Echo (Archer's Creek Book 1)

by Gemma Weir

  Brandi: Echo knows. He’s lost it. That man is so in love with you. You need to come home.

  Gasping, I cover my mouth with my hand. I’d convinced myself he didn’t care, that I was leaving for him.

  Frantically, I open his messages. All eight are from the day I left.

  Echo: Livvy, call me.

  Echo: Where the fuck are you?

  Echo: This isn’t fucking funny. Call me.

  Echo: Livvy I’m freaking the fuck out. Call me.

  Echo: I’m at the airport. Don’t run.

  Echo: I love you. Please don’t leave.

  Echo: You’re mine and I’m yours. We’re it sugar. I understand why you think you need to run but your life is here with me. I was an idiot and I’m sorry. I’m coming for you sugar. You’re my forever.

  It’s been five long fucking days since she left me. The worst five days of my life.

  The day Gus found me smashing our home to bits, I drank myself into oblivion. The next day he was at the door at eight in the morning, and we’ve been searching for her ever since.

  If she went back to the UK, to Manchester, then at least I’ll have a place to start, but she could have carried on travelling, and fuck knows where she might be by now.

  I’m so fucking angry. I need her back, but every day that passes feels like forever.

  The club whores are circling me like fucking vultures, but my dick doesn’t even twitch in their direction. I wish it would; it’d be so much easier to just forget her and go back to fucking anything with a willing pussy.

  Who am I kidding? Even if my dick was on board, the rest of me wouldn’t be. Now that I’ve had perfection, cheap skanks are never going to do it for me again.

  Brandi fucking hates me. Sleaze has her on a tight leash since Livvy took off. He took her phone off her just in case Liv contacted her, but so far there’s been nothing.

  I’ve exhausted every way I can think of to track her down. Normally I can find anything or anybody, but that takes time, and I’m running out of patience.

  I want my girl back.

  I ran a check for credit cards using her name, old address, and date of birth, but she never bought a plane ticket. She hasn’t used any of her cards at all since she left. She hasn’t accessed any social media or emailed anyone. Her phone’s turned off, so we can’t track her.

  I moved back to the club two days ago. The cleaner I employed to keep the house clean while Livvy was recuperating came by and changed our sheets. I lost my shit and fired her. Livvy’s smell is completely gone, and now it’s just a big ole empty house again. I can’t stand living there without her, and at least at the clubhouse I’m not alone.

  When I’m alone, images of me and Livvy flash through my brain. It doesn’t matter how much I drink, they don’t stop. Most nights end with my hand wrapped around my hard cock, imagining all of the dirty things I want to do with her when I get her back.

  But she’s gone.

  She hasn’t contacted Brandi or Gus.

  She’s just fucking gone.

  My phone rings, and I pull it from my pocket and answer. “Blade.”

  “Echo, we’ve got something,” Blade says.

  “Livvy?”

  “Yeah. Puck hacked the security cameras from the airport. We’ve got her buying a ticket from the British Airways desk and then disappearing through security.”

  My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest. “Do we know where she went?”

  “Yes. British Airways only flies from Austin to London Heathrow. So she’s definitely in the UK, but where she went from London we don’t know.”

  “Thanks, brother. Is there any way we can see if she got a connecting flight from Heathrow?” I ask. I figure she’s gone home, but I don’t want to waste time in Manchester if she’s with her parents in fucking Russia.

  “Puck’s working on it,” Blade says. “The moment she turns her phone on, we’ll track her and get you on a plane to go get your old lady back.”

  “Damn right,” I say, feeling more hope than I have in the last five long fucking days. I hear Blade chuckling as I end the call.

  Rolling Livvy’s silver chain through my fingers, I stare into space. Airline websites are open on the laptop in front of me, a ticket to Manchester just waiting to be bought. I’ve never been to the UK, but fuck, London and Manchester are huge fucking cities.

  Livvy grew up in a village outside of Manchester, but her parents don’t live there anymore. Her friend James lives in Manchester, but I have no idea where. I don’t know who else she would go to.

  My phone rings and I grab it, answering quickly. “Blade,” I say.

  “We’ve got her, man,” Blade says, his voice triumphant.

  Relief billows through me, my taut body relaxing for the first time in days. “Where is she?”

  “She just turned her phone on. She’s in Manchester. We’ve tracked her phone to somewhere within a quarter of a mile from the cell tower at a place called Piccadilly Gardens. According to Google Maps, it’s a park in the middle of the city, surrounded by hotels. I’m sorry, Echo, but we can’t get a closer location than that.”

  I turn to my computer and click buy on the airline ticket. “It’s a start. I really appreciate it, brother.”

  “Bring her home,” Blade says sternly.

  “I will.”

  She’s my fucking woman. I was an idiot, and I let her forget that. I need to remind her that she belongs to me, and she needs to remember that I belong to her too. My girl’s run home, but a fucking ocean isn’t gonna stop me getting to her.

  The voicemail icon on my phone flashes, taunting me. Finally finding the courage, I tap the icon and put it on speaker. The robot voice informs me there’s six new messages.

  Echo’s southern drawl pours through my phone. “Livvy, where the fuck are you? You ran. You fucking promised you wouldn’t run anymore. I love you. I fucking love you, Livvy. It’s not safe for you to be out there on your own, so get your ass back home. Just fucking call me and tell me where you are. I love you, Livvy. Come home to me.”

  Tears start to track down my cheeks. The pain in my chest that I’d been ignoring burst to life the moment I heard his voice. My breathing becomes erratic. The sound of his voice makes me ache to be near him. The pull to him is so overwhelming I start to rise from my seat.

  Forcing myself onto the sofa again, I select the next message and brace myself for his words. “I need you. Our bed’s empty, and I don’t want to be in it without you. I’m broken, Livvy. You broke me, and I need you. Where are you? I need you.” Even through his drunken slur, I can hear the pain and hurt in his voice.

  I pause the messages, drop my phone, and quickly edge away from it. Loud, anguished sobs rack me, and tears run in torrents down my cheeks. Glaring at my phone, I contemplate stamping on it to save myself from the rest of the messages, but my desperation to feel close to him, even if it’s only listening to his voice, wins.

  Cautiously, I gather my phone and select the next message. “Livvy, you can run, but we both know that I own you heart and soul. Come back to me now before I have to start looking for you. You own me too, sugar, and you left me behind. I need to find you, Livvy. I don’t want to be without you. You’re my home. I have to find you.” His voice is full of command. My body responds instantly, and I shudder with arousal.

  Moments later, I contemplate the implication of his words. “I need to find you, Livvy. I don’t want to be without you.” The message was left the day after I left, four days ago. Excited nerves flutter to life in my stomach.

  He’s looking for me.

  I quickly select the next message, desperate for more of his words. “I miss you. I know things haven’t been good the last few weeks, but I love you. And you love me. I know you do. So I don’t understand why you’re doing this. You woke me up, sugar, and made me want more. Then you took it all away. I don’t know what to do without you. I love you, Livvy, and I want you with me.”

  Frantically, I move t
o the next message. “Where the fuck are you? You’re mine and you better not forget it. Get ready, sugar, ’cause I’m gonna spank your ass so hard when I find you, you won’t sit down for a week. But I tell you what, you’ll never forget who you belong to again. Call me right fucking now, Livvy. I’m not fucking joking.” I’m tingling all over, my lips twitching into a smile at his threats.

  The anger and frustration in his voice seems to escalate with each message and each day that passes. “You don’t get to walk away without talking to me. You want to end things, then stop being a fucking coward and answer your phone.”

  I reluctantly select the last message. “It’s been four days, sugar. Four days since I held you in my arms. Four days since I talked to you. Four days since I slept with you wrapped around my body. I don’t know where your head’s at. I don’t fucking understand why you left. I refuse to think I’ll never see you again. You’re my happy fucking ever after. ”

  Shell-shocked, I let my phone fall from my hand and drop to the floor. He loves me. Three words with such a big meaning, and he says them again and again. I thought his love had changed, that it had become an obligation out of guilt. But the passion in his voice removes all of the doubt from my mind.

  He loves me, and he’s looking for me.

  He’s coming for me.

  Fuck.

  In the last twenty-four hours, I must have picked up my phone a thousand times. I want to call him. I’m so desperate to hear his voice and beg him to come get me.

  But that won’t solve anything. My visa will still run out, and I’ll have to leave him all over again. I want to go to him, but if the pain of leaving him when I thought he didn’t love me is hard, leaving him knowing that he should be my future would be devastating.

  There’ve been no new messages, but like an addict, I listen to his voicemails obsessively again and again.

  “Liv, if you don’t call him soon, I’m going to,” Dan shouts from across the room.

  “Dan, I can’t.”

  Shaking his head, he settles onto the love seat opposite me. “You’re an idiot. You love him and he loves you.”

  “But my visa!”

  Raising his hand in front of my face, he silences me. “Liv, they’re just excuses. Apply for a permanent immigration visa. You still have a month left on your tourist visa, go back and figure it out when you get there. There are options, but you’re just running away. So stop being a coward and figure out how to get back to your man.”

  Slowly, I lift my eyes until they lock with Dan’s. “I’m scared,” I whisper.

  Dan nods and smiles. “Love is scary, Liv. That’s how you know it’s right. If you weren’t scared, I’d be worried, but use the fear, don’t let it overwhelm you.”

  Austin to Manchester is a fucking long-ass flight. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to sit in a fucking cramped airline seat, trying to sleep but having the person next to you talk your fucking ear off for hours

  Fuck, it’s cold here.

  It’s been two days since I got to the UK. After I got off the plane, I checked into a hotel near Piccadilly Gardens and slept for eighteen fucking hours. Manchester’s a fucking huge city, and apart from knowing what area her phone’s in, she’s yet to use her credit card or make even a single phone call that might help me to find her.

  My girl’s gone to ground.

  Since I got up yesterday morning, I’ve been leaving her messages every couple of hours. I tell her what I’m feeling. How I love her and how I hate her. How I want to make her scream so hard she won’t know if I’m the devil or God himself.

  For two days, I’ve walked the urban gardens and the city blocks that surround it, hoping she’ll appear.

  She hasn’t.

  I’ve figured out her visa issue, and now I just need to find her.

  Then I’m taking her home where she belongs.

  I miss her. It’s time to find my woman.

  For two days, my phone’s been barraged with calls from Echo. I love him, but every time he rings, I force myself not to answer. I’ve spent hours searching for a way for me to stay with Echo in Archer’s Creek. I can’t go back to him until I know there’s a way for it to be forever. But I don’t think I can hold out much longer.

  I miss him.

  His calls always end with him leaving me a message and torturing me with his words.

  Day One

  “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to us, sugar. You love me. We both know you love me, so why would you want to leave? I know I caused this. That my guilt caused this. But you ran away without even trying. You’re mine, Livvy, and I’m yours. Don’t you see there won’t ever be anyone else for me but you?”

  “Do you remember that day when I reminded you why you belong to me? Do you remember how your body craved it? You begged for me to take over and remind you why you’re mine. You pleaded for me to touch you and make you feel the pleasure only I can give you. Nothing else will ever feel the way it does when you give yourself over to me completely. This is my fault. I haven’t reminded you in too long, and you’ve forgotten. When you come back to me, I’ll make sure you never forget again. I’ll make you come so hard and so many times that you’ll orgasm screaming my name for the rest of our lives.”

  “I miss you. I miss your smile when you wake up. I miss those tiny shorts you wear. I miss the way you sound when I kiss your neck. I miss the way you smell when you’re turned on. I miss the way you smile at everyone who comes into the bar, but when you look at me, it’s brighter and happier than for anyone else. I miss the way you used to stare at me when you thought I wasn’t looking. I miss the way you love me and the way you’re surprised that I love you back. I just miss you, sugar. Please come home.”

  “I hate you for doing this to us, Olivia. You’re stronger than this, but you’re behaving like a coward who runs at the first sign of a problem. I hope you’re as fucking miserable as I am. You turned up and showed me what it was like to want to spend the rest of your life with someone, and then you just up and walked away without giving a fuck about the carnage you left behind.”

  Day Two

  “Sugar, it’s been too long since I kissed you. When you were hurt, I worried that I’d hurt you more, so I stopped. I was scared to touch you. I know that was stupid of me, and I promise it won’t ever happen again. When I get you back, I’m gonna worship your body. I’m gonna kiss your gorgeous lips, then all the way down your neck. I can’t wait to feel your pulse race when I put my hands on you. I can’t wait to feel the hard peaks of your nipples against my fingertips, or hear your breath hitch when I suck and bite on them. I can’t wait to stroke every inch of your soft skin or push my hands between your legs so I get to see that perfect pussy of yours. I can’t wait to taste you again. To run my tongue through your cunt and find your clit ready and waiting. I can’t wait to push my fingers inside you and feel your tight heat clench around them when you come all over my hand. I can’t wait to finally plunge my cock back inside you and feel you milking my dick as I spill my seed as deep inside you as I can. I can’t wait to reclaim every inch of you as mine.”

  “I love you.”

  “I miss you, sugar. I miss how you argue with me and defy me. I miss the way you smell and how you kick off the covers and sleep on my chest. I miss your snarky fucking attitude. I miss the way you laugh when you’re doing your girly shit with Brandi. I miss you. Stop this and come back to me.”

  “I can’t wait to see the shade of red your ass goes when I take you over my knee. This time I might bend you over a chair so I can watch the cream drip from your pussy as you beg for me to spank you harder. I love it when you push your ass into my hands, so desperate for more. Either way, I’m gonna punish you so good for running away. I’m gonna fuck you till you’re on the brink of screaming. Then I’m gonna stop and let your orgasm fade and start all over again. I’m gonna come all over your reddened ass and watch as my seed drips down your skin. I still need to claim that ass of yours. That tight virgin ho
le’s just waiting to be taken by me. You’re my perfection. You make everything better, and every fucking inch of you belongs to me. When I get you back, we’re gonna have our forever, sugar, our happy ever after.”

  Seven days without him, and I’m miserable. I’m a stupid, stubborn idiot. I love him. I want to be with him, but it could take months or years to get a work visa, and I would have to come home again. I’m torturing myself with the future and wasting the time I could have with him now.

  “Olivia, you need to get out of this flat. It’s been a week, honey. It’s time to pull yourself together. Either go back to him like you know you want to, or sort out your life here. You need to find a job and somewhere to live,” James says as he passes me a cup of tea, sinking down next to me on the sofa.

  “I know. I do. I can’t stay here forever. I just don’t know what to do anymore,” I say. My phone rings and both my and James’s eyes move to the screen. “It’s Echo.”

  James nods enthusiastically. “Answer it,” he prompts me.

  I reach for the phone, pause and pull back, then reach for it again. The ringing stops just as my fingers finally wrap around the case. “Call him back, Liv. Do it now before you talk yourself out of it,” James says.

  My hands shake as I tap the screen and start to call him. Before I can press the button, the phone beeps, informing that there’s a voicemail.

  Quickly selecting it, I hold the phone to my ear and wait for Echo’s words. “I can’t get you out of my head, sugar. I moved out of our house and back to the club. I’ve tried running from your ghost, but no matter where I go, the images in my head never go away. I wish I’d never met you. I was okay till you steamrollered my heart. But then I’d never know what it was like to love someone so completely that a piece of you is missing when you’re not together. I’m searching for you, sugar. I wish I could give up and let you go, but I can’t. I want forever with you.”