Chapter 28 - Stone

We didn’t leave the cabin until the middle of the afternoon. We took my dad’s old boat out onto the lake, tied some bricks to Matthew’s body, and dumped him far out. The weather was perfect, so we stayed out there for a bit.

Callum was still kind of floating in a tranquil daze, and I didn’t want to take it away from him too soon. The boat lightly swayed on the water like a rock-a-bye as I held him and kissed him and told him how much I love him. How I’m never fucking letting him go.

I can finally say all those things I’ve been dying to.

While we were out there, I cut another notch in the rosewood of my favorite knife using my smaller pocket knife. I might have to get a new one soon. I’m starting to run out of room.

Callum watched me work, saying, “It’s like notches on a bedpost but for murdery puck boys.”

When we made it back to the cabin, we showered and changed into the clean clothes I brought for us both. Callum was quiet for most of the ride back to Connecticut. I hoped it was just because he was enjoying the afterglow, but he seemed to be deep in thought. I tried not to let the fear that he was regretting everything we’d done eat at me, but it was difficult not to.

That might be one reason I’m not taking him back to his apartment right away. It’s early evening as I pull up outside my place, so we still have plenty of time to spend together. Maybe I can get him to talk to me about what’s on his mind.

However, it turns out I don’t have to try hard.

Two seconds after we’re inside my apartment and Callum closes the door behind him, he says, “I need to tell you something.”

Setting my bag down on the coffee table, I turn back to him. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really.”

Shit.

My heart is pounding away in my throat as I take a step toward him. I attempt to swallow it back. “Okay. Look, if today was too much for you—”

“It’s not that.”

Relief floods through me, the air in my lungs not as heavy.

“It probably should be,” he says, his mouth turned down in a frown. He’s doing that thing where he feels ashamed for the things he doesn’t feel rather than the things he does. “I probably should be feeling differently about it than I am, but I’m not. I don’t have any regrets.”

“Then what’s going on?”

Callum hesitates. He eyes lower to the ground as he leans his back against the door. He takes a breath and peers back up at me. “If I asked you not to kill someone, would you do that for me too?”

I don’t have to consider it for long. “I want to say it depends, but we both know I’d do anything for you.”

He nods but says nothing for several seconds.

“Callum, talk to me.”

“It’s about Eric.”

Okay, I take it back.

Just the prick’s name coming out of Callum’s mouth is enough to have me see rivers of blood. I swear to God if Callum says Eric hurt him or touched him, the leash he has on me will fucking snap.

“What about him?” I ask through clenched teeth, my jaw tense.

The next voice that speaks doesn’t belong to Callum.

“He knows who you are.”

I spin around so fast the blood rushes to my head. A crimson veil falls over my vision as I see Eric stepping out of my fucking bedroom.

It gets even darker when I see the gun in his hand that hangs at his side.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my apartment?” I snarl.

I don’t let my gaze drop to my bag that’s sitting on the coffee table, but I consider how quickly I could get to it to get my own gun. Probably not before Eric could pull the trigger.

“You and I need to have a conversation, Wakefield.”

“Fine. As soon as Callum’s gone.”

Callum steps up beside me, and my arm shoots out in front of him to keep him from going any further. Eric’s hand twitches around his gun, but he doesn’t raise it.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“He’s right,” Eric says. “Neither of you are.”

I haven’t taken my eyes off of him, but my scowl deepens. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Vaughn?”

He stares at me without blinking. “The guy whose uncle you murdered.”

Well…I wasn’t expecting that.

I wouldn’t say I’m surprised. With how many people I’ve killed in the past six years, I was bound to run into someone close to one of my victims. Other than Callum, of course. However, the fact that he suspects me at all is unfortunate.

For him.

Before I can clear my head, Callum speaks first.

“Eric, whatever you think you know, you’re wrong.”

“Let me handle this, Callum,” I tell him without taking my eyes off our teammate.

Dead teammate.

“If I do that, you’re going to kill each other.”

It’s like he’s reading my mind.

Eric steps further into the living room and stops beside the coffee table. When he leans down to unzip my bag, I move forward. He raises his gun. I freeze when he aims it at my head.

I don’t give a damn about myself. I’m only worried about Callum.

If I’m dead, I can’t protect him.

Peering into my bag, Eric arches a brow. “A knife. A gun. And lube.” He looks back up with an annoying smirk I’d love to wipe off his face. “Fun weekend?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He picks up the bag and walks backwards with it to drop it on the floor of the kitchen. “On the couch. Both of you.”

I push Callum behind me, planning on walking in front of him on our way to the sofa. Instead of heading that way, he moves around and steps past me. I immediately reach out and grab onto his arm.

“Eric, you don’t have to—”

“Shut the fuck up, Cal,” he snaps, directing the barrel of the gun at his supposed friend .

That’s when I fucking lose it.

Yanking Callum back, I shove him toward the couch. I get two steps in Eric’s direction before his weapon is trained back on me. Normally, I wouldn’t give a fuck about getting myself killed.

But things change.

If I was any closer, I’d snatch the gun out of Eric’s hand. At least he’s smart in that regard and staying far enough away from me to prevent that.

Leaning forward to the point that it has Eric’s finger itching at the trigger, I lower my voice and speak as steady as the storm that’s raging inside me. “Aim that gun at him again, and I’ll shove it up your ass and pull the trigger. Without lube.”

“Kinky,” he says with a straight face. “Sit the fuck down.”

The only reason I do is because of Callum.

When we’re both seated on the sofa, Eric stands on the other side of the coffee table a few feet back and lowers his gun.

“Now,” he starts, gaze pinned on me, “you could save us all a lot of time if you just confess.”

“Why the fuck do you think I killed your uncle?”

“I saw Callum’s drawings.”

For the first time, I take my eyes off of Eric to peer over at Callum. His head is lowered, staring at his lap.

“When?” I ask, looking back at Eric.

“The other day.” That smug fucking tone I’ve heard him use before returns. “Snuck into his room while he was getting a shower.”

Blood rushes in my ears, my left eye twitches, and I swear a molar cracks.

Easy, beast.

He’s just trying to goad me. Logically, I know that. It still doesn’t stop the beast inside me from trying to break free from his cage. And I’m very close to letting him out.

The scary thing is that while Callum has me on a leash, I keep my beast on one. Even when I let him out of his cage earlier today at the cabin, I kept a tight rein on him because I wasn’t sure what he’d do while killing with Callum in the room. Even the beast wouldn’t hurt him in that way—it only wants other things from him—but I still fear what it would be capable of while I’m like this.

“I’ve seen those drawings,” I tell him, my voice strained from the effort of containing that piece of me from ripping Eric the fuck apart. “They don’t prove a goddamn thing.”

“No.” Eric shrugs. “But the man I witnessed you murder on that dock in Massachusetts might.”

Well fuck.

I was followed by two people that night? I must be losing my touch.

It makes sense though. That weekend was the first time Eric showed up. He must have gotten in the night before and followed both me and Callum.

Callum is stock-still next to me, so he must not have known either.

“So you’ve been suspecting me for a while then for you to follow me that night.” I lean back against the cushions but keep my muscles coiled tight in case I need to strike. “What put me on your radar in the first place? And why confront me now?”

How did he know to follow me that night?

I don’t think I’ve ever been suspected before Callum and Eric, which is why I was never overly paranoid about being followed.

Is someone else on to me too?

That has to be the only explanation.

How else could Eric have known unless he was working with someone else? For someone else?

“Because I’ve been waiting until I could prove you killed my uncle too,” he says, avoiding my first question. “Is that your confession?”

I’m not dying today. I’m also not going to prison because of this fucker. So I guess that only leaves me one choice.

“What was your uncle’s name?”

Eric hesitates briefly before answering, “Jim Adelman. I called him Jimmy.”

I run the name through the database in my mind. I don’t remember every name of the people I’ve killed off the top of my head. But that one does strike a chord.

“Yeah, I think I remember him. I believe he had a thing for little girls.”

Eric’s face scrunches. “Excuse me?”

He’s surprised. Good.

“There’s a phone in that bag over there,” I tell him. “I need you to get it for me. Since I assume you’ll shoot me if I try to get it myself.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Funny he would ask that when he looks like he’s the one on the verge of losing his .

“No. I’m actually feeling surprisingly rational right now given you’ve broken into my apartment and pointed a gun at the man I’ve literally killed for and wouldn’t fucking hesitate to again. You should be grateful for that, Vaughn. Get me the fucking phone.”

His hand is shaking around the handle of his gun. “Why?”

“So I can prove to you what kind of man your uncle was. I promise that you don’t want to know since he clearly meant enough to you for you to do this. But before you do something you’ll regret, you’re going to learn the fucking truth.”

He raises his weapon and aims it at my head once more. “Or I could just take that as your confession and fucking shoot you.”

Callum moves beside me. “Eric!”

Eric must’ve already forgotten what I literally just told him because he points the gun at Callum again.

I’ve never thought of Callum as weak or a coward, but maybe I still wasn’t giving him enough credit. Because staring down the barrel of a gun doesn’t stop him from continuing his forward momentum to stand.

Before he can, my hand is landing on his shoulder to drag him back down as I leap off the couch. I have half a mind to vault over the coffee table and tackle Eric, but he trains the gun back on me before I can.

“You have a fucking death wish?” I snarl. “If you don’t keep that gun aimed at me, you’re going to have to unload that clip to stop me from ripping you the fuck apart. And you better hope that’s enough to fucking stop me.”

Whether it’s the confirmation that he was right about me killing his uncle or the news of who his uncle really was, something has Eric a hell of a lot more nervous than when he first showed himself. His eyes are a bit red. Sweat is gathering at his temple. His hand that’s holding the gun is still shaking, which has me a little nervous too.

“Don’t think I won’t, Stone.”

“Most people don’t have what it takes to kill. You really think you do?”

“We could find out.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think we will. Go get the phone so you can see why.”

He searches my eyes for a lie, but he won’t find one. His chin trembles. His gaze dips down to my chest where he has the gun aimed as he contemplates his options.

I can practically feel Callum vibrating with unease behind me. “Eric, come on. Listen to him.”

Finally, Eric starts stepping backward in the direction of where he dropped my bag. He keeps his eyes and weapon leveled on me, but that’s fine. He can’t keep it up forever.

Crouching, Eric reaches into my bag, feeling around before pulling out my burner phone. He stares down at it for a moment before walking back over. He sets it on the corner of the coffee table furthest away from me and steps back again.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he says.

“Like break into the apartment of someone you’re accusing of being a murderer?” I mutter as I pick up the phone. “And then hand them a phone?”

Eric’s eyes narrow, and his arm straightens as his finger touches the trigger.

“Chill the fuck out.” I turn a little to the side and hold the phone up so he can see what I’m doing. I open up a text to Lacey. Her name isn’t saved in this phone, of course, and this number is a burner for her too.

Me: Can you send me all the info you have on Jim Adelman?

She texts back immediately.

Her: On it.

I set the phone back on the table. “Take a look at the next text that comes through in about a minute. If you don’t think your uncle deserved to die after seeing what you’re about to see, then I’d say you deserve to die too.”

Returning to my seat beside Callum, I turn to him and kiss him on the temple. He already knows there’s no way in hell I’m going to let Eric hurt him, so the reassurance might be a bit more for me.

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking at me with a frown.

“For what?”

“For not telling you Eric came to me about this.”

“Why didn’t you?” It’s Eric who asks the question, the phone in his free hand.

Callum’s frown deepens as his gaze holds mine. “I didn’t want you to kill him.”

Fuck my life.

My composure is barely hanging on by a thread. The only reason I’m making an effort to hide the fact my blood is boiling throughout every vein in my body, that everything in this room is bathed in red, is to give Eric a false sense of security. Because…

I do want to kill him.

For sneaking into Callum’s room while he was in the shower. For following me that night in Massachusetts. For trying to worm his way onto the first line to…what? Get closer to me or Callum to find evidence against me? For breaking into my apartment.

But most of all?

For pointing that fucking gun at the man I’m in love with.

Since the first moment I started feeling anything for Callum, I’ve felt like I’m hardwired to give him anything and everything he wants.

But this?

I don’t know if I can give him this.

The beast wants fucking blood.

My burner phone vibrates in Eric’s hand. His gaze moves between me and Callum before he peers down at the screen and clicks on the file Lacey sent. As he reads what’s there, his eyes sweep from left to right, slowly growing more red and a little wet. His face screws up into hard lines, nose scrunched, mouth twisted in a grimace. I know he’s gotten to the worst of it when his complexion pales.

I don’t remember a lot of the details of Jim Adelman’s many vile indiscretions, but I remember the gist. Besides the sexual assault of children, Lacey also believes she found enough evidence—well, enough for us —that he may have at least been complicit in the death of a young girl.

Eric’s gun is back at his side. His face is now a sickly green. With his focus still on the phone, now’s my perfect opportunity to strike.

Before I can, Callum’s hand wraps around my forearm, his nails digging into my skin.

Okay, he might actually have a superpower.

But I’m cursing that gift of foresight or mind reading or whatever it is as my chance passes when Eric lifts his gaze to us. He blinks, and a tear rolls over his lower eyelid and trickles down his cheek.

Oh, my bleeding fucking heart.

He shakes his head, his voice thick and distraught. “This isn’t true.”

“It is,” I tell him, more than happy to rub it in that the man he cared about was one of the largest piles of shit the world is capable of crapping out.

“I didn’t know.” His agony lingers heavy in the air, but all I do is soak it up. “He…he was like a father to me.”

Don’t give a single flying fuck.

“I’m sorry. Both of you. I swear I won’t say a thing.”

Still gonna kill you.

“I’m sorry too, Eric,” Callum says.

I’m sorry too, baby.

Something else seems to come over Eric, his chest rising and falling rapidly as though he’s spiraling into a panic. He drops the phone on the coffee table.

“Fuck.” He swallows and shakes his head again. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

The second he turns his back to head to the door, I’m on my feet. Callum digs his nails in deeper. When I peer down at him, I see a knowing look within his pleading stare.

Why the fuck does he have to know me so well?

By the time I look back to the door, Eric is gone. But what’s not gone is the cloud of red veiling my vision, blood dripping down the edges. The thundering of the cage door in my mind. The beast’s roar in my ears.

I guess we’ll see just how much power Callum has over me.

I don’t know if it’ll be enough.