Page 5 of Reckless: Collision

“Uh, guys?” Quinn’s voice sharpens. “You’ve got incoming. Private security team just cleared the thirtieth floor. Not Guardian uniforms.”

“That’s impossible. This is the Omega Guardian building. I designed their security.”

“Not Guardian security. Black tactical gear, military formation. Moving fast. And... something’s weird about the traffic cams across the street. Getting some glitches from the Westin building.”

Well, shit. “How many?”

“Four in the building. And there’s a black sedan that just parked in the shadows across the street. No plates.”

I’m already pulling up my own security feeds, watching dark figures move with practiced precision through the building. Could be nothing. Could be coincidence.

I don’t believe in coincidences.

My heartbeat drums against my eardrums, each pulse sending electricity through my fingertips as they blur across the keys. Sweat beads at my hairline, tiny droplets of concentration I can’t afford to wipe away. The final firewall materializes on my screen—intricate patterns of code weaving together like digital lace, so beautiful I almost hate to destroy it. Under differentcircumstances, I’d have traced each line with reverent fingers, maybe even left a little note for its creator. Instead, I unleash chaos—brute force wrapped in elegant code that tears through security protocols like tissue paper, leaving destruction in its wake that feels almost obscene in its violation.

And then I’m in.

“Oh my god,” I breathe, my chest tightening as the data unfurls before me. Medical records, research data, facility locations—all linking back to our old trafficking cases. And everywhere, that name.Sterling. My name. The coincidence feels like a noose tightening around my throat.

A red dot appears on my central monitor the same instant my hack completes. From the Westin building. Forty-second floor.

They’ve got a clean line of sight.

“Cay?” Aria’s voice seems far away. “Cay, what did you find?”

My throat closes around the truth. Some secrets aren’t meant to be spoken out loud. Some names shouldn’t be said in the dark or in the light.

“Would you be mad if I told you I’m about to do something really stupid?”

“What—”

The window explodes.

I dive sideways as glass shatters inward, my screens going dark one by one. More shots crack through the night, precise and professional. Not meant to kill—meant to destroy my equipment, my proof that Sterling Labs isn’t just watching beta health decline.

They’re causing it.

“CAY!” Aria’s voice cuts through the chaos from my fallen phone. “Quinn’s calling Puritan Security, just stay down?—”

But I’m already moving. Because while they’re trying to destroy my systems, I spot something better: the glint of a scopefrom the building opposite. Forty-second floor, third window from the left.

Got you.

The thrill of the hunt sings in my blood, replacing fear with something darker, something wilder. This is what they don’t understand about betas—we’re not bound by alpha instincts or omega intuition. We’re free to be whatever the fuck we want.

And right now? I want to be dangerous.

I’m on my feet and running before the last monitor dies. Glass is everywhere and I’m careful not to step on it. Puritan City Alphas will take the elevator, sweep the building properly, follow protocol. But I’ve got a faster route. And like hell am I letting them get away with this.

Time to show them why redheads have a reputation for being crazy.

I snag my backup drive from under the desk and my favorite accessory from the hidden panel behind my gaming posters—a custom Glock 19, bedazzled in rose pink crystals withByte Mespelled out along the slide in rhinestones. Listen, if I’m going to break laws and risk my life, I’m going to look fabulous doing it. Even if I’m still in unicorn pajamas.

Eh, still fabulous.

“Quinn,” I snap into my earpiece as I run for the emergency stairwell, adrenaline making everything sharper, brighter, “I need a route to the Westin. Preferably one that doesn’t end with me as a street pancake.”

“You’re insane,” he replies, but I hear typing. “The safety protocols you helped design specifically prevent building-to-building access?—”

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