Page 3 of Reckless: Chaos

Two words that define everything I am to them—and everything I’m not.

I swallow down the pain, forcing it deep where it can’t show on my face. My mother’s lessons echo in my head:never let them see how deep they cut.

“Sterling Labs is manufacturing a beta virus, killing betas around the globe.” My voice comes out steady, each word precise despite the alcohol warming my blood. “I did what I had to do to find proof.”

I toss back the rest of my drink, letting the burn match the one behind my eyes. Let them judge me. Let them draw their lines. Some truths are worth the cost of belonging.

“She’s right.” Finn’s whisper cuts through the tension like a blade.

“What?” Ryker’s shock mirrors the disbelief on his face as he turns to our resident beta.

“The virus, it’s spreading.” Finn removes his glasses, cleaning them with shaking hands. A nervous tell I’ve never seen from him before. “Death rate is fifty percent.”

“What?” The alpha mask slips as Ryker moves to Finn, snatching the tablet from his hands. “No, this can’t be.”

“Believe it.” Finn’s voice carries a tremor that makes my chest ache. Because this is real. This is happening. Our people are dying.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” The hurt in Theo’s voice slices deeper than Ryker’s anger ever could.

“I was told to leave it to Quinn to figure out. Not to worry about it.” The words taste like ash and whiskey. My hands shake as I turn back to the drink cart, needing something to dull the edges of this moment. “To trust.”

A tear escapes, falling into my glass with a silent splash that somehow echoes louder than any accusation. The room goes still, as if that single display of weakness has frozen time.

“You are both on lockdown.” Ryker’s voice cuts through the silence, all alpha power again. “Cayenne, you and Finn will remain in the mansion at all times. Anyone who leaves will be in quarantine for a week.”

I sip my drink slower this time, turning to face whatever judgment comes next. Finn doesn’t protest, too absorbed in his tablet, in the reality of what’s happening to our designation.

“You didn’t trust us.” Ryker’s accusation carries layers of hurt beneath the anger.

“I didn’t know you.” The truth burns worse than the whiskey. “I saved your ass tonight.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. “You hid a vital secret.”

“I was told to trust the process.” Alcohol makes my tongue sharp, reckless. My body feels warm, disconnected from the weight of what’s happening. “Look where that landed us. It’s been weeks, and Quinn had a chance to tell you, didn’t he?”

The silence answers louder than words.

Until the phone rings.

The red corded phone on his desk looks like something out of a war room, like we’re playing at soldiers while our people die.

“Don’t you run.” He points at me before answering, the gesture both threat and plea. “Locke.”

Quinn’s voice comes through faintly. Ryker’s face transforms with each word from the phone—jaw tightening until a muscle jumps beneath his skin, eyes narrowing to steel slits, nostrils flaring with each sharp intake of breath. I search for the softening around his mouth that might signal good news, for the slight relaxation of his shoulders that could offer hope, but find only deeper lines etching between his brows.

He hangs up, pressing a button that makes the bookshelf part like something out of a spy movie. Quinn’s face appears on a monitor, grim and tired.

“Sterling Labs is blaming the attack on a rogue hacktivist.” Quinn’s eyes fix on me, and I don’t bother denying it. Some labels fit too well to argue.

“The canister, is it a match?” Ryker changes topics, trying to salvage some control over this spiraling situation.

I sink deeper into my chair, studying my glass. Whiskey. Definitely whiskey. The goal isn’t drunk—it’s numb. Just numb enough to get through this without completely shattering.

“It’s a match.” Quinn’s sigh carries the weight of failure. “They did attack us. The whole building is getting a security upgrade. We’ve lost five omegas who don’t think it’s safe. And one beta guard who felt unsafe as well.”

Ryker nods, each individual leaving the safety of Omega Guardians hitting him like a physical blow. “The beta virus. How far did you get at uncovering it?”

Quinn shakes his head, defeat aging him years in moments. “I’m good, but I’m not Cayenne good.”

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