Page 93 of Ricochet

The disappointment that follows makes something abundantly clear.

I want him.

I want his kills.

And I don’t think I care what else comes with it.

Stone’s hand falls away, moving to the wall beside my head. His eyes plead with me in the dark. “Don’t say no.”

“If I do?”

One corner of Stone’s mouth tilts up. “I can always stuff you into the trunk of my car again.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t tell if it’s a joke.

“Come on, Cal. Please, trust me.”

His brows are pulled low, that familiar sight of an internal struggle happening just behind his eyes. He doesn’t want to force me. If I had to guess, he hasn’t even made a decision as to if he would go through with it.

I choose to have mercy on him and not make him decide.

“Fine.”

A faint burst of warm air ghosts across my lips as he lets out a sigh. It tastes like relief.

I don’t know if I’m upset that he’s still treating me so carefully or in awe over whatever superpower I have over a literal murderer. If I steered into the latter, maybe that first part wouldn’t bother me so much.

Placing my palm against his chest, I push. He goes back easily.

I can’t help but grin. “You’re kind of my bitch, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he responds without a second’s hesitation.

Shaking my head, I laugh. “Come on, bitch.”

We head back toward the lot, and I follow Stone to his car. It roars to life, and the seat rumbles beneath me as he navigates out of campus and to the highway.

“You still can’t tell me where you’re taking me?”

His eyes remain on the road ahead. “Pennsylvania.”

“Excuse me?”

My heart is immediately in my throat. I’ve been back to Pennsylvania for games, of course, but the thought of returning there with Stone sets me on edge.

He reaches over and takes a hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. Taking his gaze off the road long enough to give me a comforting smile, he says, “Trust me.”

Icantrust Stone. Idotrust Stone.

“Okay.”

He takes his hand away, and I almost reach for it back. Because I know I’m closer to reaching a decision about him. About everything.

But I’ll wait until whatever it is Stone has planned.

We get into Pennsylvania alittle after midnight. I must have drifted off because when my eyes open, I realize the car is no longer moving.

Peering out the window, I see we’re parked in the driveway of a single-story, red-brick house in a nice, quiet neighborhood. I look to my left to see Stone scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

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