My stomach drops to my feet, and I swear under my breath. “It’s not mine.”
“Then whose is it?” With the light still on us, a guy walks toward us. His damn deputy badge glows against his dark uniform. Fuck me. Just fuck me. The plastic bag blazes hot in my hand, and there’s not a damn thing I can say to make this situation disappear.
I stare at Mia, and she locks her gaze to the ground. Doesn’t matter if I tell the truth. I’m the one caught holding. A pissed-off panic begins to pulse in my bloodstream. Echo can’t see this. She can’t know.
“Both of you, hands on your head,” a bodiless voice says.
The world possesses a dreamlike quality as I move my hands. I’ve been clean of drugs for months, and I’m getting arrested for possession.
With his eyes scorching a hole into my brain, the cop snatches the bag from me. He tosses it to the guy holding the flashlight. “Don’t guess you have a prescription.”
He’s an inch smaller than me, and he’s not built. My right foot angles for the tree line and damn if his eagle eyes don’t catch it. His hand bolts for the gun strapped at his hip. “Don’t do it.”
This is a mistake. A goddamned mistake and I don’t know how to rewind and redo.
Sweat breaks out along my forehead. I should have stayed with Echo. I should never have left her side. In fact, we should never have been at this party. Mia played me, and I fell for it. I’d give my left ball to be in that hotel room with Echo watching whatever boring movie for the rest of my life.
I’ve fucked it up. A burn roars in my throat. I’ve fucked it all up.
The cop assesses Mia. “You here to buy?”
My mind whirls like a tornado. With the amount of pills she had, I’m bordering on a felony, but add that up with an intent-to-sell charge, and I’m facing prison. “No.”
Mia’s frame trembles as her wide eyes take me in. “I’ll take care of this, Noah. Stay silent, and I’ll take care of this.”
“Move to the hood.” The cop jerks his chin for Mia to go. “Both of you, hands on the car.”
“Fuck!” I say and slam both hands on the cold metal of the Mercedes. My heart pounds, and bile reaches up my throat. The cop pats me down, legs first, searching for weapons and whatever else he can find to put me in jail.
Echo. My brothers. The entire damned life I’ve attempted to create—all of it gone with one bad choice. By chasing the wrong person. I dip my head when the cop yanks out the lighter I carry to build the bonfires for Echo, and a strange ache in my eyes forces me to close them.
I’m losing her. I’m going to fucking lose her for good.
“What the hell is going on?” Isaiah’s pissed-off voice causes the cop beside me to swing the spotlight into the darkness.
“Stop right there!” The other cop, a big son of a bitch, pops into view when another cruiser races up with headlights beaming.
In his full punked-out glory, Isaiah doesn’t give a shit what anyone has to say as he keeps coming. The fingers on both cops’ hands twitch, and the new guy darts out of the squad car. His hand drops to his gun.
“Stay back, Isaiah!” I shout. He halts and so does my breathing as I hunt the horizon for Echo. “Don’t let her see me like this!”
The cop twists down on my wrist, rough enough that pain shoots up my arm. I don’t fight him as he slaps on the handcuffs. Metal pinches and digs into my skin. This is nothing. I’ve heard about the courthouses. Once I’m there, they’ll put me in shackles.
“Don’t let her see me like this,” I yell out again, and Isaiah nods once in silent agreement. “Take care of her.”
“With my life.” The promise isn’t just words to Isaiah. It’s sworn in blood.
Grabbing my biceps, the cop thrusts me forward, and we’re heading for the backseat of the police cruiser. Across the field, there’s more people with their hands bound. The shit I wandered into just got worse. This is a sting, a bust.
Fuck me.
A cop wanders over to Isaiah, and Isaiah holds out his arms. “I’m clean, man. Check all you want.”
Hope Beth is, too. I mentally push at the cop to hurry. I want Isaiah out of here and back with Echo before she searches for him. Before she finds me.
“Noah?” Echo’s uncertain voice calls from a distance.
Pain rocks through me like an aftershock of an earthquake, and I fling my body around. With Beth by her side, Echo stands at the top of the steep hill and stares down at me like she’s living a bad dream. The disappointment, the pure agony slashing across her face—damn, it’s annihilating.
“Let’s go.” The cop’s rougher, sinking his fingers into my skin, as he shoves me.
“Noah!” Echo sprints down the hill, and Beth chases her—calling her name, telling her to stop. Beth finally snatches Echo’s hand and whiplashes her to a stop.
“Noah!” The cracked rawness in Echo’s voice almost sends me to my knees.
“Get her out!” I shout. Using his hand as pressure on my head, the cop forces me into the back of the cruiser.
Keeping her grip on Echo, Beth attempts to step in front of her, but Echo fights to break free. The misery of watching Echo come face-to-face with this reality kills me.
The cop closes the door, and I slam the back of my head on the seat. Fuck me. Fuck me for doing this to me. For doing this to Echo. I blink rapidly, trying to stall the wetness.
With damn tears cascading down Echo’s face, Isaiah blocks her path. Both Isaiah and Echo gesture wildly, and the silence inside the car is deafening. Her lips frantically move, pleading with Isaiah as she points at me.
Finally ending the Shakespearean tragedy, Isaiah seizes Echo’s waist and half presses, half carries her over the hill. I force my eyes away as Echo challenges him—kicking to bend him to her will, but he’s doing what I asked. He’s saving her from me.
A cop eases into the driver’s seat and shakes my wallet in his hand. “Long way from home?”
Home.
Four years ago, I had two parents who loved me and two brothers who worshipped me.
Home.
For the past year, I’ve lived in a cement block basement with my two best friends.
Home.
I came to Vail searching for a connection, a place to belong.
Home.
Two nights ago, the girl I love gave me everything she had to offer. Not just her body, but her heart.
Home.
From the back of a police car, watching Isaiah drag Echo away—I’ve never been farther from home in my life.
Echo
Possession. Noah’s been arrested for possession, and there was a mention of dealing, but the receptionist has remained vague.
The waiting area of the police station has a layer of dust and dirt and filth and is the size of a walk-in closet. Beth sits in a chair with her knees pulled up, and Isaiah watches me pace as he leans against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
“He wouldn’t sell,” I say. I barely meet Isaiah’s intense gaze as I pivot on my toes to walk in the opposite direction of him again.
“You’re right,” he answers.
But the doubt devouring my internal organs causes me to complete my loop in front of the row of chairs faster. “I mean, he wouldn’t, right?”
“If Noah was selling,” says Beth, “then he sure as hell wouldn’t be worried about money all the time, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be flipping burgers.”
Of course. Of course. I yank on a curl, causing pain at the root, ticked off that I lost faith.
“Narcotics aren’t his thing, Echo.” The finality in Isaiah’s voice halts me midloop, and I turn to face him.
“He smoked pot.” I don’t know why I said it, but it’s true, and the words taste bitter.
“Not tonig
ht,” Isaiah answers.
It’s three in the morning. My mind wavers in this exhausted state. My vision blurs on the edges, and my muscles move like I’m wading through mud. But one clear thought causes my entire body to spasm: I’m dating a guy that could be arrested for owning drugs.
But Noah doesn’t do drugs. He stopped last winter, and he hasn’t used since, but I’ve never asked him if he quit because I assumed he quit. It all becomes confusing and overwhelming and...
“Those weren’t his drugs.” Isaiah breaks into my internal meltdown. “He’s had a few beers, but I haven’t seen Noah touch drugs in months. He’s clean. You know it. I know it.”
“I know,” I whisper, but this dread weighs me down, and I visit that playground of insecurity I’ve been attempting to avoid. “Why was he with her?”
“Don’t go there,” Isaiah warns.
I open my mouth to respond, and Isaiah doesn’t allow me the opportunity. “I mean it. He loves you. Period. So don’t go there.”
“I wasn’t.” I blink three times.
“You really would suck at poker.” Isaiah chuckles and I halfway smile, but it’s short-lived.
“What do we do?” I ask, because this is new to me, and there’s this sinking sensation that informs me that some of this isn’t new to Beth or Isaiah.
The two of them share a long look, and Beth inhales deeply. “We’re going to need bail money.”
I rub my eyes for so long that the sockets ache. Oh, my freaking God, bail money. “How much?”
“The charges they’re talking about...” Isaiah kneads the back of his neck, and I sort of wish I could shoot myself. “Best guess—couple thousand.”
Feeling light-headed, like a balloon that has been untied and whose air is being let out, I drop into the seat beside Beth. “How much do you guys have, because I don’t have that much.”
Beth places a hand over my wrist, and the friendly gesture shocks me with a jolt of electricity. I stare at her, absolutely bewildered. Her blue eyes flood with sadness as she answers, “Isaiah and I would be lucky to pull fifty dollars between us.”
It’s like my soul split open. Noah’s innocent of this. I close my eyes. He has to be. The man I love...the man I made love to...he wouldn’t do this to me. He wouldn’t purposely hurt me.
A slow, painful pulse begins in the center of my forehead, and I massage my temples, hoping it will force the hurt and this entire night to go away, but life is never that easy.
Noah’s behind bars. A couple thousand dollars. Nausea rolls in my stomach.
I’ve got to get him out, and there’s only one way I can do that. I stand and both Isaiah and Beth jump to be near me.
I wave them off. “This is something I have to do alone.”
“What?” Isaiah asks.
I suck in a large gulp of air, but I still tremble with the idea. “I need to make a call. Just give me a few seconds alone, okay?”
Isaiah pops his head to the right as if saying he’s not okay with it, but is granting permission anyway. “Stay by the door where I can see you.”
I nod then step out into the night. Mist hangs and dances in the air, and I shiver. From the cold, from the situation, I don’t know, but I try not to overanalyze. This isn’t about me or how this call will murder the fragile relationship I’ve spent months developing. This is about Noah.
My cell has never felt so heavy or the buttons so hard to press. Even with the time difference, this will be a wake-up call. An unwanted one. One, to be honest, I had been told they’d be expecting.
For years I craved my father’s approval. For years I sacrificed my happiness to receive it. Leaving Kentucky with Noah was one of my first real strides toward independence. Through the weeks I had been traveling, I felt my father relax his stance and side with me instead of against me, but this will cause him to be full of disapproval and anger.
I swallow when the phone rings once. Clear my throat when it rings a second time.
“Echo?” My father’s voice is groggy with sleep and full of worry. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m okay, but...” Deep breath before I fall off the ledge. “It’s Noah. I need your help.”
Noah
With my head in my hands, I sit on a cold metal bench and count the two million ways I’ve fucked up not only in the past twenty-four hours, but over the past week, too.
I’ve been fingerprinted, photographed and processed. I had everything. Everything. Isaiah told me the path I needed to take and because I’m messed up in my damned brain, I ran in the opposite direction.
We made love. I had Echo in my arms and because I’m terrified of losing her, I’ve trashed everything between us.
“My dad is going to freak!” With blotched cheeks and tears streaming down his face, the guy standing beside me in the cell is seconds away from getting his ass kicked by the ticked-off mob sharing our breathing space. “What am I going to tell him?”
“Someone get him to shut the fuck up!” a guy with a Mohawk yells from the other side. Twenty of us share a large holding cell created for caging animals like me.
“Leave him alone.” I win the stare-down contest with Mohawk guy in less than five seconds. I fucked it up with Echo and not a damn person here wants to mess with me—the stewing volcano.
“Thanks—” Blotched cheek guy starts, but I cut him off.
“Sit your ass down,” I mumble.
“My dad—”
“Is going to be pissed if he comes here to claim you in a body bag. So shut it.”
The guy’s my age, honestly a few years older, but he’s still got a plug-in for an umbilical cord. Most of the guys here were busted from the party. Who the hell knows if this kid was arrested for selling, holding or for stupidity, and I’ll be damned if I ask.
He collapses to the bench next to me. “Dad will stop paying for college.”
My head hits the back of the cinderblock wall with enough force that pain weaves through my brain like a spider’s web. Fuck me—college. The only reason I’m able to go to school is because of the system. They had me sign papers that stated I understood that by receiving the money I’d stay out of trouble.
This is trouble.
What happens a thousand miles away will affect school...my future—my throat tightens—my brothers. Carrie and Joe kept me from them for two years because they thought I was bad news. This isn’t think—this is know.
Pure anger races through my veins, and I bolt to my feet, searching for something to ram my fist into—someone to blame because the truth, that I’ve destroyed my life...I can’t face it.
I pace the floor and rake my hands through my hair. This burning in my lungs, in my throat, it’s a damned pressure cooker ready to explode.
In front of me is an open patch of wall. My fist rolls back and right as I’m about to lose my shit with the cinderblock... “Hutchins, Noah,” a cop calls out. “Let’s go.”
The low murmur of conversation dies as the door to the cell slides open. It’s like they’re half expecting me to drop dead the moment I leave. Part of me is expecting it, too.
I wait for the bastard to cuff me again, but he doesn’t. He crooks his finger for me to follow. Two steps behind and attempting to watch my back, I do. With a key, then a card, two dead bolts unlatch on a thick door, and he opens it. He walks through and so do I.
I stop breathing. Not five feet away, Echo slides her fingers along the length of her scars. The door shuts behind me, and my gaze nails the cop. “What’s going on?”
Echo’s head jerks up, and our eyes meet. Beth and Isaiah scrutinize me like I’m a damn ghost being resurrected.
“Charges were dropped. Both you and your girlfriend are free.”
Girlfriend. Echo’s forehead wrinkles, and my eyes snap shut. Girlfriend. “Echo...”
Another click and a cold draft hits my back as the door behind me opens again. Echo’s sight falls beyond my shoulder, and she lifts her chin in that familiar pissed way.
Appearing pale and for the first time smaller than life, Mia walks up beside me. “I believe a thank-you is in order.”
“Why does he think she’s your girlfriend?” Echo demands.
There’s a handful of people in the waiting room, including the receptionist behind the bulletproof window, and each one of them watches, awaiting my explanation.
“It’s what I told them,” Mia answers for me, and my stomach bottoms out. “And my father when I asked him to intervene with the charges.”
Echo’s eyes flicker between me and Mia.
“It’s not like that,” I explain.
“Then why would she say that? Why would she help you?” Echo’s hand trembles as she wraps her fingers around a strand of hair. “You just met.”
Mia switches her footing, and I can’t meet Echo’s eyes. Damn me for this.
Echo recoils. “Tell me you just met. Tonight. Or at the Malt and Burger this week.”
“Let’s leave.” With each step I take toward Echo, she mirrors a retreating step back. Her head shakes back and forth as if she already knows the truth. “I’ll explain it to you in private.”
Echo throws out both of her hands in a stop. “Explain it now!”
I’ve never felt more like dirt than in this moment. Moisture pools near the rims of her eyes, and this pulsating ache in my chest screams to comfort her. What’s killing my soul is that I’m the one that’s slashing her open. I’m the one causing the pain.
“Is she the reason you wanted to go to that party so badly?” Echo asks.
I nod, because I won’t lie.
“Did you sleep with her?” Echo shouts.
I blink rapidly, hating myself. “A year ago. She worked in Louisville for two weeks a year ago.”
Echo covers her face with her hands. “You slept with her?”
Jesus, she’s gutting me. “A year ago.”