Page 99 of Reckless: Collision

The chair creaks as she stands, forcing me to step back. “Private auction site on the dark web. Bidding started at fifty thousand for—” Her voice breaks, rage replacing fear in her scent.

“You’re the one.” The realization crashes through me. “The anonymous tip. The data dump that exposed?—”

“Everything.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I found them. I saw what they were doing. What they—” She swallows hard. “Those omegas. Some of them were just kids.”

“You saw the footage.” It’s not a question. The horror in her eyes tells me everything.

“All of it. Every fucking second.” Her hand reaches out, touching my chest right above my heart. “And you didn’t kill them slowly enough.”

The touch burns through me, unexpected and electric. “You should be afraid of me.”

“You’re not a psychopath, Jinx.” Her voice is steel wrapped in velvet. “You’re a fucking hero. Those alphas? They were the monsters. The real ones. The ones who smiled while they—” She cuts herself off, fingers curling against my skin. “What you did? That wasn’t murder. It was justice.”

“You don’t understand. I liked it. The killing. The blood.”

“Good.” The word hits like a thunderclap. “Because I would have liked it too. Would have done it myself if I could have. But I’m just a beta with a keyboard.” Her eyes lock with mine, showing no fear now. Only fierce understanding. “So I found them. And you? You made them pay.”

Her words hit me like absolution I never knew I needed. The darkness in my head stutters, confronted with understanding where there should be fear.

“I dream about it sometimes,” she continues, her hand still pressed against my chest like an anchor. “What they did to those omegas. I couldn’t sleep for weeks after seeing those files. After tracking the money, the trading routes, the—” She draws in a shaky breath. “But then the whole operation went dark. Six alphas found dead, and suddenly every trafficking ring in three states started running scared.”

“Because of what I am.” The words taste like ash.

“Because of what you did.” She steps closer, and her lemon scent wraps around me, clean and sharp and honest. “You know what I see when I look at you?”

I can’t speak. Can’t move. Her presence fills all the broken spaces in my head.

“I see someone who does the things the rest of us can’t. Who carries the darkness so others don’t have to.” Her other hand comes up, framing my face. “You’re not broken, Jinx. You’re necessary.”

Something cracks in my chest. A dam breaking, flooding me with emotions I can’t name. No one’s ever looked at me like this. Like my darkness isn’t something to fix or fear, but something to understand. To accept.

“You should run.” The words come out rough, desperate. One last attempt to save her from myself.

“Funny.” Her thumb traces my cheekbone, and I lean into it like a starving man. “That’s what they told me about hacking those servers. About exposing the truth. Sometimes running isn’t the answer.”

“What is?”

Her lips curve into a smile that makes my heart stutter. “Standing your ground. Fighting back. Finding people who see your darkness and sayme too.”

I don’t know who moves first. Maybe we both do. But suddenly her lips are on mine, and it’s nothing like that first desperate encounter in the bathroom. This is slower, deeper. A recognition of shared shadows, of matching pieces we didn’t know were missing.

She tastes like understanding. Like acceptance. Like home.

When we break apart, her eyes are dark with something that isn’t fear at all. “Now,” she whispers against my lips, “want to tell me what this new job is?”

For the first time in days, the constant whispers in my mind still to a hush, the static between my thoughts clearing like fog burning away under morning sun.

Chapter 22

Cayenne

Balance isn’tsomething I’ve ever been good at. My life has always been extremes—all in or all out, full throttle or dead stop. But standing here in Jinx’s room, my lips still tingling from our kiss, I’m starting to understand what equilibrium feels like.

“We should find Ryker.” Jinx’s voice has lost its earlier edge, settling into something steadier. His fingers brush against my hip, a touch that feels both casual and deliberate. “He’s in the office with Finn.”

I catalog the changes in him—the way his shoulders have loosened, how his movements flow instead of snap. It’s like watching a predator settle into its skin, no less dangerous but more... contained.

“And Theo?” The omega’s absence feels deliberate, especially given what I now know about their last mission.

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