Ricochet by Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie Read Free Book Online

Lowered body temperature is a symptom.”
    His eyes darken. “Anything else you’re keeping from me?”
    Think. “Uhh...vomiting and nausea. That’s it.”
    He nods. “I’ll drive her to the hospital. She’ll be fine.
Just, don’t have a panic attack in the street. Think you can do that?”
    I glare. “Yes.”
    Thankfully we reach the dimly lit parking deck and approach
his Infinity that’s squeezed in between a Mini Cooper and a BMW. “My keys are
in my pocket,” he tells me.
    I glance at his pants pocket. Near his
crotch.
    He rolls his eyes. “Now’s not the time to be perverted, Calloway.”
    “Right,” I say, reaching in, my cheeks flaming. He doesn’t
look happy about me digging near his penis either. I pull out his set of keys
and press the unlock button. The car honks and blinks to life, the taillights
flashing.
    “Get in the passenger seat, and I’ll put Daisy on your lap,”
he tells me. I do as he says, and he sets my gangly sister on the seat with me.
I drape her long legs to the side and put my hand to her head, clammy and cold.
I rest her cheek to my chest. In this moment, I feel solely responsible for
her.
    “To the hospital,” I remind him.
    “I know.” He turns the key into the ignition and pulls onto
the street. Only five minutes in, and we’re stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
So many people wander on the roads that they thud into Ryke’s car and throw
confetti at the windshield.
    I keep my fingers pressed to Daisy’s wrist, checking her
pulse every few seconds.
    As we sit in silence, I watch girls on the side streets,
swaying as they walk in heels, their guys keeping an arm underneath them so
they don’t face-plant on the cement. The couples remind me of Lo—only I would
have been the one holding him upright. Not the other way around.
    Last year, I wore this sparkly silver dress and decided to
be pantyless the entire night. I thought it’d be easier for a quickie in the
bathroom with Mr. Random. In retrospect, it was a bad, bad idea. I danced all
night at a fancy club and was too inebriated to realize that I flashed the
crowds with every hop.
    Lo ended up dancing beside me, keeping a hand on my shoulder
to ease my Kangaroo springs. He even tugged down the back of my dress for me.
Near midnight, he offered to give me his underwear,
which I promptly declined. I love the whole memory—even if it’s a royally
fucked up one. The only thing I try to forget is the end of that night. Where he booked a room at the Ritz to pass out in, and I slinked
into a bedroom one floor below to screw some guy.
    “Do you think he’ll still want to be with me when he gets
back?” I ask softly. Even if I wait for him, I wonder if he’ll still wait for
me.
    Ryke clenches the steering wheel tightly. “I don’t know.”
    “What do you know?” I wonder, pulling Daisy’s sweaty hair
out of her face.
    Ryke gives me a solid glare. “You masturbate too much.”
    My eyes widen, and I instinctively glance down at Daisy who
is in another dimension. She may not have even heard. Hopefully.
    “She probably won’t remember anything,” Ryke tells me.
    That doesn’t stop the mortification from swallowing my face.
Of course he couldn’t restrain himself from commenting about what I was doing
in the bathroom.
    Before I find the courage to reply back, Daisy groans and
her lids flutter. I see the whites of her eyes until they roll back to show the
green.
    “Dais.” I shake her arm.
    She turns her head a little, sluggish and weak. Her eyes
rise to meet Ryke’s. He keeps one hand firmly on the steering wheel, his
fingers clenched around it as he stares down at her. After a long moment of the
two of them just fucking staring at
each other, Ryke asks, “You going to puke?”
    She blinks heavily and says, “No.”
    Ryke clicks off his seatbelt and puts the car in park. He
opens his car door.  
    “What are you doing?” I gape at him.
    “She was being sarcastic,” he tells me.
    I frown. That did not