Page 43 of Reckless: Corruption

His shoulders tense, and he reaches for a chess piece—the white knight—rolling it between his fingers like he’s measuring its weight. “We didn’t exactly make trust easy.”

“Look at me, Finn.” I wait until those too-bright eyes lock onto mine. “I’m officially retiring from the Olympic running team. No more bolting when things get complicated. No more hacking and running. I’m sticking with this mess—with the pack—even when it scares the hell out of me.”

A small smile plays at his lips, though it seems to take effort. “Even from Mona’s medical lectures about proper nutrient absorption rates?”

“Well, maybe from those.” I reach for the soup that smells like actual food instead of hospital slop. “Half her medical terms sound like she’s keysmashing with a science dictionary. Though I’m pretty sure metabolic disruption cascade is just Mona-speak for you’re gonna feel like crap for a while.”

“Your move.” He nods toward the chess board, already set up with an opening I recognize from games we played before everything went to hell. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

The invitation carries weight beyond the simple words. This is Finn offering me what I need most—normalcy, challenge, connection without pressure.

“Knight to F6.” I smile as he makes the move for me, his fingers steady again as they lift the frosted glass piece. “You’re going for the Ruy Lopez, aren’t you?”

“Am I that predictable?” His eyes spark with challenge despite the fatigue etched around them.

“To me? Always.” I take another spoonful of soup, the warmth settling in my still-recovering body. “You forget I’ve watched you analyze security systems. You always start with solid fundamentals before trying anything flashy.”

“While you...” He moves his bishop to B5, the classic attack. “You go for chaos right out of the gate.”

“Controlled chaos,” I correct, gesturing for him to move my pawn to C6. “There’s always a method.”

“Like running straight into Sterling Labs with no backup?”

The question lands like a check I didn’t see coming. “Low blow, Professor.”

“Just pointing out that your methods sometimes need...” His fingers brush mine as he hands me the remote, his skin burning hot against my own. “Refinement.”

“Come sit with me?” The request comes out more vulnerable than I intend, gesturing to the space beside me on the couch. “I promise not to infect you with my plague.”

Something soft crosses his face. “Pretty sure that ship has sailed.”

I lift the blanket in invitation, and he settles beside me, our shoulders touching. The contact grounds me like a properly secured connection, reminding me of all the quiet moments I’ve missed while trying to be strong alone. He lifts the chess board, setting it between us on the couch.

“Bishop to A4,” he says, moving his piece. “Your turn.”

His laptop sits open on the chair he abandoned, lines of code scrolling across the screen in a diagnostic pattern I recognize. “Having trouble with something?”

“Maybe.” He tries to sound casual, but I know that tone—the one that says a problem has been twisting his brain into knots. “There’s this firewall that’s being particularly stubborn. I’ve been trying to find a way through it to access some of Sterling’s research servers.”

“Show me?”

He reaches for the laptop, and I catch the slight tremble in his hands before he stills it through sheer force of will. The code is elegant but complex—exactly the kind of puzzle my fever-clearing mind has been itching to solve.

“Oh, that’s mean.” I study the pattern while absently moving my knight to F6. “Whoever built this likes to play dirty. Look at how they’ve nested the authentication protocols.”

“I’ve been working on it for hours.” His voice carries exhaustion that seems deeper than one stubborn firewall would cause. “Can’t quite see the pattern.”

“Here.” I point to a sequence. “They’ve hidden a backdoor in plain sight. See how this variable keeps shifting? It’s not random—it’s a Fibonacci sequence wrapped in binary.”

He leans closer, our heads together like we’re sharing secrets. Just like this, it’s easy to forget everything that came between us—all the fear and running and noble intentions. Right now, we’re just two betas doing what we do best: solving puzzles together.

“It’s brilliant,” he murmurs, fingers hovering over the keys. “But every system has a vulnerability.”

“Just like people,” I say quietly.

He glances at me, something unspoken passing between us. “Check.”

I look down to see his bishop threatening my king. “Sneaky.”

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