Page 10 of Reckless: Collision

“Exit through the loading dock,” Quinn sighs. “I’ve got a car waiting.”

“Aww, you do love me!”

“I’m preventing a hostage situation. Also, you owe me new servers.”

I hit the ground floor running, water squishing between my toes. My feet are on fire, my arm’s throbbing, and my unicorn pajamas are probably ruined forever. But I’ve got the data linking Sterling Labs to the beta illnesses, and more importantly, I’ve got?—

The loading dock door opens right on cue—thank you, Quinn—and I sprint straight into...

Aria. Standing next to a sleek black car, arms crossed, eyebrow raised in that way that makes hardened criminals confess their sins.

“So,” she says as I skid to a stop, dripping on the concrete. “Found something interesting did you?”

I grin, pulling the backup drive from my waterproof pajama pocket. “Oh honey, you have no idea. But maybe we should discuss it somewhere that isn’t currently experiencing an indoor monsoon?”

“Get in the car, you disaster.” But she’s fighting a smile. “Quinn’s erasing the security footage.”

“And the assassins?”

“Puritan Security will find two suspiciously well-trained civilians with weapons that definitely aren’t registered to any known security firm.” She slides into the driver’s seat. “Amazing what you can discover when you have access to their comms.”

I drop into the passenger seat, finally letting myself feel the adrenaline crash. Everything hurts, but the drive in my pocket is worth every cut and bruise. “This is why you’re my best friend.”

“Because I enable your terrible life choices?”

“Because you make my terrible life choices look professionally executed. Besides, you’re the one who first noticed the pattern in beta hospital admissions.”

We peel out of the parking garage just as more security vehicles arrive. Through the windshield, another Sterling Labs billboard looms overhead, their promise of “Beta Health Innovation” casting sickly green light across our faces. In the distance, sirens wail.

“You know,” Aria says as we merge into traffic, “normal people don’t spend their Tuesday nights starting gun fights in secure buildings.”

I pull out my phone, already composing a message to my contact at the Federal Observer. “Normal is boring. Besides...” I hold up the drive, grinning as streetlights catch the rhinestones on my gun. “I think we just found something bigger than a Nobel Prize.”

“Does this mean I should cancel my plans for the rest of the week?”

“Oh definitely.” I send the email, then lean back, watching my city blur past, another Sterling Labs billboard looming overhead. Something in these files is going to change everything. Including what I thought I knew about my own name. I can feel it in my bones. Or maybe that’s just glass shards.

“Cay?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time? Maybe lead withhey, want to help me expose a criminal enterpriseinstead of making me think you’re dead.”

I laugh, wild and free and just a little bit crazy. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Chapter 2

Cayenne

I fucked up.

My stomach caves in on itself, leaden and cold. I curl my fingers into my palms, nails digging half-moons into the flesh. Okay, I didn’t just fuck up—I made epically bad decisions, and right now I’m facing that legendary find out stage. The warning signs had flashed neon-bright. The risks had screamed in capital letters. And I’d grinned and sprinted right past them anyway, middle fingers raised.

Voices ricochet off the conference room walls, each syllable a bullet finding its mark. The leather chair grows slick beneath my sweating palms. I shrink two inches smaller with each accusation hurled across the polished mahogany. The room’s temperature seems to drop with every disappointed glance, until I’m fifteen again—slouched in the principal’s office, watching adults discuss my future while the Highway to Hell incident report sits between us like a bomb.

I should feel bad about this. And I do. I totally do.

At no point did I think about all the omegas in the building I put in danger.

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