Page 39 of Ride Me Reckless
"What about him?" I said, tossing the words out like I didn't care. Like they didn't land heavy between my ribs.
Callie didn't take the bait. She just raised an eyebrow, lips quirking in that way she had when she knew she was pushing a bruise.
"You tell me," she said.
I blew out a breath. "I don't know. We don't talk."
"You sent him a message after the race."
"That was just…" I trailed off, shrugging. "I don't know. Habit. He used to be there for stuff like this."
Used to be.
That phrase hit harder than I meant it to.
Callie didn't say anything for a beat, then stopped walking. "Be honest. Before Hale called—before the check—was going home your backup plan?"
I hesitated. Then nodded, just once.
"Yeah."
"And now?"
"Now I've got options," I said. "We've got options. This changes everything."
But even as I said it, the words tasted strange in my mouth. I had fought so hard for this win. For a chance to write my own damn ending. And yet… a piece of me still looked back.
"You think you can move on without ever knowing?" Callie asked gently. "Without ever finding out what's still there—or what's not?"
I hated how much that question got under my skin. I shook my head, half-laughing. "He's Colt. He'll always be there. That's who he is."
But the second the words left my mouth, I knew I didn't believe them anymore.
People changed. People left. Even the ones who swore they never would.
We started walking again. The Hale trailer faded behind us. The sun was almost gone now, just a burnished edge along the horizon.
I pulled my phone from my back pocket, thumb already swiping up.
"I told Mama I'd call her tonight," I said, more to myself than to Callie.
She just gave me a small smile. "You always do."
Callie unlocked the trailer door, balancing a box of leftover energy drinks on one hip. "She's probably sittin' out back with a glass of sweet tea, watchin' the sun do its thing."
"Yeah." I hit her contact and brought the phone to my ear, listening to the rings echo in the quiet.
No answer.
Not even a voicemail this time.
I frowned but didn't panic. "She probably left the phone inside again."
Callie ducked into the trailer. "Told you. Porch swing and sunset. She'll call when she finds it."
I stayed outside a second longer, phone still in hand, thumb hovering over the screen. The quiet was heavier now. The afterglow of the champagne toast had worn off, and something cold had crept into its place.
Then my phone lit up again.
