Echoes of You (The Lost & Found Series Book 2)
Echoes of You: Chapter 17

I pulled on my softest sweats. I needed the warmth and comfort because Nash’s disappearing act had left me way too cold. A kind of chill I wasn’t sure you could ever get warm from.

Tugging the throw blanket over myself, I burrowed under it as if that could somehow protect me. It was nothing but fluff, but it was all I had.

The deep ache in my chest reminded me why I’d fled Cedar Ridge in the first place. Because hoping over and over again that things were changing between Nash and me left me devastated every time. People didn’t realize what a dangerous emotion hope could be. How brutal.

Each time it smashed at my feet, it took a little piece of my heart with it. I’d started to fear that I’d eventually lose it all and wouldn’t have even a single shard left to give to someone who might want it. Hope would have destroyed them all.

It wasn’t Nash’s fault. He hadn’t promised me a danged thing. Hadn’t ever kissed me in the way I yearned for. Hadn’t told me he wanted me as anything but a friend. But, sometimes, I caught him looking at me, his gaze tracing my lips or the curve of my hips, and that damned hope flared to life again.

But it was always cut down. Nash would pull away or take someone on a date. Or I’d hear some woman in town talking about how she’d had him in her bed. Each time, I died a little inside. It happened through high school, as we commuted to our local college, and in the years after. But I paid the price for each tiny wound of disappointment.

I would’ve given anything to turn it off and stop feeling this way about my best friend—the one who had always been there for me no matter what. But nothing I tried ever worked. And my last endeavor had almost gotten me killed.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I reached over for it, my traitorous heart hoping it was Nash.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

You were nothing before me. Trash. I rescued you out of hell, and this is how you repay me?

A shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the phone.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

You better not have let any man touch you. I’ll know. And you know the punishment for whores.

Tears pooled in my eyes as memories battered at the walls of my mind.

I leaned back in the armchair, and a laugh bubbled out of me as I scanned the text message.

NASH

Incoming photo. Charlie after he got into Drew’s art supplies.

The photo was of Lawson’s three-year-old son covered from head to toe in paint of just about every color.

NASH

We’ll be scrubbing paint out of the carpet for years to come.

“What’s so funny?” Adam asked from the couch.

His tone was deceptively calm—the kind of calmness that had my palms instantly dampening and my stomach twisting. I swallowed hard. “A picture of one of my friend’s sons. He got into some paint, and it was pretty cute.”

I tried as much as possible to keep Nash’s name out of my mouth. I got it. I really did. I wasn’t sure I’d be thrilled about my boyfriend having a female friend he was potentially closer to than me. I did my best to stretch out the time between phone calls with Nash and always had them when Adam wasn’t around.

“Which friend?” The question was casual as if he were actually curious.

“Lawson.”

Adam’s fingers tightened around his phone.

Over the past year, I’d gotten good at registering every tiny move and preparing for the sudden shift in temperature in my relationship.

“Who texted you?”

“Nash.” I didn’t hesitate to answer. That would only make things worse.

Little lines of strain formed around Adam’s eyes. “And what does Nash have to say?”

“Just wanted to send me that photo of Charlie.”

Adam finally looked up from his phone, his cold gray gaze colliding with mine. “What do you think it says about you that you’re so determined to keep up this friendship with another man?”

Beads of sweat rolled down my back. “He’s been in my life since I was five. There’s no romantic history there.”

“But you wish there was.”

I stared at my boyfriend of over a year. “I’m with you. I don’t want anyone but you.”

Adam scoffed. “You make me look like a fool. I was talking to Carl, and he said he doesn’t know why I don’t just dump you. You obviously have zero respect for me and our relationship.”

My heart lurched, a sickening dread sweeping through me. “That’s not true. I moved across the country to be with you. Quit my job. I travel with you whenever you need.”

His eyes hardened. “I thought you wanted to do those things.”

“I did. I do. But they should be evidence of how much I want this relationship to work.”

Adam leaned back in his chair. “If that’s true, then why don’t you put your phone away and come spend some time with me?” He patted the cushion next to him on the couch.

I looked down at the text messages from Nash. He’d be able to see that I’d read them without responding. I hated the idea of that, but I shoved the guilt down and crossed to Adam.

He pulled me down next to him, grabbing the phone from my hand and putting it on the side table. He wrapped his arms around me so tightly that it was hard to breathe. “I’m sorry, Madison. I just love you so much, and I want this to work. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” My throat was so tight that it was hard to get the word out.

“Good.”

But I wasn’t so sure it was good. There were moments it was. Where I felt safe and cared for, but as I stared down at my engagement ring, I realized what I felt more and more was trapped.

The sound of a door opening jerked me out of the memory. I did my best to uncurl my fingers from the blanket wrapped around me. The memory hadn’t even been a particularly bad one. It was what it symbolized. That handful of moments when the tides had started to turn from good to so very bad.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. I did my best to brace. I’d never been good at hiding my emotions. They played over my face for all to see. They’d gotten me in trouble with my father and with Adam. But Nash could read me better than anyone.

He filled my bedroom doorway, his broad form eating up the space. The moment his eyes landed on me, he stilled. “What’s wrong?”

My fingers twisted in the blanket. “Nothing. Just tired.”

Nash strode across the space, lowering himself to the mattress. “You sure about that?”

I blew out a breath. “Just memories.”

“Your dad?”

“Adam,” I confessed. Just saying his name reminded me that I hadn’t told Nash about the latest barrage of texts. But, honestly, what good would that do? It would only piss off my best friend all over again.

Nash’s jaw tensed. “He doesn’t deserve a single second in your brain.”

“I know that. But that doesn’t mean I can stop it.” My words had a bite to them. Annoyance that he’d think I wanted to think about Adam combined with hurt at him taking off.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just hate the idea of you thinking of him at all. I want your mind to be a clear and happy place.”

A little of my frustration bled away. “I want that, too, but I think it’s going to take time. Knowing that my dad might be out on parole just makes things harder.”

Nash toyed with the edge of my blanket. “Talked to Law.”

I looked up from Nash’s hands, needing to see his eyes.

“Your dad was granted parole. There’s been an overcrowding issue, and they’re looking to release prisoners with good behavior.” Nash’s words sounded mangled, as if he could barely get them out.

And what he said hit me like a physical blow. I’d come back to Cedar Ridge to feel safe, and now that might be taken from me, too.

“He’s not out for another two weeks, and Law has the paperwork ready for an order of protection. He’ll have to keep one hundred yards from you at all times.”

“And how the heck is that going to work in a town the size of Cedar Ridge?”

“If he enters somewhere you are, he’ll have to leave.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on.

Nash slipped his hand under my hair and kneaded my neck. “I picked up the papers at the station. All you have to do is sign. It’s a level of security you need right now. If he screws up and breaks it, he’ll go back to prison and have to serve his full sentence.”

I rolled my lips together, my teeth biting into them. It would be worth it for that. It wasn’t as if my dad wouldn’t know where I was living. He could replace out in two seconds. “Okay.”

Nash’s brows rose. “Okay?”

The shock on his face startled a laugh out of me. “You’re shocked at me being agreeable?”

“Honestly? Yes. You’re the most stubborn person I know.”

I pinched his side. “I am not.”

Nash’s lips twitched. “Do you remember what happened the first day of middle school when you were determined to carry all your books?”

I’d filled my backpack so full that I’d fallen right over. I glared at Nash. “It’s rude to bring up embarrassing moments.”

He snickered. “You almost knocked yourself unconscious.”

“You have a few zingers, you know. How about the time your mom found the special magazines under your mattress and—”

Nash clamped a hand over my mouth. “We never speak of that day. Ever.”

I couldn’t hold in my laughter. Soon, tears were streaming down my face, and Nash had to let me go. “She got you condoms.”

“It was the most traumatic sex talk imaginable. She tried to use Grae’s old Barbies to demonstrate things.”

The tears only came harder as I tried to get myself under control. “You couldn’t look at her for like a month.”

Nash threw up his hands. “Would you have been able to?”

I only snorted.

“Thanks for bringing this up. I got us burrito bowls, and now my appetite is ruined.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nothing has ruined your appetite in the history of time.”

“This might.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. Taking Nash’s hand, I pulled him up. “Come on. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“I’m glad one of us is,” he mumbled.

“Such a drama queen.”

I came to a stop at the picnic table in my dining room. There was a massive bag of takeout with a stack of papers next to it. “Is that the restraining order?”

Nash nodded. “You just have to sign. We don’t have to deal with it now. We can—”

“No. Let’s get it over with. Do you have a pen?”

He fished in his pocket and pulled one out, handing it to me.

I didn’t bother reading what Lawson had written. I trusted him. I simply wrote my signature across the line at the bottom. Staring at the looping scrawl of my name, I just hoped this flimsy piece of paper had a prayer of protecting me.