Page 93 of Reckless: Collision

“Just jump!”

I choose option E: none of the above, letting momentum take me on a wild ride that ends with me face-first in a snowbank, laughing so hard I can barely breathe.

“That was...” Finn starts.

“Impressive?” I emerge from the snow like a yeti, grinning despite the cold seeping down my neck.

“I was going to say terrifying,” Ryker growls, but he’s already helping me up, brushing snow from my coat with more gentleness than his tone suggests.

“I liked the part where you invented a whole new sledding technique,” Theo offers diplomatically. “Very avant-garde.”

“That’s one word for it.” Jinx scoops up a handful of snow, packing it with deadly precision. “I prefer...”

The snowball hits me square in the chest.

Everything freezes for a heartbeat—four men watching to see how I’ll react to this declaration of war. I slowly bend down, gathering my own ammunition.

“You know,” I say casually, “I may not be good at sledding yet.” I straighten up, snowball perfect in my gloved hand. “But I have excellent aim.”

The projectile catches Jinx right in that smirking mouth.

“Oh, it’s on.” His grin turns feral. “Teams?”

“Every alpha for themselves,” I counter, already diving behind a snow drift as chaos erupts.

Theo immediately proves that artistic grace translates to deadly accuracy. Finn’s calculations mean nothing when Ryker dumps snow down his back. And Jinx... Jinx becomes a snow-throwing demon, somehow everywhere at once.

But I grew up on strategy games, and snow isn’t so different from code—it’s all about reading patterns and exploiting weaknesses.

I build my fortress while they’re distracted with each other, analyzing their patterns like I would network traffic. Theo moves with deadly grace but leaves his left side exposed. Finn overthinks his shots, calculating trajectories when he should be dodging. Ryker’s tactical expertise makes him formidable, but he’s focused on protecting others more than winning. And Jinx... Jinx is pure beautiful chaos, but chaos can be predicted if you know where to look.

Time to execute my plan.

I let Finn and Ryker wear each other down with precision strikes while Theo and Jinx engage in what looks like interpretive dance with snow. Then, when they’re all focused on their respective battles, I strike.

A rapid-fire barrage catches Finn off guard—one to the chest, another to the knee. He goes down dramatically, glasses fogged and covered in snow. “I’ve been hit! Man down!”

“Finn!” Theo’s distraction costs him. My snowball catches him in the shoulder, spinning him into a drift.

“You’ll pay for that!” But he’s laughing as he falls, making a snow angel instead of retaliating.

Ryker proves harder to take down. He dodges three shots, using trees as cover, but forgets to watch his six. The snow I packed just right slides down his neck, making him curse in what sounds like Russian.

“Language, Alpha.” I duck his return fire, already moving to my final target.

Jinx meets my eyes across the battlefield, snow in his wild hair, that feral grin promising retribution. “Just you and me now, Glitch.”

“Surrender?”

“Never.”

We circle each other like predators, snowballs at ready. He moves first—fast as lightning, but I’m already rolling away. My counter-attack catches him in the chest, but he doesn’t go down.

“Is that all you’ve got?” He packs another snowball, eyes never leaving mine.

I let him think he has me cornered, backing toward a tree. He advances, victory in his stance, unaware that he’s walking right into my trap.

“Any last words?” He raises his arm to throw.

---