Page 88 of Ricochet

Still, I consider burning the book.

My mind is veering off in two directions.

Down one path are my feelings for Stone. I care about him. Hell, more than that. He means more to me than anyone in my life ever has. I want him. Ineedhim. Avoiding spending nights with him because of these nightmares has damn near killed me.

However, down the other path are whatever morals I’m still clinging to. I imagine my aunt or uncle or one of my cousins were one of Stone’s victims, and my perspective shifts.

The part of me that wants to follow that first path feels the need to warn Stone.

The part of me on that second path doesn’t want him killing Eric.

My phone vibrates on top of my dresser. I pick it up and then sit on the edge of my bed.

Stone: I wish you’d stay with me tonight.

Me: You know I can’t. I have that paper due next week.

Stone: And we both know that’s an excuse. Your nightmares don’t scare me, Callum.

Maybe not, but they scareme.

They scare me because I hate feeling vulnerable. They scare me because of how much more Stone could see that I’ve been hiding from him.

When I don’t text him back right away, he sends another.

Stone: I can tell you’ve been tired. I just wish you’d let me help.

Me: I’ll be fine. Promise. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ok?

Stone: Sure. Goodnight, Cal. Get some rest for me. Please.

Me: I will. Goodnight.

Except that’s looking unlikely.

As suspected, I didn’t sleepfor shit. And what little sleep I did manage to get was plagued by the usual nightmares.

The sinister laughter has been growing louder.

The smoke has become thicker.

I got to our anatomy class early just so I could close my eyes for a few minutes. I’m at my desk, my head resting on my arms, and my hoodie up over my head. The chair next to me scrapes across the floor, interrupting the lingering sound of cruel laughter bouncing off the walls of my skull. I don’t open my eyes as I hear Stone take a seat.

I can practically feel the fumes coming off of him.

When I finally lift my head, it’s to the sight of Stone staring down at his laptop, his jaw ticking.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy with that shit, Callum.”

“Sorry,” I mutter.

Except I don’t really know what I’m sorry for. I guess it’s just instinct. Or a lack of a desire to argue considering how exhausted I am.

While we sit through class, Stone hardly looks at me and doesn’t speak to me. I’m hoping that makes what comes next easier. Maybe if he’s angry with me, it won’t hurt either of us so badly.

Class ends, and Stone follows me out of the room. Once we’re in the hall, he grabs onto my arm and drags me past classrooms, peering in through open doors. When he finds an empty one, he pulls me inside. We walk a few feet into the room before he turns his intense, unwavering gaze on me.

“You’re staying with me tonight.”