Page 10 of Hidden Echoes

ZANE

“Are you fucking crazy?Why did you just let her go?” My voice is filled with disbelief. Charlotte Spancer is not the kind of woman you piss off. I never know what tricks she has up her sleeve, but I do know this: she’s not someone you want to provoke.

She reminds me a bit of my little sister, to be honest—but with deadly fighting skills, of course.

“What did you expect me to do?” Charlie’s tone is sharp, her patience clearly running thin. “You said your work was done. Where do you expect me to keep her?”

"Charlie, you’re the damn doctor.”

"And you’re the guy who ran her over," she shoots back, her words sharp but not unkind.

I step back, not wanting to dive into this. I don’t like talking about the day I met Mia. It was messy, not the kind of memory I like to revisit.

I know I’m being a jerk. But I can’t help it. Mia’s alive, she’s walking. That’s all that matters. My work here is done.

But Charlie—she’s different. She thinks we should keep Mia around a little longer, and for some reason, she thinks it’s on me to take care of her. Because I’m the one who brought Mia to her in the first place.

It wasn’t like I had a choice. Charlie’s the only one I trust to help, and turning to my brother would be worse.

I’m not blind. I know Mia’s probably one of the Cartel’s refugees, and Charlie’s trying to figure out more about her. But I don’t want to get tangled in any of that.

I’m just a tattoo artist. That’s it. No drama, no complications. I’m not the type to play the hero or care for anyone.

And Mia? She’s got this energy about her that makes me uneasy. Something about her just doesn’t sit right.

“I have a trip to Los Angeles scheduled tomorrow. You know that, Charlie,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady, but her glare could burn through steel.

“You’re telling me that the girl who just woke up from a three-year coma—a coma that you put her in—is lying there completely vulnerable, and you’re thinking about your fucking trip to Los Angeles?”

No. I’m thinking about how eerily similar she is to the woman who’s haunted my dreams for years. Especially now, with her open eyes and the quiet grace with which she faces the world.

But it couldn’t be, right? That woman would be in her late forties by now, and Mia... Mia is young. Younger than me, even. She looks like she’s in her early twenties.

Her eyes, though—those mesmerizing, deadly eyes—make me want to stay as far away from her as possible.

And besides, why should I keep her? She’s alive, isn’t she? Fine, even. It’s not like I wanted to run Mia over; she practically threw herself in front of my car at high speed.

“Yes, it’s a convention for tattoo artists, thanks for asking,” I finally reply, letting sarcasm drip from every word.

I’m not exactly equipped to play babysitter. I can barely take care of myself. The tidiest thing about my life is my studio, and that’s saying a lot.

“Zane!” Charlie snaps, her voice rising. “If you don’t take her with you, I’m calling Kyle.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I say, my pride stung.

“You know I would.”

“You should keep her,” I argue. “You’re better at this kind of thing than I am.”

“I could keep her,” she says, her tone icy. “And that would just let you avoid taking responsibility for the massive shitstorm you caused.”

“Fine. I’ll take her. But if she causes any trouble, I’m leaving her there.”

“I still need time to evaluate Mia,” Charlie says. “She’s confused and needs help adjusting.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you let her walk out the door.”

“I don’t think Mia is the kind of person you can force into anything, Zane,” she replies, pulling out her phone. A small, satisfied smile creeps across her lips. “She’s not far. She went into a diner. If I were you, I’d run. This isn’t exactly The Society of Crow territory.”

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