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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.
“What about you?”
Echo’s question jogged him from his dark thoughts.
The fucking monster who’d locked Echo and other boys in a cage had been Solomon.
He needed to call Dave.
