Page 126 of Reckless

I slide into the driver’s seat because my legs have stopped being reliable somewhere in the last thirty seconds.

The door barely closes before another sob rips through me. Tears spill faster than I can wipe them away. Every thought piles on top of the last until I can’t tell where one ends and another begins.

They’re going to shut us down.

The fundraiser is over.

The families will think I lied to them.

Everyone believed in me.

I failed them.

The last thought lodges itself hard somewhere deep inside me.

I failed them.

It repeats.

Louder.

Again…

I failed them.

My phone is sitting on the passenger seat. I don’t remember putting it there, but my hand reaches for it anyway.

Ghost.

My thumb presses his name, and he answers before the first ring finishes.

“I just saw it come through,” he says immediately. “I flagged the regulatory board’s system six days ago. Someone accessed Unsilenced’s file outside normal review protocol. I’ve been tracing it sinc—” He stops. “Sage?”

I try to answer, but another sob comes out instead, and his voice changes instantly.

The analyst disappears, and the man I adore takes over. “Hey?”

I lean my head back against the seat, my heart steadying at hearing his voice, but the tears still fall.

“I’m here, baby.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force air into lungs that have forgotten how. “I…”

“You don’t have to talk.” His voice is calm enough that I grab onto it. “I’ve got you.” Another sob tears through me. “I’ve got you, Sage,” he repeats, slower this time, like he’s laying each word down somewhere solid enough for me to stand on. “Stay with me, baby.”

“I can’t,” I choke out. “Ghost, I can’t.”

“You can.” No hesitation. No doubt. “You are the strongest badass I know.”

I press my forehead against the steering wheel, clutching the phone so tightly my hand hurts.

“Listen to me.” I nod before realizing he can’t see it. “Sage?”

“I’m here.”

“Good.” His voice stays impossibly steady. “That’s all I need right now.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, another sob catching somewhere between my chest and my throat. “Everything’s gone,” I whisper. “Ghost… it’s all gone.”