Chapter 2 Free Life

San Francisco, in a seaside townhouse, a girl with a gentle demeanor stood at the kitchen door, smiling at another girl lounging in the living room, watching TV and leisurely eating fruit. "Echo, go buy some ketchup. We're out."

Echo, curled up on the sofa, raised an eyebrow. She had rented one of these seaside houses for the nice view and fresh air. The landlord seemed refined and of the same heritage, so Echo thought she wouldn't be much trouble. Little did she know, this landlord was incredibly friendly-too friendly, in fact. The landlord treated her like a sister, being overly warm and familiar without caring if Echo liked it or not.

Echo glanced at the overly sweet smile in front of her. That unguarded smile left her defenseless, so she took the chance to tease, "I want roast meat."

Ivy laughed, "Go on, go on. If you're late, I won't make them." She waved her hands, urging Echo to hurry up.

Seeing Ivy's dismissive gesture, Echo felt both annoyed and amused. She slowly stood up from the sofa. She was wearing a shirt that was neither a T-shirt nor a blouse, with one sleeve torn off and the other looking like it had been chewed by a dog. Her jeans were so tattered even a beggar wouldn't wear them, and she had large black and silver accessories hanging down to her chest. Despite the rough outfit, it didn't look tacky on her. Instead, it seemed like this casual, effortless style was made for her.

Ivy frowned at Echo's outfit, "Echo, why are you wearing those clothes again? This style..."

Before Ivy could start her commentary, Echo quickened her pace towards the door.

Ivy treated her like a little sister, and Echo knew once she started talking, she wouldn't stop anytime soon.

Echo liked wearing whatever she wanted, and no one could interfere, but Ivy's constant nagging was daunting.

As soon as she hurried to the door, the doorbell rang.

While changing her shoes, Echo said, "It's your friend."

Ivy, drying her hands as she walked over, asked, "Why can't it be your friend?"

Without looking up, Echo replied, "I don't have friends."

Ivy paused, slightly taken aback, but saw Echo stand up casually, as if she had just commented on the weather, with no trace of sadness or loneliness.

Echo saw Ivy looking at her with endless warmth in her eyes.

Leaning against the doorframe, Echo crossed her arms and said, "Do you think I'm really your type? If you love me, I wouldn't mind a GL relationship."

Ivy squinted her eyes and glanced at the figure from the monitor, quickly opening the door for the guest. Grabbing Echo by the arm, she shoved her out the nearby glass door, saying with a fierce expression, "Go buy ketchup, or there'll be no roast meat for you."

Seeing Ivy's angry glare, Echo shrugged.

Sympathy? She didn't need it. Friends were just a self-imposed title, and their presence or absence made no difference. She was perfectly fine navigating the world on her own.

"Ivy, long time no see," came a slightly magnetic voice with a hint of a smile.

"Michael, what brings you here today?" Ivy asked, her tone both teasing and slightly unimpressed.

Echo glanced back, seeing a man and a woman entering through the door. The woman seemed to cling to the man like a soft-bodied creature, looking innocent and demure.

The man, standing about six-foot-three, had distinct, sharp features. With his shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a bronze chest, and his hair gently tousled by the wind, he exuded an undeniable sex appeal.

Michael noticed Echo looking over and gave her an elegant smile. She glanced briefly before heading to the garage, completely ignoring the two newcomers. Echo had no interest in making small talk with the likes of him.

Since entering, Michael had been watching Echo, and when she turned away without any further reaction, he raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her.

"Michael Brown, what are you looking at?" Ivy asked loudly, biting her lip.

Turning his head, Michael raised an eyebrow and asked, "Who is she?"

Ivy's face darkened, and she huffed, "Don't you dare make a move on her. You've got enough on your plate. The people here are off-limits."

She was clearly annoyed by his straightforwardness, not even sparing a glance at the sulking beauty on his arm. He was the epitome of a playboy.

Michael laughed heartily and said, "I..."

Before he could finish, the red Ferrari roared away, with Echo at the wheel. She waved to Ivy but completely ignored Michael and his companion, not even sparing them a glance.

Michael's words stuck in his throat as he raised his eyebrows high. Whether intentionally or not, this woman had ignited his anger. For years, no woman had ever disregarded him like this. She intrigued him.

"Ketchup, ketchup, where on earth can I find ketchup?" Echo muttered to herself as she sped along the coastline...

Echo pulled up in front of a small shop.

"Hey there, I'd like to buy a bottle of ketchup," she said.

"Sure thing, here's your ketchup..." The shopkeeper was just about to hand it over when a screech of tires pierced the air.

A bright light flashed from around the corner as a modified motorcycle sped towards them.

Echo squinted against the light, her brow furrowing.

The shopkeeper screamed and dropped the bottle as the motorcyclist swerved to avoid him, but the inertia carried the bike right to Echo's feet.

The rider skillfully stopped the sliding motorcycle right in front of Echo, who frowned even more.

The screeching sound of cars came from the corner as headlights approached. The motorcyclist quickly took off, with cars chasing him closely.

It all happened in an instant. As the scene returned to its dimly lit state, the shopkeeper was still screaming.

Echo stood there, her brow furrowed tightly. Her right hand was clenched in a fist, holding something the motorcyclist had discreetly passed to her when he stopped in front of her.

******

Echo stood by the window, caressing the huge diamond in the velvet box she held, the Pure Gold Crown, a treasure of the British royal family.

"Echo, long time no see." A calm male voice suddenly broke the silence.

Echo slowly turned around to see the uninvited man. He looked exhausted, his once composed and handsome face now weary. She responded softly, "Long time no see, Gavin."

The moment Echo saw that familiar motorcycle, she knew who it was. Gavin, the top male thief in the organization, was known for his steadiness and never having failed a mission. An expert in gold, diamonds and other jewels, and one of her childhood companions.

The man named Gavin glanced at the Pure Gold Crown in the box, shook his head, walked over to the sofa, collapsed into it, and poured himself a drink, which he downed in one gulp.

After a moment, he said, "I didn't expect to run into you here, Echo. I just got word. The Lord found Skye."

Echo sat up straight, her curiosity piqued. "Is it true? Where?"

"Not sure if it's true. Got the info from Doris, seems to be in New York. You help me this time, I'll give you this lead. Then we're square," Gavin said, cutting the connection before Echo could respond.

Echo sat on the bed, her brow furrowed deeply.

Skye hadn't contacted her in so long. They had agreed to stay in touch, and she had even adjusted their frequency of communication. If there had been any contact, she would have received it, but nothing had come through. This was very unusual.

The more Echo thought about it, the more worried she became.

Skye had been her partner for over ten years. Their teamwork and bond had grown beyond that of mere friends; they were like sisters. If Skye had truly been found, the consequences would have been severe, and the situation she would have faced would have been be dire, something Echo could easily imagine.

However, Skye wasn't someone who could be easily captured. Plus, they had a special way of contacting each other. If anything had happened, Skye should have been able to notify her immediately. The whole situation was perplexing.

"Shit." After a moment of silence, Echo burst out with a curse.

She couldn't just ignore Skye. Even if the information was uncertain, she couldn't stay calm.

"Get me a ticket to New York." Disguised simply, wearing a baseball cap, Echo appeared at the airport alone.

She needed to go to New York and confirm the news herself.

On the highway leading to the airport, a silver sports car sped along. As Michael saw the plane taking off, he punched the steering wheel in frustration. Damn it, Echo had slipped away again.

When he went to call her for breakfast in the morning, the large suite was empty except for a neatly made bed and a note saying she had to leave for something urgent.

She had said she would stay for a while, but now she had left in a hurry. Something must have happened.

Damn it, even though he confessed to her last time and got rejected, they were still friends, right? Couldn't she have waited to discuss it with him? Did she Michael cursed under his breath.

Watching the plane disappear into the sky, Michael clenched his fists.

Las Vegas was a place where he could protect her, but she never stayed out of trouble. She was so mysterious, so independent, always handling things on her own. But he wasn't someone to be easily dismissed. Even if she went to the ends of the earth, he would find her.