Page 84 of Ricochet

We’re lying in our bed in the hotel room in Vermont. We went out with the team for dinner after the game, and by the time we made it back to the room, we were both so exhausted that we just crashed into bed in our boxers, kissed for a few minutes, and fell asleep.

I have no idea what time it is, but it feels like it’s probably the dead of night.

Callum is whimpering. I’m pretty sure he kicked me in his sleep.

That theory’s confirmed when he does it again.

His whimpers grow louder, his movements more frantic as he fights against me and the sheets like he’s at war. I know he’s dealt with nightmares, but I’ve never witnessed one this bad before.

How the hell isn’t he waking up?

I’ve noticed he’s a hard sleeper, but I clearly didn’t know the half of it. He’s struggling against some invisible attacker until his whimpers start forming words.

“No, no. Stop. Please. No.”

I can’t fucking take it anymore.

He’s on his back, and I raise myself up on my elbow, hovering beside him without touching him.

“Callum?”

He shakes his head, tears streaming down his face.

I’m not going to be able to wake him up without touching him. I’m a little worried about how he might react, but I won’t let him stay trapped in that nightmare, a prisoner in his own mind.

I grab onto his arm and gently shake him. “Callum!”

His hand shoots out, and a fist rocks my jaw. It’s certainly not the hardest punch I’ve received from him, but if I wasn’t fully awake already, I would be now.

Grasping him by the wrist, I shout his name a little louder, shake him a little harder. “Callum!”

His eyes fly open.

When I see what’s inside them, I swear I can hear the sound of my heart cracking right down the middle.

They’re wet, but beneath those pools of tears isfear. Pure, utter terror. And pain. An agony so intense and visceral that it pervades the air, suffocating us both. He’s mentioned shadowsto me before, and I think I see them now. They’re swimming in his eyes, trying to snuff him out.

I won’t let them take him.

His chin trembles, and his voice comes out rough and broken. “Stone?”

“I’m here, baby.”

Callum launches himself at me, forcing me back onto the mattress on my side. Our arms come around each other at the same time, holding each other equally as tight. He sobs into my chest. They wrack his entire body as I hold him to me.

If I could, I’d bring Lewis Gibson back from the dead.

If I ever find out reincarnation is real, I’d track him down in his next life and make him suffer worse than anyone’s ever suffered.

He’d wish he came back as a cockroach before I was through with him.

“I’m right here, Cal,” I whisper against his hair, stroking his back. “I’m never going anywhere. I’m right here.”

He sniffs. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t agree. “I can take a hit,” he says, the words muffled as he speaks against my chest. “I can take rough from you. But I…I can’t take these fucking nightmares.”

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