Page 101 of Ricochet

“Do you want to know what he did?” Stone whispers in my ear.

The guy starts struggling against the binds holding him in place, murmuring words beneath the tape.

All I can do is nod.

I don’tneedto know, but after seeing how broken up Eric was over his uncle, I think it might help.

I know I need to tell Stone that someone’s onto him. I spent the majority of the ride here with my eyes on the side mirror to make sure we weren’t being followed. Even though I didn’t know Stone was planningthis, I’ve been extra cautious.

But I can’t tell Stone that without telling him who. Even though Eric broke into my room and invaded my privacy, he’s still my friend. He’s probably the only guy from high school I would’ve been happy to see.

I don’t want Stone to kill him.

Then again, if Stone only kills the bad guys, was Eric’s uncle one of them? If he was, does Eric know?

Maybe I can figure out how to get everything resolved without anyone dying.

I’ll worry about that later, of course.

“Do you want to tell him, Matthew?” Stone asks the man as though he really could.

Matthew stops wrestling against the ropes to glare at him.

“Okay, fine.”

Stone moves his hands off my waist, wrapping his arms around me to place his palms flat over my stomach, his front pressed against my back. He rests his chin on my shoulder as we both stare straight ahead at his hostage.

My heart is already starting to beat wildly with adrenaline, anticipating a kind of ethereal calm that’ll soon follow.

“Matthew here is a fantastic piece of shit. He spent eight years of his nine-year marriage beating his wife. The last time was so bad it landed her in the hospital fighting for her life.”

Well, if anything, knowing that has me looking forward to what Stone’s going to do to him even more.

I want to see him cut open.

I want to see him bleed.

“He spent a few years in prison while his wife filed for divorce and moved far away. But apparently that wasn’t good enough. He still loves beating women. Don’t you, Matthew?”

Once more, he starts struggling, his muffled curses or pleas or whatever it is he’s trying to say growing louder.

Stone lifts his chin, his lips skimming over the shell of my ear. “Do you want to hear him scream?”

Again, all I can do is nod. My breathing is shallow and heavy. My head feels a little light because I’m pretty sure all my blood is rushing elsewhere.

Sure enough, when Stone lowers one of his hands over my crotch, my half-hard dick takes interest, thickening even more. He hums in my ear and grinds against my ass, his cock growing hard too as he palms mine over my jeans.

“Fuck. I love that you’re just as fucking depraved as I am. Your ass was made for my cock, and your twisted mind was made just for me.”

I’m pretty surehewas made forme, but I’ll let him believe it’s the other way around for now.

Matthew might also be a homophobe judging by the way the part of his face I can see scrunches in disgust.

Fucking kill him.

Stone releases me and steps back. I almost whine at the loss of his body against mine, but I’m too amped up for what comes next. He pulls me over to a desk that’s up against the wall just beside the door and says, “Sit here. You’ll have the best view.”

There’s no chair—it’s probably the one Matthew is occupying—so I hop on top of the desk beside the bag Stone must’ve set there when we got in.