Page 86 of Reckless

Because every time I close my eyes, I don’t remember the bullets. I remember how he looked at me afterward, how we held each other. How desperately we needed each other.

Not asking me to forgive what he’d done.

Not asking me to understand it.

Just making sure I was still there.

Still breathing.

The photograph answered every question he never had to.

Someone had followed and watched me. Taken the time to learn my routines, to stand back with a camera while I wandered through my day completely oblivious to the fact I was already being hunted.

Ghost had seen that before I had.

And somewhere between unfolding that photograph and pulling the trigger, he’d reached a conclusion I don’t think he’ll ever apologize for.

The part I haven’t been able to shake isn’t that he killed them.

It’s the certainty that if someone stood on that same stretch of highway tomorrow with another photograph of me folded in their pocket, he would do it again.

I should hate that thought.

I should be questioning everything I thought I knew about him.

Instead, somewhere over the last six days, another realization has quietly settled beside it.

I’ve stopped wondering whether Ghost would protect me or whether he cares about me, because he told me he does.

Now I’m wondering what protecting me and caring about me will cost him.

By the time I pull into the clubhouse parking lot, I’ve gone over the whole thing so many times, I am no closer to an answer than I was the day it happened.

One thing has changed, though. Six days ago, I’d have walked through those clubhouse doors thinking about coffee, paperwork, or whether Marley had remembered to eat breakfast.

Now, before I even reach the entrance, my eyes are already moving, sweeping over the parking lot without me consciously telling them to. I notice which bikes are missing, which trucks weren’t here yesterday, where the brothers are standing, and how easily they can see every approach to the clubhouse. Somewhere along the way, I’ve started counting exits without realizing I’m doing it, mapping every room before I notice the people inside it, and I don’t think that’s a habit I’m going to lose anytime soon.

Ghost wasn’t the only one who changed on that highway.

The difference is, I don’t think either of us knows how to go back.

I drift to a stop halfway across the parking lot, my thoughts carrying me somewhere six days behind the rest of the world, and I don’t even realize I’ve stopped walking until Piper steps in front of me.

She waves both hands straight through my line of sight with exaggerated impatience. ‘Earth to Sage.’

I blink, finding her standing there with one eyebrow arched so high it’s practically disappeared into her hairline.

‘You’ve been somewhere else all week,’ she signs, now having my full attention.

A guilty smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. ‘I’m here now.’

She gives me a look that says she isn’t buying it for a second. ‘Liar.’

I sigh, because arguing with Piper has never once ended in my favor. ‘You’re rude,’ I sign, but my hand movements are aggressive.

She grins, pleased with herself. ‘I’m your sister. I’m allowed to be rude.’

I can’t even argue with that. Instead, she reaches over and bumps my shoulder with hers, her expression softening just enough to remind me she’s teasing because she’s worried, not because she’s trying to be cruel.