Page 67 of Reckless: Chaos

Ryker looks at each of us in turn, probably cataloging all the ways this could go wrong. But I see the moment he gives in—right about when Aria mentions she knows three different ways to make someone talk using just a nail file.

“Fine.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “But I’m driving, and Jinx comes with us.”

“Obviously.” I stand, only stumbling a little. “Someone has to look scary in the background while we work.”

“This is such a bad idea,” he mutters, but he’s already reaching for his keys.

“The worst,” I agree cheerfully. “But just think—by this time tomorrow, we’ll either have all the answers...”

“Or have started a war,” Willow finishes.

“Same thing,” Aria, Ginger, and I say in perfect drunk-girl harmony.

Ryker’s sigh could move mountains. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

Four identical grins answer him. Poor alpha never stood a chance.

Chapter 15

Jinx

There’ssomething beautiful about watching your alpha lose an argument to four drunk women. Ryker stands in the doorway, all leather and imposing presence, while they systematically destroy every objection he raises. The chaos of it settles something in my fractured mind—like watching a particularly satisfying explosion.

“No,” he says for the fifth time, but his voice carries less conviction than the first four.

“Yes,” they chorus back, swaying slightly but determined. The PR one—Ginger—is using words likeopticsandcrisis managementwhile Cayenne’s eyes spark with that dangerous light I usually see right before something explodes.

The feral part of me wants to join their mayhem. The protective part wants to lock them all in the basement until the world makes sense again. The rest of me just enjoys the show.

“You’re not interrogating our prisoner.” Ryker tries for alpha power, but it slides right off them like water off kevlar.

“Of course not.” Willow’s omega counselor voice could probably talk down a bomb. “We’re just going to have a friendly chat.”

“With the man we caught trying to kill us.” His jaw works overtime.

“While looking completely harmless.” Aria examines her nails—those perfect, deadly points that could probably double as lock picks.

“Absolutely helpless,” Cayenne adds, and something in my chest clenches at her tone. It’s the same one she used this morning, playing docile while plotting revenge.

My little beta’s learned some tricks.

“Jinx.” Ryker turns to me, probably hoping for backup. “Tell them this is insane.”

I consider it. Consider the prisoner waiting in my old PCA cleanup site, probably expecting more alpha intimidation. Consider how these women could destroy him without leaving a mark.

“Let’s give them their shot,” I offer instead, earning four identical grins and one betrayed alpha glare.

Sometimes the best kind of chaos is the kind you don’t see coming.

“I’m driving.” Ryker cuts in because of course he does. Can’t let the feral alpha behind the wheel with precious cargo.

Fair enough. My hands haven’t stopped shaking since this morning’s violence. Since watching our beta’s face crumple when she realized what we’d done.

The women pile into his SUV like it’s a clown car, all giggles and whispered plans that probably violate several Geneva Conventions. Cayenne ends up wedged between her friends in the back, looking more alive than I’ve seen her in weeks.

Guilt tastes like copper in my mouth.

“So,” Ginger leans forward between the seats, her PR polish cracking to reveal something sharper. “Tell us about our guest.”

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