Page 48 of Ricochet
Nate snorts into his beer. “He doesn’t have one.”
Stone, his hard gaze still lasered on me, answers with a vacant tone. “It’s Herbert.”
Brooks flops back against the booth and raises both hands in the air. “Dude.”
Nate and Eric both burst into laughter.
“Give it a fucking rest. I was named after my grandfather, alright?” Brooks mutters bitterly as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Wait. Herbert—”
“No.” His frown gets deeper. “NotthatHerbert Brooks.”
The other two start laughing again.
I don’t think Stone has looked away from me once since Eric got a little too close to me, like he’s prepared to jump up and drag Eric away by his collar if he gets so much as a millimeter closer.
I’m not exactly keen on the idea of Stone killing my friends.
Our teammates’ laughter gets joined by more from the other side of the restaurant where our coach and assistant coach are finishing their beers at the bar. It all mingles in the air, swirling around my head until my mind is full of the sound.
I should probably get out of here before all the laughter can suffocate me like dark, ghostly hands around my throat.
Or before Stone murders Eric.
“Alright, guys,” I say before downing the last few drops of my beer. “I’m gonna call it a night.”
Nate, Brooks, and Eric all boo me, but Eric still slides out of the booth to let me up.
“We probably won’t be too far behind you.” Nate checks the time on his watch. “We gotta be on the bus at nine.”
“I drove up in my car,” says Eric, looking at me. “You wanna ride back with me?”
Even though I don’t meet Stone’s eyes, I can still feel them on me, burning a fucking hole in the side of my head. “Nah. I should probably ride back with the team. Thanks, though.”
“Sure. Night, Cal.” He gives me a pat on the shoulder before sliding back into the booth.
As I head out of the restaurant, I canstillfeel Stone’s eyes on me. After last night, it’s as if that brand they seared onto my soul five years ago is ablaze all over again, freshly sizzling and white-hot.
The heat lingers as I enter the elevator, press the button for the third floor, and lean against the back wall. The doors start to close, and I nearly jump when an arm shoots out to stop them. They open back up, and Stone steps inside.
The doors close, trapping us together.
My heart rate spikes.
Oddly enough, it has nothing to do with the fact I watched him murder a man in cold blood last night.
I might’ve been hoping I could make it to our room alone. We all showered after the game, so I could have slipped right into bed and at least pretended to be asleep before Stone made it upstairs.
He says nothing as the elevator takes us up. He stands a little in front of me, his shoulders squared and his jaw tense. I don’t know if he’s pissed about Eric or on edge from all the questions I know he has.
When the doors open again, Stone strides out, pulling me along by some invisible force. He takes his key card out of his pocket and swipes it at the door to our room. Once we’re both inside, I close it and lean my back against the wood. My heart is still in overdrive, and I’d rather try to gauge Stone’s mood before walking deeper into a viper’s nest.
Not that I’m afraid. Maybe I should be, but I’m not. I’m nervous for a different reason.
He makes it as far as the corner of my bed before he turns back around to face me. The small lamp on the desk is the only light on, saturating the room in a dim yellow glow and casting shadows.
Stone’s eyes are so dark that they’re part of those shadows.