Page 124 of Ricochet
What comes next happens within a few blinks of an eye, half a dozen heartbeats.
Stone hurls the knife at our coach, and I throw myself down onto the ice. His knife spins through the air before the blade is embedded in Coach’s arm. The gun goes off before tumbling outof his grip. The bullet hits another pane of glass, raining down more onto the rink.
“Stone!”
It’s Eric. He’s crawled back out from the bench, leaving a trail of blood from his shoulder. He slides Stone’s gun toward him across the ice while I scramble for Coach’s. They’re in our hands at the same time.
Our first shots peal through the air simultaneously. They strike their mark, each shot to Coach’s chest knocking him back.
We don’t stop.
We shoot until the clips are empty and there are at least a dozen holes littering the front of Coach Hill’s body, soaking his clothes, painting them and the ice beneath him scarlet. He stares down at himself, lips parted, blood dripping down his chin.
He falls to his knees.
Then collapses.
The arena goes silent except for the ringing in my ears. Blood pools beneath Coach’s crumpled body, turning the loose ice to crimson slush and glistening beneath the arena lights.
I let the gun slip from my fingers. I’m fucking shaking, but I don’t let that stop me from scurrying across the ice to get to Stone. The second I’ve reached him, I take his face in my hands and crash my mouth to his. He fists the front of my hoodie with his uninjured hand and whimpers against my lips.
Pressing his forehead against mine, his voice breaks on a sob. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
I shake my head. “Never.”
He gives me one more swift, soft kiss. We stay like that for a bit, catching our breath, coming down from the adrenaline. Eric is still nearby, but right now, it’s just me and Stone and the relief of being alive. Together.
Lowering his voice to a whisper just for us, he asks, “Don’t you want to admire our kill?”
I almost laugh.
For so long, I thought I’d never have what it takes to kill someone, and maybe in any other circumstance I wouldn’t have it in me. But this one?Thiskill? It was easy. I can feel it—that feeling that comes with death. But this time, there’s something else there too that’s even more potent.
I got rid of some of those shadows tonight. Turned them into butterflies.
Glancing back at the coach’s body, I return my gaze to Stone just as quickly. “It’s beautiful. But not as beautiful as you.”
Stone smiles, his eyes still wet.
“I hate to interrupt.” Eric leans against the boards in front of the bench. He holds his shoulder, blood dripping between his fingers. “Shouldn’t we come up with a story?”
Stone and I share a look. We both know this isn’t something we can cover up by dumping a body in a lake. There’s so much blood on the ice. Red paint spilled and brushed on a blank, white canvas.
He peers over at Eric. “How far from the truth are you willing to go?”
“However far you tell me. I’ll follow your lead.”
“Actually,” I say. “I have an idea.”
Two ambulances are parked outsidethe arena. Along with a coroner’s van.
Callum was kind of a genius. We called Lacey, and she planted some pretty damning evidence on Coach’s office computer. The story is that Eric found it when he went to print out some plays and Coach caught him. Eric barely got away with his life. When he returned tonight to see if the evidence was still there so he could call the cops, Coach showed up. Callum and I were there to pick up his phone he left in the locker room, and we simply got in the way. Coach was going to kill all of us, and what we had to do was self-defense.
At least that last part is true.
Lacey even hacked into the Coach’s home computer to plant more evidence there, but apparently she didn’t need to. She knows I never want to see it.
I honestly should’ve known tonight was a trap. Once I made the connection between Coach and Eric, Coach would’ve knownI’d be coming for him. He was waiting, biding his time. Using Eric to draw me out.