Page 37 of Reckless Hearts

I owe her an apology.

She’s not responding to any of my texts.

I almost message Colt but if she wanted him, he’d be with her, not yelling at me.

That leaves the old-fashioned way.

I start checking every room.

No sign of her.

Nobody’s seen her either.

A few offer to help me look, but something tells me Callie wouldn’t want that much attention.

That being said, if I don’t find her in the next five minutes, I’ll have every damn person in here searching.

The longer it takes, the worse the feeling in my gut gets.

Something’s seriously wrong.

Chapter 12

Callie

Trigger warning:On page panic attack.

Maverick’s facecolliding with the bull’s skull.

The crack loud enough to reach me in the stands and then… blood. Crimson pouring down his nose, covering his lips, soaking his shirt. Darkness crowds the corners of my vision, static filling my ears as my heart bangs hard enough in my chest to break my ribs.

I know this feeling. Rapid breaths, coming out so fast I can’t speak, growing more light-headed by the second. The only thing breaking through is my overwhelming need to get as far away from here as possible.

The daughter of the great Harper Ridge Ranch passing out on live TV is not something I want to experience. Not when I promised my mom I’m okay. Not when Maverick and Colt don’t know.

My fingers skim the walls as I take the hallway corners too fast, feet racing to escape before everything goes black.

Pressure builds behind my eyes as I search through rooms, finding them all occupied.

I need somewhere quiet. Somewhere hidden. Somewhere no one will find me.

I nearly miss the plain wood door to my right, so inconspicuous it blends into the wall.

The sign says Custodian.

If I could breathe, I’m sure relief would flood me at the sight of the empty space. Instead, my knees give out the second I close the door behind me.

Weak and scared. Two words I never want to describe myself.

From experience, this will end eventually whether by passing out or simply time, I can’t be sure.

Red fills the back of my scrunched lids… blood… Maverick’s blood.

That vision morphs into an old one, locked away, shoved deep inside me.

It shakes and rattles loose, the binding not strong enough to keep the memories sealed anymore.

All I can see is my dad on the stretcher.

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