Page 42 of Reckless: Corruption

“Tell me if Mona tries to set anything else on fire.”

His laugh carries notes of music I want to learn by heart. “I think Ryker’s got her distracted with some theoretical discussion about the combustion properties of various research facilities. Very scientific. Much strategic planning.”

“You’re starting to sound like her.”

“God help us all.” He scoops me up with gentle care. “Come on, piccola. Let’s get you home.”

Home. Such a simple word for such a complicated truth. Home.

Chapter 11

Cayenne

The delicious scentof food drags me from dreams of glitter-mustached unicorns and binary code waterfalls. My stomach growls loud enough to startle me fully awake, the sound almost offensive after days of fever-induced nausea.

The disorientation hits next—this isn’t Theo’s nest of comfort and healing. Instead, I’m sprawled on the family room couch, blankets carrying traces of pack scent wrapped around me like layers of security code.

I stretch tentatively, cataloging improvements—my muscles still ache but no longer scream at every movement. The stabbing pain in my side has dulled to a persistent throb, and my thoughts no longer scatter like glitter when I try to focus.

Progress, even if it’s measured in centimeters rather than miles. Enough progress that Theo finally agreed to let me move from his nest to the common area this morning, though the protective concern in his eyes suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced.

The TV’s silent flicker draws my attention before I’m ready. Numbers scroll across the screen, each digit a death toll that makes my heart stutter. Beta casualties rising—over two hundred in Chicago alone yesterday. Hospitals overwhelmed,with footage of makeshift treatment centers in school gymnasiums. A tearful interview with a woman who lost her beta husband and teenage son in the same day plays silently behind a news ticker announcing Sterling Labs’ promising breakthrough treatments, even as their stock plummets in real-time.

My enhanced beta senses—Sterling’s unwantedgift—pick up conversations three rooms away, the vibration of phones, the careful movement of pack members packing essential items. Something’s happening, decisions being made while I’ve been trapped in fever dreams.

“Don’t watch that.” Finn’s voice carries forced steadiness as he sets a tray on the coffee table, the ceramic clinking softly against wood. “Nothing you can fix today.”

I study him over the blanket’s edge. There’s something different in the way he holds himself—a careful precision that goes beyond his usual methodical nature. His movements remind me of fragile code, performing flawlessly while hiding fatal errors beneath the surface. My newly heightened beta senses detect an undertone to his scent—something sharp and wrong beneath the rain-washed calm I’ve come to associate with him.

“Leave it on,” I counter, yanking the blanket up to my chin like it might shield me from the death count scrolling behind him. “Besides, last time you guys decided toprotectme from information, I ended up with my brother using me as a pincushion. Let’s not repeat that disaster.”

Finn hesitates, remote suspended between us. A slight tremor ripples through his hand—barely there, gone so quickly I almost think I imagined it. He shifts his grip, disguising the shake as he passes the remote to me.

“At least eat something first.” He settles into the armchair across from me, a chess board already set up on the side table. The pieces gleam in morning light—obsidian and frostedglass, arranged in perfect formation. “Mona left very specific instructions about caloric intake and recovery metrics. With charts. Many charts.”

“Of course she did.” I eye the soup he’s brought—something that smells amazing and probably has exact nutritional calculations attached to it. “How is my sister settling in? Has she set anything important on fire yet?”

“She’s...” He pauses, lips quirking up despite the shadows under his eyes. “She’s converted the guest house into something between a laboratory and a doomsday bunker. There might have been a small chemical reaction that resulted in some... thermal excitement.”

“Thermal excitement?”

“A fire.” He adjusts a chess piece, his fingers lingering a beat too long to steady themselves. “But she did cure the bees of their aggression issues, so we’re counting it as progress.”

A laugh bubbles up, then catches in my throat as the news continues its silent scroll of death behind him. More betas gone. More families shattered. More of Sterling’s legacy painted in blood and data.

“What’s with all the movement?” I gesture toward the hallway. “I can hear Ryker on at least three different calls, and Jinx hasn’t stopped moving since dawn.”

Finn’s expression shifts to something carefully neutral. “We can’t stay here. Sterling knows this location—it’s only a matter of time before he sends someone. Mona’s certain of it.” His fingers trace the edge of a chess piece. “We’re setting up a new safe house. Somewhere off-grid, somewhere he won’t expect.”

I absorb this, guilt settling heavy in my chest. “So I’ve cost you your home too.”

“No,” Finn says firmly. “Sterling’s obsession cost us a house. There’s a difference.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, surprising even myself. “For bolting. For thinking I could handle Sterling’s crazy family reunion solo. For...” I wave at the TV where beta death counts keep climbing like a stock ticker from hell. “For all this mess I dragged you guys into.”

Finn’s hands clench on the arms of his chair. “You did what you thought was right.”

“No.” The truth hits me like a system crash. “I did what was easy. I’ve got running coded into my DNA at this point. Easier to bolt than stick around for the hard conversations. Easier to play lone hacker than risk someone seeing past my firewall.”

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