Page 66 of Reckless: Collision

He twists in the seat, one hand finding my throat. Not squeezing, just holding. Possessing. “You think you can handle our kind of game, beta?”

I meet his steel grey eyes, defiance warring with desire. “I think you’re afraid to find out.”

His fingers flex against my throat, not enough to hurt but enough to remind me what he is. What I’m not.

“You don’t want this.” His voice comes out like gravel, all sharp edges and barely contained violence. “You want the rush. The chase. The game.” His thumb traces my pulse point where it races beneath his touch. “But you don’t want us.”

The accusation hits harder than it should. “You don’t know what I want.”

“I know you’re running.” His eyes search mine with tactical precision, like he’s mapping all my weak points. “From Sterling Labs, from your friends, from yourself. And now you’re trying to run from whatever this is by turning it into a game.”

I try to pull back but his hand holds me in place. “Let go.”

“Why? Because I’m right?” His grip gentles but doesn’t release. “Because it’s easier to push us away with sex than admit you might actually feel something?”

“Fuck you.” But the words come out breathless, lacking their intended bite.

“No.” He finally drops his hand, leaving my skin cold. “That’s exactly what you want—to fuck the tension away so you don’t have to deal with the rest. To make it purely physical so you can tell yourself it doesn’t matter.”

I scramble off the bike, hating how easily he sees through my defenses. “You don’t get to psychoanalyze me.”

“Someone has to.” He dismounts with that liquid grace that makes my body ache despite my anger. “Because you’re so busy running from connection that you’ll burn everything down just to prove you don’t need anyone.”

“I don’t.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “Need anyone.”

His laugh holds no humor. “Keep telling yourself that while you parade around smelling like sex and defiance. While you try to make us lose control just to prove we will.”

“I’m not?—”

“You are.” He steps closer, all controlled power and contained rage. “And I’m not playing. Not when you’re using desire as a weapon because you’re too scared to admit you might actually fit here.”

The truth of it steals my breath.

My chest constricts as his words hit their target with tactical precision. Each syllable breaches another layer of protection—my carefully constructed indifference crumbling like poorly written code under an expert hack. The air becomes too thin, my lungs working overtime as panic sends electricity through my nerves. My fingers curl into fists, nails biting crescents into my palms as I fight the urge to run, to hide, to rebuild the walls they’re dismantling with such terrifying ease—walls that took years to fortify against exactly this kind of invasion.

“Lesson’s over.” He turns back to the bike, shoulders rigid with tension. “Get someone else to teach you. Someone who can handle your games without wanting to—” He cuts himself off, jaw clenching.

“Without wanting to what?” I push because I can’t help it, because pushing is safer than pulling.

He swings onto the bike without looking at me. “Without wanting to break every rule I have about protecting what’s mine.” He glances up at me, “and I’ll protect my pack from you if that is what I have to do.” The engine roars to life, drowning out whatever else he might have said.

I watch him disappear down the path, the bike kicking up dust that stings my eyes. That’s what I tell myself anyway—that it’s dust making them water, not the realization that I just proved him right.

I am running. From Sterling Labs, from my friends, from myself. It’s what I’m good at—breaking systems, exposing weaknesses, then vanishing before anyone can see my own vulnerabilities. Before anyone can get close enough to matter.

Except they already matter. Ryker’s controlled power matching my chaos. Jinx’s beautiful madness recognizing mine. Finn’s quiet understanding. Theo’s artistic soul seeing right through my defenses. They’ve mapped my weaknesses like I map security systems, finding exploits I didn’t even know existed.

And now I’m running from the first people who’ve ever made me want to stay. The first ones who might actually be worth the risk of stopping.

Too bad I forgot the first rule of hacking—sometimes the biggest threat isn’t to the system.

It’s to the hacker’s heart.

Chapter 15

Theo

She’s avoiding us.

---