Page 112 of Ricochet

“Let go of me, Callum.”

Anyone else would be fucking terrified of Stone right now. His voice is harsh and deep andtoocalm and steady. His eyes are dark, two voids that have swallowed up the forests.

I’ve thought before that I could never see him more furious, but I was wrong. Those times have nothing on him now.

I rise to my feet, keeping a tight grip on him. “I’m not letting you go after him.”

He yanks his arm toward him, which pulls me with it until my face is inches from his. “You really think you can stop me?”

“I do,” I tell him confidently.

His nostrils flare, and his left eye twitches. His entire body is vibrating. “He fucking threatened you. He invaded your privacy. You have no idea what I want to fucking do to him right now.”

“I can guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a hundred times worse than that.”

Jerking his arm, he twists out of my grasp, causing my nails to scratch and cut into his skin. Blood wells to the surfacefrom the shallow scrapes as he stalks away. While he heads in the direction of his bag, I go to the door, standing in front of it to block his exit. He comes back, tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans. His knuckles are white around the handle of his knife.

He stops in front of me. I hate the sight of his scowl directed at me, but I know it’s notreallyfocused on me. It’s on Eric. He can’t help himself. I’ve realized he has anger issues among his many other ones, and when he gets this way, there’s very little that can stop him.

He’s a wild beast, and I’m still learning how to control the reins.

“Why are you trying to protect him?” Stone snarls. “Does he really mean that much to you?”

“No. He’s grieving, and he just got news that devastated him. He’s still my friend. But no. This is about you. If you go out there right now, you’re going to fuck up. You’re going to make a mistake and get yourself into a hell of a lot of trouble. I’m not willing to lose you over this, Stone.”

I can’t help but feel a little guilty. When Eric told us he followed us in Massachusetts, I remembered hearing footsteps that night. Eric was following me more than he was Stone.

It’smyfault.

My words don’t seem to penetrate the fortress of rage he’s built. He’s still wound tight, murder in his eyes. “How do you know he’s not going to the cops?”

“I know you’re in some kind of blind fury right now. But did you not see him? He’s not going to turn you in, not now that he knows the truth. I’m willing to bet on that a lot more than I am on letting you out of this apartment.”

“Not good enough.” He takes a step forward, eyes narrowed. “Get out of my way.”

Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.

Bounding forward, I grab onto his hand that’s clutching the knife, prying his fingers off to get a grip on it without cutting myself. He releases it easily. I know the only reason he lets go is for fear of hurting me.

If there’s one thing I can always count on, it’s that.

As soon as I have his knife, I move around him into the living room, backing away from him.

“That’s fine,” he says, removing his gun from his jeans and taking a step toward the door. “I don’t need it.”

Desperate times and all that…

I put the blade to my throat.

“Stone.”

With his hand on the doorknob, he peers back at me and freezes. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Eric didn’t hurt me. But I might hurt myself, so you should probably deal with me first.”

I feel a little insane, but I’m no more crazy than he is right now.