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WHERE THE GROUND REMEMBERS
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2025-12-17 23:03:20
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The College Bad Boy's Target Chapter 152
CHAPTER 152:RYDER'S POV.I wake up before the sun.It is still dark, that soft gray hour when the world feels like it is holding its breath. The house is quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the slow sound of Ollie’s breathing beside me.For a second, I just lie there and listen to him.Last night did not end in shouting. It did not end in anger. It ended in something worse and better at the same time—truth. Ollie cried in my arms until his body went heavy with sleep. I stayed awake longer than I should have, watching his face, afraid that if I slept, I would miss something. Afraid he would disappear.I turn my head and look at him now.He is curled on his side, knees drawn up, hands tucked under his chin like a child. His hair falls into his eyes. There is a faint bruise still on his cheek. It is lighter now, but I see it every time I look at him.I reach out slowly, careful not to wake him, and brush his hair back.My chest tightens.I have fought men bigger than me. I have s
The College Bad Boy's Target Lines That Cannot Be Uncrossed
Chapter 151 — Lines That Cannot Be UncrossedRyder’s POVThe door handle stops moving.Silence slams into the room so hard it feels louder than the rattle ever was. My body stays locked in place, every instinct stretched tight, listening for a breath, a step, anything. Ollie stands frozen a few feet behind me, his fear rolling off him in waves I can almost taste.I signal for him to stay back without looking at him. I check the locks, the peephole, the hallway camera feed on my phone. Nothing. Empty corridor, dim lights, no movement. Whoever touched the handle is gone, or never meant to come in at all.That almost makes it worse.I secure the door again, slower this time, deliberately loud, grounding myself in the sound. When I turn around, Ollie has wrapped his arms around his own chest, shoulders drawn inward like he is trying to disappear.Something inside me snaps, not violently, but cleanly, like a cord pulled too tight for too long.I cross the space between us and crouch in fro
The College Bad Boy's Target What I Don't Say
Chapter 150 — What I Don’t SayOllie’s POVThe worst part is not the fear.It is the way fear changes shape, how it settles into my bones and pretends to be something else. Control. Productivity. Calm. I wake up the morning after Ryder overhears my call with my heart already racing, my body braced for confrontation that does not come right away. He watches me carefully, too carefully, like he is afraid a wrong word might make me disappear.I hate that look.So I move.I clean the kitchen before he finishes his coffee. I reorganize the shelves that do not need reorganizing. I make lists in my head, grocery lists, escape routes, things we might need if we leave again. I keep my hands busy because if I stop, if I sit, if I breathe too deeply, everything spills out at once.Ryder lets me.At first.He asks if I slept. I say enough. He asks if I want breakfast. I say later. He asks if I want to talk about yesterday. I say there is nothing to talk about. My voice is steady, convincing, almo
The College Bad Boy's Target Cracks Beneath the Calm
Chapter 149 — Cracks Beneath the CalmRyder’s POVQuiet has a sound when you live the way I do.It is not silence, not peace, not rest. It is the absence of chaos that sharpens every nerve, that makes my body wait for impact that has not arrived yet. I wake before dawn, same as always, before the light can creep through the blinds, before the city remembers how to breathe. Ollie is still asleep beside me, curled inward, knees tucked up, hands fisted into the fabric of my shirt like he might fall if he lets go.I stay still so I do not wake him.Routine is supposed to be grounding. That is what people say. Establish habits, repeat them until the mind believes things are stable again. I try. I really do. I shower, I check the locks, I scan the windows, I inventory the exits. I brew coffee I barely drink. I sit at the small table and clean my weapon even though it does not need it, because my hands need something to do.Ollie wakes an hour later.He smiles when he sees me, soft and autom
The College Bad Boy's Target THE WEIGHT OF MORNING
CHAPTER 148 — THE WEIGHT OF MORNINGRyder’s POVMorning does not erase what the night leaves behind.It only shows it more clearly.The light coming through the windows was soft, almost gentle, but it did nothing to soften the reality sitting in my chest. I stood by the kitchen counter, staring at a mug of coffee I had poured minutes ago and forgotten to drink. The smell was strong, bitter, grounding. I needed that today.Behind me, the house was quiet. Too quiet.Ollie was still asleep on the couch, wrapped in the blanket like it was the only thing keeping him anchored to this place. He had finally drifted off just before sunrise, his body giving in after fighting fear for too long. I didn’t move him to the bedroom. I didn’t want to disturb the fragile calm he had found.I leaned back against the counter and closed my eyes.For the first time since last night, my mind allowed itself to replay everything.The gunfire.Her voice.The look in Ollie’s eyes when he thought I might not mak
The College Bad Boy's Target WHAT WE SURVIVE
CHAPTER 147 — WHAT WE SURVIVERyder’s POVThe silence after violence is always the worst part.It crept in slowly, heavy and thick, like the world was holding its breath to see what would happen next. The echoes of gunfire were gone. The smell of smoke still hung in the air, mixed with oil, dust, and something sharp that burned the back of my throat. My ears rang faintly, but my mind was clear in a way it rarely was.She was down.Not dead. But finished.That mattered more than blood.I stood still for a moment, my body locked in alert mode, scanning every shadow, every corner. Years of habit refused to shut off just because the fight was over. My hand stayed tight on my weapon, my shoulders tense, my breath slow and measured.Then I felt it.Ollie’s hands.They were gripping my jacket hard, fingers curled into the fabric like he was afraid I might vanish if he let go. He was right behind me, close enough that I could feel his breathing against my back. Fast. Uneven. Alive.That matte
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