Echoes Marissa Lete (best ereader for students .TXT) 📖

Before I get there, the door swings open and Dave walks into the room. I fall to my knees in front of the gun, but Dave kicks it out of my reach. He grabs my arm, forcing me to stand up.

“Take her downstairs,” Alice waves a hand to him, an expression of defeat caked onto her face.

“Wait. No! Stop!” I yell, struggling to break free from Dave’s grip. “What did you do?”

Alice just looks at her nails and sighs. Dave starts dragging me towards the door. I can’t go. I can’t let her hurt my family. Maverick.

“I’ll do it, I’ll help you!” I scream, desperate.

She meets my eyes, a cold emptiness in them. “Sometimes our choices can’t be reversed,” she says.

“Please!” I screech. I feel hot tears burning behind my eyes. Alice waves us away, and Dave pulls me closer to the door. “Wait! Dave!” I yell, a thought coming to my mind. “She’s been lying to you!”

Dave pauses, only for a tiny moment, but it’s enough for me to continue my assault of words.

“You had a wife. A son. Alice took them away from you,” I tell him, breathless.

He freezes, his grip on my arm loosening. He glances past me at Alice.

Alice has a good poker face, though. “Come on, Dave. Are you seriously listening to her?”

Dave’s gaze hardens, but before he can start pulling me to the door again, I slip away from him, backing up. Behind me, I feel for my pocket, reaching in and pulling out the photograph I’d taken from Alice’s office. I spin around, holding it in my cuffed hands out to him.

I expect him to ignore it and continue dragging me out the door, but he plucks the photo from my fingers, turning it over in his hands. I watch his eyebrows burrow in confusion, then raise in shock. “Who are they?” he asks, holding the photo out to Alice.

“Nobody!” she replies, but we all catch the hitch in her voice.

“Where did you get this?” he asks me, serious.

“She had it in a drawer in her office. I found it when we snuck in. Maverick said he erased their memories, and yours. Alice made him do it.” The words come out so fast I’m surprised he hears all of them.

He closes his eyes for a second, clutching the photo in his hand. “My wife? My son?” His voice cracks.

Alice moves around her desk, crosses the room, and grabs his arm. “Dave, I would never do something like that to you. I love you.”

I raise my eyebrows. Love? Was Alice even capable of love? Was there something between her and Dave that I’d never picked up on? I’d thought he was just a bodyguard.

Dave lets her hold his arm for a moment, but then he tears it away. Backs up. “Which is exactly why you would do this.”

Her eyes widen. “Dave, you don’t really believe her, do you?”

He glares at her with dark eyes. “You always get what you want. And you never care about anything that’s in your way.”

“Dave—”

“Don’t!” he roars, silencing her. “Don’t lie to me. Who are these people?” he demands, shaking the photo at her.

“No one. It’s just a trick. They’re no one,” Alice says calmly, though I think I can see her hand trembling. She moves toward him, arms stretched out, but then Dave shoves her backward. She stumbles onto the ground, and then Dave raises a gun. Cocks it with his thumb.

Alice freezes. I do, too.

“Tell me. Now,” he says.

Alice just shakes her head, speechless.

Dave reaches into his pocket with his free hand and slides out a wallet. Then he pulls something out of it. A photo. “Why did I find a photo with the same exact people inside my wallet the other day? Did you forget to cover up that evidence, too?”

We’ve caught her. Alice, the cocky, terrifying woman who created this mess, has finally had her crimes catch up to her. And now she’s laying on the floor, unable to find a good excuse. She glares at us, but there’s nothing else she can do.

Dave closes his eyes, breathing hard. Then, opening them, he pulls the trigger.

I watch in horror as Alice’s body jolts from the shock of the bullet going straight into her chest. Her eyes roll backward, and a moment later her head hits the ground.

Two beats pass.

Three.

Four.

Dave lowers the gun. I try not to look at Alice’s lifeless body on the ground.

Dave doesn’t look, either. He crosses the room to me and grabs my cuffed hands. He unlocks them, freeing me. “Go,” he says. He slides something out of his pocket, his head hanging down. He hands it to me. It’s his identification card. “They’re downstairs. I’m not sure which rooms. There will be guards to stop you,” he tells me.

I search for words to say—some way to express my gratitude—but there aren’t any. I nod, then cross the room, picking my gun up from the ground. I make sure it’s loaded and that the safety is off. Then I leave the room.

Down the hall, I find the staircase Maverick and I had escaped from last time. At the bottom, I peek through the window, spotting a heavily armed guard across the hall. I close my eyes, realizing that the only way to get past him involves shooting this gun. It’s not a choice I want to have to make.

Alice’s words echo through my mind. Sometimes our choices affect other people. People we love. Then, later: Sometimes our choices can’t be reversed.

Taking a deep breath, I add my own words to the train. Sometimes we make choices because we love people.

I fling the door open, holding the gun with both hands. pointed directly at the guard. When I