Page 57 of Mayhem

I crossed the distance before he touched her.

My hand closed around his wrist and turned it away from Echo, putting enough pressure on the joint to wipe the expression off his face. I stepped between them and walked him backward until his shoulder hit the wall, then held him there while he stared at me with the sudden understanding that whatever argument he had been having was over.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” I said. He nodded too quickly, so I released him and gave him enough space to leave without making the scene any larger than it already was. He did not bother looking at Echo again before heading toward the stairwell.

I waited until he disappeared around the corner before turning back to her. Echo had not moved, but the boredom was gone completely. She looked at the empty space where he had been, then at me, and her expression flattened into something much colder.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked. Her voice stayed quiet, which told me I had managed to become a more interesting problem than the man who had just left.

“He put his hands on you.” I slid mine into my pockets because leaving them loose at my sides suddenly felt like a bad idea.

“I noticed that part.” Echo stepped closer and glanced toward the stairwell once before bringing her attention back to me. “I was also standing right there, which means I was perfectly capable of doing something about it.”

“I know.”

That made her stop. Her eyebrows drew together, and I could see her recalculating the argument she had already prepared because I had taken the easiest version of it away from her.

“Then why the fuck did you get involved?” she asked.

I usually knew why I moved before I moved, whether the reason was practical, useful, violent, or simply because somebody had managed to irritate me enough to earn the effort.

“I didn’t think about it,” I said. “I saw him reach for you and moved.”

She stared at me for a second, then gave a short laugh without any amusement behind it. “That’s supposed to make this better?”

“No. It’s supposed to answer the question.”

Echo came another step closer and planted one hand against the center of my chest. “You knew I could handle him, but you still decided to jump in front of me anyway. That sounds a lot like you’ve decided I need a fucking guard.”

“I didn’t decide anything about what you need.” I kept my voice level even as her fingers curled lightly into my shirt. “If I had stopped long enough to assess the situation, I would have let you handle it. I didn’t stop.”

She shoved me.

I let the force move me back one step instead of planting my feet. The choice was deliberate, and she recognized it immediately. Her eyes narrowed as if I had insulted her all over again by refusing to turn a shove into a contest she knew I could win.

“Don’t do that,” she said.

“Do what?”

“Stand there pretending you’re being reasonable while telling me your body apparently makes decisions about mine before you do.”

The familiarity of the reaction bothered me. I had felt it before. The realization must have changed my expression enough that I must have let something show, because she studied my face for several seconds before the anger in hers shifted into something more suspicious. Her hand stayed against my chest, but the pressure eased.

“You just figured something out,” she said. “And I’m guessing I’m not going to like it.”

I looked down at her hand, then back at her. “Probably not.”

“Try me.”

I could have lied and told her it was about Hunter’s arrangement, the fact that she was useful, or the inconvenience of explaining another injured person on campus. Any of those answers would have been easier to deal with, but Echo had gotten annoyingly good at hearing when people tried to hand her something cleaner than the truth.

“I do the same thing with Ronan,” I said. “I know where he is without looking for him. I notice when somebody moves wrong around him before I consciously decide whether it matters, and sometimes I’m already moving before I’ve finished thinking.”

Echo went very still.

“I’m not saying you’re him,” I continued before she could turn that into another argument. “I’m saying I recognized the reaction.”

Her fingers tightened slightly in my shirt. She looked past me for a moment, jaw working, then returned her attention to my face.