Page 88 of Reckless: Chaos

The thingabout rooftops before dawn—they’re perfect for calculating trajectories. Distance between points, force required for each jump, the exact angle needed to clear obstacles. Like debugging code, but with the added risk of gravity-induced system failure.

I’ve been up here for an hour, running the numbers in my head. Calculating parkour routes, mapping trajectories, trying to think of anything except the beta virus’s death toll. Trying not to count the hours until the next victim falls, trying not to feel helpless while we wait for a new secure location.

The emerald beanie sits heavy on my head, a constant reminder of connections I’ll have to sever. Of promises I’ll have to break.

“Can’t sleep either?” Jinx’s voice carries across the roof, but I don’t startle. Something in me knew he’d find me up here—our chaotic energies always seem to sync at the worst possible times.

“Sleep is for people who don’t have complex mathematical equations to solve.”

He moves closer, all predatory grace and barely contained energy. The pre-dawn shadows suit him, making his edges seem sharper, more dangerous.

“Equations about the best route across the maintenance shed,” his grin holds teeth, “or equations about how to end this virus without leading Sterling to more victims?”

My heart stutters, but I keep my voice steady. “Both, actually. Want to help me test the first one?”

His laugh sounds like breaking code. “Always up for a little chaos at 3AM.”

He doesn’t mention the hat. Doesn’t need to. We both feel its weight between us—this piece of him I’m wearing while plotting my escape.

I take a moment to memorize him like this—wild and beautiful in the pre-dawn light. His usual hoodie is missing, leaving him in just a black tank that shows off the controlled power in his arms. Even his ever-present baseball cap is absent, letting me see how his dark hair falls across his forehead, softening the manic light in his eyes.

Some people are art in motion. Jinx is beautiful disaster given flesh.

“See something you like?” His grin turns knowing, but there’s something else beneath it. Something protective, almost predatory in its intensity.

“Just appreciating the view.” I force lightness into my tone. “Not often I get to see you without seventeen layers of cotton armor.”

He stretches, all lean muscle and barely contained violence. A new tattoo peaks out from under his tank—something angular and sharp that probably has a story I’ll never get to hear.

“Race you to the greenhouse?” He bounces on his toes, that feral energy seeking release. “Unless you’re scared.”

“Please.” I stand, grateful for the familiar banter. “I’ve mapped every route up here. Calculated every angle.”

“Some things can’t be calculated.” He moves to the edge, moonlight catching the scars on his knuckles. More stories waiting to be uncovered when this is all over.

“Says the man who taught me that specific jump requires exactly 37 degrees of rotation.”

His laugh echoes across the roof. “Maybe I just like watching you overthink everything.”

“Maybe I just like watching you underthink everything,” I counter, moving to stand beside him. “Like that time you tried to clear the garden wall without checking the landing zone.”

“Those rose bushes came out of nowhere.” But his grin turns wicked as he eyes the greenhouse. “First one there chooses the next run?”

“You’re on.” I adjust the beanie, making sure it’s secure. “On three?”

He’s already moving. “Three!”

“Cheater!” But I’m right behind him, muscle memory taking over as we race across the rooftop.

He’s pure instinct, taking jumps that should be impossible with a grace that defies physics. I follow my calculated route, each move precise, planned—right up until he suddenly changes direction, forcing me to adapt.

“Keep up, little beta!” His laugh carries back to me as he vaults over a ventilation unit. “Or are you too busy doing math?”

“Some of us,” I call back, using his distraction to gain ground, “prefer not to face-plant into air conditioning units!”

“That was one time!”

We’re neck and neck now, the greenhouse getting closer. He has the advantage in raw power, but I know these routes better. Have spent hours mapping every possible path while fighting insomnia.

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