Page 109 of Reckless Hearts

This isn’t courage or peace or pride.

This is devastation.

I want to scream. I want to fight. I want to claw my way out of this. Beg. Plead. Bargain with the devil himself if it means I get one more shot. One more breath. One more second to make things right.

Everything I shoved down, every feeling I tried to bury, is breaking through the cracks now. All that time I wasted pretending I didn’t care. Pretending it didn’t matter. It’s unraveling around me, and I’d give anything to rewind it. To get it back.

A flash of copper in the haze, Callie’s hair, maybe, or my mind playing tricks. Maverick’s voice, faint like a memory, yelling my name.

I see their faces, and it’s like getting kicked in the chest all over again. Because that’s what hurts most. Not the pain. The loss. The not-getting-to-go-back.

If I could just have one more chance, justone. I’d get it right.

I’d hold on to the people who matter and never let go.

I’d tell Maverick that I want more, more than friends, more than rivals.

I’d tell Callie she was the only thing that ever made this life make sense.

I’d fight like hell for them, not for a buckle or a title, but for the pieces of my heart I never should have handed away so carelessly.

I’d figure it out with Mav, because who the hell cares what happened orwhyit happened? I should’ve fixed it a long time ago. I should’ve said something. I should’ve fought harder. I should have chased afterher.

God, just give me one more chance. One. That’s all I need.

I won’t waste it. I swear to God, I won’t waste it.

Then hands. Grabbing my vest. Hauling me up and flipping me over.

The rope slips free, and for one glorious, weightless second, I think I’m okay. I think maybe I’ll walk away from this. Then the bull turns. Fast. Brutal.

And I don’t stand a goddamn chance.

I collapse, not strong enough to stand, and he’s on me before I can move. His weight crashes into my ribs, stomps over my legs. The ground disappears beneath me, and I’m sucked under him.

My face is shoved into the dirt, lungs scraping for air, breathing in sand with every gasp.

Pain swallows me whole.

Not from the crush. Not from the bruises or broken bones.

But from the raw, agonizingunfairnessof it all.

A crack rings through my skull, jarring straight down my spine.

And as the world blacks out, my final thought follows me into unconsciousness:

I never told them I love them.

Chapter 38

Callie

I don’t watchthe rides.

Not anymore.

So I stay in the back tonight, tucked behind the trailers, pretending I’m too busy brushing down a horse to care about what’s happening out there. Maverick teases me when I make up the excuse, but he doesn’t push. Colt doesn’t either. There’s this quiet understanding in his eyes, like he knows exactly what I’m running from.

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