Page 43 of Reckless: Collision

“Jinx.” Finn’s voice shakes. “Stay down. Please.”

I roll, catching Cayenne as she starts toward me. Her smaller body fits perfectly under mine, and something primitive in my brain purrs at having her pinned.

“Don’t move, Cayenne.” Finn’s voice cracks on the last syllable, his normally steady hands now visibly shaking as he takes a half-step forward before freezing in place.

“Jinx, let her free.” Ryker’s words emerge rougher than usual, a microscopic tremor running through them that I’ve never heard before—not even during our worst missions. His body has gone unnaturally still, muscles coiled so tightly I can see individual tendons standing out along his forearms.

“Jinx.” Finn’s breathing has accelerated, his glasses slipping down his nose unnoticed as beads of sweat form along his hairline. The air around him seems to shiver with the sharp tang of distress—something between burnt coffee and static electricity.

I hide my smile against Cayenne’s throat, breathing in that addictive citrus. The voices in my head quiet for the first time since waking.

“Hey there.” Her voice holds no fear, just that same sharp challenge that drew me to her in that bathroom. “Havoc.”

I lift my head, really seeing her. My hand cradles her skull, protecting it from the concrete even in my feral state. Her hair feels like silk against my fingertips. So soft. Too soft for someone like me.

“Glitch,” I whisper, focusing on her face. My glitch in the matrix. My beautiful system error.

“Jinx, let her go!” Ryker’s alpha command rolls over me like thunder.

I laugh, and it sounds unhinged even to my broken mind. “No.”

“Ryker.” Theo’s voice floats over, smooth as smoke. “Use your pack bond.”

“Hey.” Cayenne’s legs wrap around my waist, drawing me into her heat. The winter air suddenly feels miles away. “Focus on me.”

I let her pull me closer, let her unexpected softness ease the beast raging behind my eyes. She hums, the sound vibrating between us. “There you are, big guy.”

“I prefer Havoc.”

Her smile transforms her entire face—teeth flashing white against flushed lips, eyes crinkling at the corners with a mischief that makes the air between us seem to crackle with electricity. The temperature rises three degrees in our immediate vicinity, the concrete beneath us somehow warming despite the evening chill. “Okay, Havoc.” Her fingertips create five points of burning contact as they slide up my chest, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. “Come here often?”

I lean down, nipping her ear where I marked her before. “Not yet.”

“That so?”

“Are they flirting?” Finn sounds scandalized. “In the middle of his episode?”

She arches under me, all invitation and challenge. “Wanna fuck?”

The last of the red haze burns away, replaced by something darker. Something hungrier. A laugh bubbles up from my soul, real and unrestrained.

I drop my head to her throat, right over my previous mark. “You may not know it yet,” I whisper against her skin, feeling her pulse jump. “But you’re mine, Glitch.”

The pack bonds writhe between us like living things—Ryker’s frustration burning hot as forge-iron against my consciousness, Finn’s disbelief tingling like static electricity along my spine, Theo’s knowing amusement wrapping around me like silk cords. But all these sensations fade beneath the overwhelming realityof Cayenne’s body against mine—the way her scent explodes with cinnamon heat and electric interest, the way her curves slot perfectly against my angles like puzzle pieces clicking into place with an almost audible sound.

Made for me.

My broken pieces recognize hers.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, my father’s ghost fades. His laughter replaced by Cayenne’s steady heartbeat against my chest. The red haze that usually takes hours to dissipate burns away in seconds.

“If you two are done eye-fucking each other,” Ryker growls, “we have a situation.”

“PCA?” I keep Cayenne pinned beneath me as I turn my head, eyeing the man still face-down on the concrete.

“Since when do we have guards?”

“Since about three hours ago.” Ryker’s growl holds a hint of guilt now. “I was going to brief everyone at dinner.”

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