“You didn’t just look up her social media,” Echo sneers. “You dug into everything about her.” He pauses, letting the words settle. “Multiple times.”
Josh looks at me, and his smile tightens at the edges as his jaw flexes. “Doll, that’s normal, right?”
I glare at Josh and find myself at a loss for words. If he did try to dig into my past, he wouldn’t have found anything. I changed my name ten years ago and barely have an online presence now.
Still, that isn’t normal. It’s weird.
“He did it weeks before he even had your number,” Echo adds, curling his lip. “There’s nothing normal about that.”
Josh’s soft expression falters, just for a second, before he quickly forces it back on. He leans back in his chair and rubs the back of his neck.
“Look, I saw you in the bookstore before we met,” he says, keeping his voice light. “I didn't know how to talk to you. So yeah, I looked you up, and I probably took it too far.” He glances at me, his eyes soft. “I just wanted to be prepared for when I worked up the nerve to talk to you.”
His excuse is plausible. Expected even, given what I know about him. He’s exactly the kind of man who would want to be fully prepared before he approached me.Still.That doesn’t make it okay. Not by a long shot.
“He’s a liar, Bambi,” Echo says flatly. “You can’t trust him.”
I look up at Echo, and something in me snaps. Not because anything he’s saying is wrong. In fact, I’m sure he’s right, but the thing is, he shouldn’t be.
He shouldn't know Josh’s search history. He shouldn’t know what he looked up or when or how many fucking times he did it. But he does, and chances are, he’s been monitoring my search history too. Digging into my life. Into the people I talk to. Into the choices I make. Without asking. Without permission.
The realization slaps me in the face.
Echo didn’t just happen to run into us. He’s been watching. Cataloging. Collecting data on every person who gets close to me, treating me like I’m something he needs to manage. And what’s worse is he doesn’t even see a problem with it.
He’s standing there, jaw tight, eyes cold, fully convinced he’s protecting me. That this is what I need. What I deserve. But all I can think is that he’s doing the same thing Josh did. The same thing Christian did all those years ago.
Making decisions for me. Crossing boundaries he has no right to cross. The only difference is Echo is better at hiding his tracks.
I stand up abruptly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“Echo, can we talk?” I ask, my voice shaking, as I lock my eyes on his. “Alone?”
He glances at Josh, his eyes narrowing slightly, like he’s debating whether or not he could get away with snapping his neck in a restaurant full of witnesses. Then he gives me a stiff nod and steps back from the table.
I follow him toward the entrance, and the second we’re out of earshot from everyone else, I turn to face him.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss.
“Keeping you safe.”
“From what? A dinner date?”
“From him.” He replies through clenched teeth. “Bambi, I know you don’t want to hear this, but Josh is dangerous.”
“And how did you figure that out?” I ask, crossing my arms. “Did you run a background check? Hack into his computer? What?”
Echo presses his lips together.
“Did you do the same thing to me?” I ask softly. “Is that—is that how you knew where to find me?”
He doesn’t answer, which is answer enough.
“Oh, my fucking god.” I say, pressing my fingers tomy temples as every coincidence that wasn’t a coincidence runs through my head. “You have been, haven’t you?”
“Bambi—”
“No.” I drop my hands and look at him. At the hard line of his mouth. At the tension radiating off him in waves. At the way he’s crowding me, like he’s trying to physically block me from going back to the table. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to dig into people’s lives without asking. You don’t get to show up and make decisions for me.”
