pen at the same time and found Malakai still holding it. He looked at me for a moment, quieter than he had been since we walked in, then set it carefully on top of my book instead of making me fight him for it.
That was strange enough that I looked at him.
He grinned before I could ask, ruining whatever had almost happened. “Your boots are still ugly.”
I shoved him off the arm of my chair with both hands. He caught himself against the side table, laughing while I opened my book again, and Hunter told us both to shut the fuck up without lifting his head.