Page 89 of Hidden Echoes

Chaos isn’t something I chase—it’s something I avoid, something I shut out. But with her, it’s different. It’s not just noise. It’s alive, pulling me in before I can think better of it.

And maybe I don’t want to think better of it.

Finally, we spotted Abigail.

"Zane!" Abby runs over and jumps into my lap, her excitement nearly knocking the breath out of me. I haven’t seen her in years—since I disappeared from Austin.

"You were supposed to come back, you asshole," she says, giving me a playful slap before pulling me into a tight hug.

"I intended to a few years ago, but things got a little complicated," I reply, my voice softening with a mix of regret and amusement. I don’t want to get into it, not right now. Not with her, not with any of them.

In my defense, I had every intention of visiting that day—right up until I ran Mia over. And after everything that happened with her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was some kind of sign. Like fate was stepping in, telling me to turn around, to stay away.

"Complicated how?" she asks, clearly curious, but before I can elaborate, something shifts behind me. A chill runs down my spine. My reflexes kick in faster than my brain.

Kyle’s already grabbed Mia’s wrist just as she tries to stab Abby.

“Mia!” I shout, my voice a mix of shock and panic. Fuck, I think, I forgot the part where Mia hates when strangers touch me.

I should’ve talked to her about this, should’ve prepared her for the possibility of something like this happening while we were here. I mean, I didn’t expect to find my brother here—hell, I didn’t even want to come back to Texas—but it was necessary. At least I don’t have to go to Evermore Biker Club; I don’t know if I could handle that right now.

“Stop,” I hear myself shout, though my heart is hammering in my chest. Shit, this is a mess. Mia—my Mia—holding a knife, and not just any knife, but one she’s aiming at Green, the sweetest soul on the planet.

It’s like a bad joke, the kind that’s so ridiculous you just can’t believe it’s happening.

I know Kyle’s going to be pissed. Hell, I’m pissed. I can practically hear him in my head, all growly and pissed-off like a bear with a thorn in its paw. I can already see the annoyed face he’ll make. It’s not just the face—it’s his I'm about to knock someone out face.

“You look like my little angel, so I'm going to give you thirty seconds to let me go before I rip your hand off.”

Fuck this is bad.

“Kyle, let her go.”

“She was trying to kill Abby.”

“It was nothing personal,” I say, right now, I can’t think about that.

“Little Angel,” Mia says looking at me puzzled and the way her soft voice sounds makes my protective instincts fire off like a damn firecracker show, and I’m trying really hard not to make things worse.

I can feel my brain scrambling, trying to calculate how to grab Mia’s wrist without doing a full-on wrestling move on her, while also keeping Abby from getting stabbed.

I’m doing some weird mental gymnastics, dodging and weaving, trying to be the calm in this insane storm.

It’s like I’m in a cartoon, except it’s not funny. It’s definitely not funny.

Mia, please don’t make me do this.

Mia’s eyes flicker, wide with the intensity of her own emotions.

She didn’t mean it. I know she didn’t.

They just don’t understand her.

"Let her go, Kyle," Abby says, her voice steady despite the chaos around us. Kyle hesitates, his grip still firm, but there's something in Abby’s tone that makes him pause.

Only because of that, he listens, releasing Mia’s wrist slowly. His gaze flicks to me, uncertain, but he knows better than to argue when Abby speaks with that kind of calm assurance.

I’m still on edge, the tension in my chest like a coiled spring, but I don’t take my eyes off Mia. I don’t care if Mia’s in the wrong right now. If Kyle lays a hand on her again, I’ll make him regret it. No one touches her like that.

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