Chapter 32 - Stone

Two ambulances are parked outside the 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 known I’d be coming for him. He was waiting, biding his time. Using Eric to draw me out.

It worked. Right up until it didn’t.

Callum and I stand back at the edge of the parking lot, far from everyone else, while we watch one of the ambulances drive away. It’s the one that’s already wrapped up my left hand—that’s fortunately not broken—and patched up my leg. The gunshot wound is only a bad graze. They suggested I go to the hospital to get stitches, but I’ve stitched myself up plenty of times. I’ll do it when I get home. I might not be able to play the next games we have in a few weeks, but at least I shouldn’t be out for the season.

The cops have already talked to me and Callum, and they’re currently speaking to Eric who’s sitting in the back of the second ambulance getting his shoulder taken care of. They’re making sure our stories line up. We went through it a few times, so I’m not worried.

The back door of the coroner’s van slams shut, and the vehicle drives away with Coach Hill’s body. I wrap my arm around Callum’s waist and pull him to me, seeking his body heat against the early December chill.

Keeping most of my weight off my injured leg, I lean over and place a kiss against his cheek. “How are you feeling after your first kill?”

I ask the question seriously. Considering that the panic attack he had at the beginning of the school year was because he wanted to witness death again but didn’t want to do it himself, I’m wondering if I need to be worried.

But Callum turns his face to me and smiles. “Like you said, it was our kill. I’m okay. I promise.”

“Is it something you’d want to do again?”

Admittedly, killing with him was damn satisfying, and I wouldn’t be opposed to a repeat. Preferably, without my own gunshot wound. But only if it was something he’d want.

“Probably not.” Then he shrugs and gives me a little playful grin. “But I’ll never say never.”

A low rumble vibrates through my chest. “Tease.”

A couple of the cop cars leave after someone comes over and tells us we’re free to go. The paramedics start closing up the second ambulance while Eric walks toward us, his shoulder bandaged and his arm in a sling.

I don’t plan on telling him this, but he was bait.

When I accused Coach of being a terrible shot, I wasn’t underestimating him. It was to give Eric a false sense of security. Coach was going to pick us off one by one unless I taunted him enough to show himself. In order to tip the scales, I had to balance them first. Eric had to be collateral damage.

And, no, I don’t feel guilty about it.

Hey, he’s alive, isn’t he?

“Glad you’re okay, Cal,” Eric says as he stops in front of him. He looks at me and adds a bit begrudgingly, “You too, man.”

“How’s the shoulder?” Callum asks.

“Bad. They wanted to take me to the hospital in the ambulance, but I told them I’d take myself. There’s no exit wound, so I might need surgery to get the bullet out. I should probably get my ribs checked too. I’m most likely out for the season.”

“Sorry,” Callum says, sounding sincere.

Eric shrugs with his good shoulder. “It is what it is.” He looks back at me again. “Coach said he wanted you to stop killing his friends. Sounds like there might be more of them.”

I nod. “Yeah, I caught that. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

He doesn’t balk at that. “I still feel bad for everything I did, you know. I really am sorry. We gonna be good?”

I want to say no because anyone threatening Callum isn’t something I’d normally be able to forgive. Ever. However, I feel Callum’s eyes on the side of my face, sensing his hopeful gaze.

It’s not like I can kill him. Not easily, at least. I stashed my knife inside so the cops wouldn’t find it. I’ll have to get a new gun too. It wasn’t registered, so we were able to say both of them belonged to the coach.

Slipping my arm back from around Callum’s waist under the guise of shaking the guy’s hand, I make a fist instead. I pull it back and punch him as hard as I can in his injured shoulder.

To his credit, he doesn’t scream, just lets out a loud grunt as he stumbles backward.

“Jesus, Stone!” Callum scolds, punching me in the shoulder too. Though, not nearly as hard.

“ Now we can be good,” I tell Eric with a satisfied smirk.

Eric’s face blanches about two shades whiter than it already was when he walked up. Sweat beads across his forehead as he breathes harshly through his pain. “Okay. I deserved that.”

“You should probably get to the hospital now.” I don’t even attempt to conceal my amusement.

He nods and starts taking small steps backwards. “See you guys. Not too soon I hope.”

I can’t help but chuckle at that.

While he heads off to his car, I grab Callum’s hand and pull him in the direction of mine. It’s a bit of a slow walk, the pain in my leg causing me to limp.

When we reach my Charger, Callum asks, “Do you want me to drive?”

I don’t miss the eager inflection in his voice.

Leading him around to the driver’s side, I back him up against the door, caging him in with my hands on top of the car. I lean in and brush my lips against his. “You want to drive the Batmobile, baby?”

“Maybe,” he says, smiling against my mouth. “And you always give me what I want, right?”

I growl before pressing my lips harder to his, kissing him deep. Digging my keys out of my jeans pocket, I place them against his chest. His hand comes up over mine, taking them from me.

When I start to move away to round the car, his other hand comes up and fists the front of my hoodie. I stop, staring into his eyes that are so open, so soft.

“You’re it for me, Stone,” he says. “I just want you to know that.”

My heart swells inside my chest. I know I’ll give this man anything and everything he could ever want for the rest of my life.

“You’re it for me too, Callum. No one’s ever had a hold on me the way you do, and it just gets stronger every day. I fucking love the power you have over me, and I never want it to go away. I belong to you. I always will. For-fucking-ever.”

“For-fucking-ever,” he repeats with a gentle smile.

I kiss him once more before forcing myself away. We get in the car, and Callum holds my hand as he drives us from the scene of another kill. Maybe it’ll be the last one we do together. Maybe it won’t be.

Either way, we’ll always belong to each other.