Chapter Sixteen

One week later—First week of May

Ice felt somewhat content.

Sitting beneath the bright sun with the sand between his toes and a brand new, fully loaded, Ruger thirty-eight auto pistol in his lap, he sipped at the last of the tea in his glass.

At that very moment, he could say he was a happy man, but in all honesty, he had to wonder at the changes in Echo the past few days.

Ever since the breakdown and screamed words, I’m broken, Echo had been different. The assassin was starting to come out of his shell.

It was surprising, but maybe Echo was beginning to trust him just a little bit?

Yet, could Ice honestly trust anything right now? After the knifing, evading, and shooting Echo had done, how sincere could he suddenly be? Ice would need to wait and see, as much as he hoped Echo had turned a corner and that their relationship was moving in the right direction, he was going to save his hopes about their future until more time passed.

Echo dropped into the lounge chair next to him and handed him an open bottle of beer.

“No more ice tea?”

“You’ve graduated to beer since you no longer need the pain meds.”

“How long can we stay here?” Ice asked, taking a swallow of the icy freshness.

“As long as we want.”

Ice glanced over. “Who owns this place?”

“I do,” Echo said, picking at the paper on the bottle.

“It’s beautiful here,” Ice said, hesitant to voice the hundreds of questions that swept through his head. “It looks like a fancy vacation rental.”

Echo smiled and took a sip from the bottle. “I had the siding custom made to resemble a thatch hut when I bought it.”

“Was that around the time you left Erebus?”

Ice smiled at Echo’s look of surprise.

“Yes, it was. What do you know?” The words themselves could have sounded suspicious, but Ice found only curiosity in Echo’s deep brown gaze.

“I know that a few years ago, you left Erebus and were gone for six years. I came to work for them during your hiatus.”

“You quit the business.”

“I did. Just before you returned. That’s why we didn’t run into each other,” Ice said.

“But you came back,” Echo pointed out.

“I did.” Ice stared out at the sea. What would Echo think if he knew he’d come back to find him? He’d think he was nuts for sure. Ice rubbed the cool beer bottle against his forehead, and Echo was out of his chair with a hand pressed to his head as if feeling for a fever.

“Does your head hurt?” The assassin dropped to his knees between his splayed legs and Ice cupped Echo’s cheek, running his thumb lightly over the man’s lower lip.

“My head is fine. I’m too tough to die.”

“I saved you. I can’t let you die.”

Echo cringed inside at how stupid he sounded after he was the one who’d shot Ice, but he couldn’t stop from blurting out the words. Ever since he’d located Ice in the water beneath the pier, he couldn’t seem to let the man out of his sight.

Having Ice disappear on him last week had been a living nightmare. Echo still felt like throwing up at the memory.

All his fucked-up life, he had never had anything of his own, and right now, he considered Ice his. And god help anyone who tried to take him away.

“It’s hot and humid here. I’m use to the weather in the states. Another few days and I’ll be fine,” Ice assured him.

Echo searched the man’s face for lies and found none. The incredible blue of Ice’s eyes appeared to be magnified beneath the tropical sun. The lines of worry and stress had eased on Ice’s forehead and for that alone, Echo was glad.

He had no fucking clue how to be in a relationship and he’d probably fuck this up all ways to Sunday, but there was no going back. At least not for him.

“What are you thinking?” Ice moved the back of his fingers to his cheek and caressed him there.

“That you belong to me now.”

“Oh?” Ice said after a brief moment.

Echo wanted to kill something when he noticed the hesitation in Ice. It was going to take time for Ice to completely trust him again, and Echo never was one for being patient like the man sitting before him, but he’d try.

Ice had become too important too quickly for Echo to walk away and it didn’t only stem from when he couldn’t find Ice that day on the beach.

Echo couldn’t say exactly when this feeling began, but perhaps it had started when they’d fucked hungrily on the beach after the boat explosion. Or maybe it had begun the moment when he’d saved Ice’s life in the bathroom of that shitty bar. Because even doing that had been way out of character for him.

Still, though, he couldn’t say it was any one thing that started it all but the possessiveness he’d tried to hold back had reared its ugly head the moment he’d searched for and found Ice lying in the water, dying from the gunshot wound he’d inflicted due his lack of trust. It had probably been all of those things, if Echo were being honest.

Could he honestly say he trusted Ice completely?

Yes.

It was that simple and that complicated.

If he had to choose one person on earth, then Echo realized he would choose Ice to have his back.

And that stemmed from the way Ice had never given up on him. Ice was the first man he wanted to let in. And perhaps that emotion was born out of the fact that Ice saw something in him—something that he himself didn’t even see.

And he was angry at himself for wasting time.

Echo sucked in a deep breath. “I grew up in a house filled with drug addicts and prostitutes.”

Ice drew him up from the sand, lifted the Ruger, and then pulled Echo into his lap. When Ice placed the gun in his lap, Echo clutched the grip. Ice positioned a beach towel over the gun and then smoothed his fingers through his hair.

Echo couldn’t remember a time when someone had ever done that for him.

Touched him in comfort.

Nor smooth his hair and caress him like Ice did. He craved the man’s touch, not only at night, but now during the day. That was another reason why Ice had become so important, plus a lot of little things like Ice kissing him out of the blue or teasing him when he read aloud part of the book he was into.

“My mom was a hooker.” He forced the story out, and he went on to tell Ice about the endless days of no food. His voice wobbled when he told Ice about the john that raped him and of how he’d murdered the fucker when he was eight years old.

“It’s a good thing, because I’d kill him myself if he were still breathing air,” Ice murmured in a raw voice.

Echo looped his arms around Ice’s neck and continued. “I ran from home that day and never looked back.”

“How did you live?” Ice wrapped him up tight with those strong arms around his back.

Echo sucked in a deep breath. This part was going to be hard and he hoped that Ice believed him. “I survived two years until Solomon caught me.”

Ice’s body tensed beneath him, and Echo turned to nuzzle his face into the man’s neck.

“Solomon… caught you?” Ice asked slowly as if struggling to understand.

“Mhmm. Kept me in a dog cage,” he continued doggedly. “But you know what? It was better than going back to that house. At least I got food sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Ice’s voice was so choked up that Echo lifted his head and gazed into the man’s tormented face. He saw all the sorrow and banked rage—on his behalf—reflected in Ice’s eyes.

“I survived. It was there that I learned to hone my killing skills.” He smiled, trying to ease the man’s building rage.

“I’ll fucking end that bastard.”

That was the last thing Echo wanted. No way did he want Ice tangling with Solomon.

It was better to leave that bear sleeping.

He’d learned that lesson the hard way.