26. XXVI
XXVI
Echo
M y vision sharpened on the woman in my arms, the last fragments of slumber threatening to desert me, no matter how much I wanted to stay.
Spencer remained in restful sleep, my dick still settled inside her. The knowledge caused warmth to raise beneath my skin.
Gently, I retracted myself, our cum seeping between us as she barely stirred. Using the opportunity, my gaze roved over her clear, angled face as streams of sunlight filtered through the curtains. Spencer was stuck in a dream, her expressive features sparking with a light giggle. She had me undone with the sound alone.
Sometimes, when I forgot to lift that internal guard against her, I was bulldozed, completely fucking demolished by her unfiltered authenticity. She was brash, unpredictable, a total savage… But above all, she was real. All attributes I reluctantly respected.
Unfortunately, those weren’t the attributes that posed the biggest threat. It was the little things, the everyday life things that snuck up on me.
The forced, innocent face she’d make when I’d catch her snooping, or when her features flashed with amusement, messaging her sisters. And even when her nose scrunched in annoyance whenever I did something to piss her off.
Those were the moments that were the most dangerous—when she wasn’t even trying. Within those small snapshots, that’s when I couldn’t deny it. That deep down, I could feel myself falling, and I knew all too well what would happen if I hit rock bottom.
My soul fractured into pieces, each jagged shard crushed and destroyed by her.
I refused to ever come close to feeling that way again. There was a reason I left my old identity behind and reinforced myself into a fierce, unforgiving leader.
Spencer wasn’t some innocent teenage crush—she was much more treacherous. She alone had the power to take and hold all of me within the palm of her hands, and if she let me go, it wouldn’t just break me… It would fucking ruin me.
Last night was earth-shattering, damn life-changing. It had my muscles drawn tight at the inevitable switch. Heaviness settled into my bones, her pleasant weight anchoring me to the earth. I wanted, craved, fucking coveted her to the extreme…and I was paralysed with fear.
Terror cascaded through my body, my lungs expanding at the rate of an overrun motor, oxygen not reaching my bloodstream fast enough to filter out the toxic emotion clogging my veins.
Coherency lingered out of reach, my mind disassociating from the present. I knew I was experiencing what others called a panic attack—not that the knowledge helped in the least. All I knew was that the world was about to end if I didn’t get my shit together.
I can’t breathe.
I was out of bed, bent over with hands on my knees, hyperventilating when immediate pain lanced across my face.
“Snap out of it,” said a sleepy voice.
My breath caught as I laid eyes on Spencer in her dishevelled state, wearing nothing—absolutely nothing . She sat on the edge of the bed, the rumpled sheets beneath her making me want to repeat all the things I did to her the night before.
Reaching up to hold my stinging cheek, I managed to splutter, “Ouch, bitch.”
“You were losing your shit. I brought you back to me,” she said, so blasé and straightforward, my thought process glitched.
“ Back to…you?”
Her eyes drilled into me, all-knowing and fucking terrorising. “When are you going to admit it to yourself, Echo?”
“Admit what?”
Spencer jolted to her feet like a naked, sexy avenging angel (or should I say devil), and with each step she took towards me, I took one back. Her presence was drawing me in, and once I was caught, I knew I’d never be able to escape. My back hit her closet door— trapped.
“Admit you want me. Want this. ” She reached for my cold, stiff hand, laying it over the centre of her chest, and with that one long second of contact, the path of our life was paved before me.
Then, reality set in, causing it all to crash to the ground alongside the shattered glass that was cutting into the bottoms of our feet.
SPENCER
Echo remained transfixed, his fingers tightening over my sternum. I could see the world imploding behind his eyes, the contrasting happiness and fear writhing and clashing in their depths.
I could feel him slipping away, which was a non-option for me. I wanted him to admit what was happening between us. To prove that I wasn’t deluding myself into something that didn’t exist.
We had been culminating to that very moment, a sense of clarity slamming me in the face when we physically claimed each other. I was a strong, independent bitch who wasn’t afraid of anything. When I wanted something, I fucking got it. And I had finally come to the stark realisation that I wanted him .
After our intense intimacy and our sense of connection, I was ready to jump, but I didn’t want to do it alone.
I stepped further into his space, my forehead pitching forward to connect with his bare chest, and I whispered my strength into his skin, “Be brave.”
My words ignited a livewire through his frame, Echo slipping out of our embrace to create space.
His features contorted with a multitude of emotions—affection, longing, apprehension, distress, then panic before his expression hardened into a mask of unrelenting steel.
“You trapped me into this,” he said, and I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Here we go. “Don’t give me that smartass attitude, Spencer!”
Echo paced, ripping at his hair, and I couldn’t help but snicker at his expense. “You’re too weak to admit what you want.”
He stopped frozen, hazel eyes bulging out of their sockets. “You never gave me a fucking choice! Want this?” he asked, pointing at me. “I don’t even want you.”
It was a lie. A well-built illusion he told himself in order to keep his barriers secure and in place. But in his desperation to save himself, his cruel intentions hit their mark. Each syllable cut into me as if I was dealt with tangible strikes that left me battered and bruised.
Still, he wasn’t finished, always ready to make that final blow.
Echo opened his mouth one more time, nailing me with his scathing venom. “I’m taking responsibility for my mistakes like I was ordered to.”
I snapped. Bypassing the sad existence of a man, I stormed into the kitchen, leaving bloody footprints in my wake. I’d barely registered my missing bedroom walls, the jagged pieces of frosted glass piercing my feet.
With the current rage taking over my body, that was the least of my worries. I’d endured worse—especially from him.
Continuing with my outburst, I collected three knives sitting cosy in their wooden block.
Bout time you were put to good use.
Echo stalked after me. He should have known better than to follow. Without looking at my target, I pivoted fast, the blade releasing from my palm with accurate precision. Echo dodged just in time, the edge slicing across his bicep rather than imbedding into his chest.
I huffed, red hair floating in front of my face.
Echo swiped a hand over the gash, skin stained with blood. “You’re one crazy fucking bitc?—”
Before he could finish the statement, I launched another knife his way, this one aimed for his dick. Echo was livid, features turned rabid as he jolted over the bench to restrain me, the blade barely missing his hardening length. Which I am happy to remove.
I laughed at his foolish attempt and skirted out of reach, flipping him my middle finger. Spinning my last knife in my hand, I arched a mocking brow. “Who is she?”
“Who?”
“This girl who has you in a chokehold. Let me think, it starts with a?—"
“Don’t say her fucking name.” Echo flinched, trying and failing to regain his composure.
“Tell me who she is.”
He raised a fierce finger, pointing at me in an aggressive fashion. But before he could advance, I slashed downward, a deep laceration carving across his palm.
“FUCKKKKK!” Echo roared.
I smirked. “Point that finger at me again, and you’ll lose it.” Echo’s face reddened, speckles of ruby red staining his trembling form as the multiple cuts continued to leak. “As long as you give her power, we can never move forward. I’m not going to stay with someone who’s hung up on an ex.”
His features turned grotesque, giving me his hateful eyes. “Aster had no right to tell you about Camilla. About my fucking business.”
Camilla? Fuck her.
“She didn’t have to. You emotionally damaged fucking man-child! When are you going to get it through your thick fucking skull?!” I seethed, raising the point of the knife to tap against my temple. “Your business is my business… And if I find out who this Camilla bitch is, I’ll kill her .”
Echo remained dumbstruck as I stalked him, twirling the blade until it was aimed directly centre of his sternum. “I don’t give a fuck who she is. I swear, I’ll kill her—like you tried killing me, by stabbing her in the fucking heart—all for what she’s doing to us.”
Echo came out of his inanimate state with a jolt. “Us? You think there’s an us ? Playing house and acting like we’re some fake happy couple when we fucking hate each other?”
My insides crumbled from his scathing words, as brutal and savage as physical blows. Stepping back, I retreated, putting as much space between us as possible—which wasn’t much, my legs hitting the bench behind me.
“Can you be real?” I asked. “Real for one miserable fucking second. Are you even sorry for what you did to me?” My tone displayed the vulnerability that had me overtaken—an emotion completely unfamiliar and alien. I loathed the weakness he sought out of me.
Instead of giving me reassurance, Echo once again proved himself reliable in his vicious denial.
“You want me to be sorry for all I’ve done?” He outstretched his arms, giving me a clear shot. “Ghost, I am the total sum of all my soulless deeds. I may go to hell, but I’ll never apologise for making you belong to me. You are mine in every way that matters .”
“As you are mine,” I said, the statement simple, yet all-supreme.
Echo’s face fell, and for the first time since the night before, pure sincerity shone over his face. “ No . I will never be yours.”
ECHO
Spencer’s hand tightened on the handle of her blade as her critical green stare shifted in and out of focus. I had given her the truth as I knew it. No matter how much I wanted it, wanted to be hers… I had nothing worthwhile left to give.
“ Coward,” she whispered. Then, louder, her tone enhanced with clarity. “You’re a gutless fucking pussy, Echo. Scared of an unknown future that you’re not even willing to fight for.”
“Give it to me, sweetheart, I can take it,” I said with a cocky grin. I didn’t know why I said that—I well and truly couldn’t take it, my nerves short-circuiting from the raw true words she was force-feeding down my throat.
As expected, my breathtaking warrior squared up to my bold taunt. When did I become such a masochistic bastard? The easy answer blared me into silence.
If I can’t have her love, I’ll settle for her hate.
Although I’d never admit my dependence, I’d do everything in my power to ensure she remained a persistent presence. Living off what little crumbs she left behind, I’d happily lap them up and impatiently wait for more.
Spencer didn’t disappoint, blasting me in kind, her skin blazing red with rage. “You want to live in the past, go right ahead, but I won’t be there with you. I’m moving on. Stay in your memories. Relive your fucking hurt, pain and trauma on repeat. Because that’s all you’ll have in the end. Regrets !”
She thundered towards her room, an excess of curse words leaving her lips. I moved on autopilot, naturally wanting to pursue.
“Don’t follow me, Echo. I’m serious,” Spencer warned, waving her knife in the air. As if that would be enough of a deterrent for me to stay away. Trails of blood continued to track down my body, but I didn’t care. I was the most alive I’d ever been in my life, and it always came down to her. That bewitching woman with the ferocious tongue of a serpent and a pussy made of the sweetest candy. My kryptonite.
Spencer entered her walk-in closet and slammed the door behind her, the glass vibrating from the impact. I immediately rammed through the barrier, muscles bulging from the inevitable fight. Then, she was on me, around me, fucking pushing into me, her heated flesh skating across mine as she shoved me backwards, a long gash slicing down my torso.
“Get the fuck out before I do something I regret. Seriously, Echo, get the fuck gone. I’m not keeping you!”
I didn’t know whether it was the added pain from my new injury, the sight of my blood splattering over her naked front or the genuine hatred beaming from her distorted face. No matter our history, I’d never seen her like that.
Which irrevocably snapped the last tether to my dwindling patience. I watched the scene play out as a third party, unable to control my body as it moved without instruction while malice spat from my mouth without a command.
“Why the fuck should I leave?! This is my home, not yours . Invading my space, my brain, every fucking inch of my goddamn life. Why couldn’t you stay dead? ”
My Variant ignited without a trigger from me, the endless tunnel of rage unintentionally bringing my ability forth as protection, causing infrasound to puncture her skin with the pressure of a million spiked barbs, resulting in acute pain.
Spencer grew rigid from the sensation. I had only ever used my Variant to give her blinding pleasure. It was the first time I’d ever used an offensive manoeuvre on her. Accident or not, I fucking hated myself for it.
Spencer held firm, stance aggressive, expression frigid, grip tight on the knife handle held high between us. “Say it again,” she said. There she stood, a fierce, ferocious fucking goddess. “I fucking dare you, Echo. Because I swear, you say one more word against me, and I will leave and never come back.”
Her statement triggered my hands to cup her face and pull her mouth to mine.
It wasn’t a kiss, it was a claiming.
My lips synchronised with hers, tongues clashing for dominance. I pushed her against the wall, pressing between her legs, my flesh igniting from every inch of contact where her body touched mine. I was a gluttonous fool as I fed on whatever she was willing to give.
Distantly, I processed the tip of her knife digging into my abs, the pain inciting our joint pleasure to immeasurable heights. Her moans mixed with mine as her free hand raked down my back, nails carving grooves down my spine, adding to my multitude of injuries. The assault drove me crazy, since all I could process was that I was fucking desperate for more.
I kissed, devoured and explored her until I erased those words from her lips, swallowing them down alongside her lustful whimpers.
Our mouths disconnected, only with enough distance to breathe the same air.
I wanted no one else—nothing else in my life, only her. The alarming revelation resounded with noxious intent, and I wanted to pummel her into the ground from the unwanted reliance.
So, before my stunned brain could compute the significance, I spoke without regard, without remorse.
“Leave,” I whispered, that one word sealing our fate. My fate, as sudden, immense pain punctured my stomach, accompanied by the cool sensation of steel parting flesh. Spencer stared deeply into my eyes, her green orbs relentless in their deliverance as she stabbed deep and true.
Blood seeped from my lips, running down my chin as I faltered to my knees, clutching onto the handle protruding from my abdomen.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Her parting statement penetrated deeper than any blade ever could. Spencer turned on her heel and without a backward glance, walked away, leaving me bleeding out in the hallway.
I coughed, collapsing to the ground, unconsciousness calling me back to where it was safe, where I always wanted to be.
And as the love of my life raced out of our apartment and out of my life, I whispered the one word I was so scared to utter, the one syllable I was so terrified to speak into existence—entirely too late.
“Stay.”