Page 127 of Reckless

“No.” The word lands with quiet certainty. “It isn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

My laugh comes out broken. “How?”

“Because I know you.”

Silence settles between us, broken only by the ragged sound of my breathing.

“You built this case from an idea scribbled on a piece of paper,” he says. “You fought for every volunteer, every sponsor, every family that walked through those doors. One corrupt politician doesn’t get to erase that.”

My tears spill faster. “Calloway’s trying.”

“Yeah, but you won’t let him.”

“What if he wins?”

Ghost is quiet for a moment. “Then he’ll have to get through me first.”

My breath catches. “Ghost…”

“Listen to me.” His voice doesn’t rise. “You’re not doing this by yourself.” I close my eyes. “You have me.” Another tear slips free. “You have the club.” My fingers tighten around the phone. “You have every person who’s watched you fight for them over the last three years.” His voice softens even further. “So, you stop carrying this by yourself.”

I shake my head even though he can’t see it. “I d-don’t know how.”

“You don’t have to know how.” There’s the sound of a door opening on his end of the line, followed by the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle firing to life.

“Ghost…”

“Where are you?”

“The p-parking lot… at work.”

“Stay exactly where you are.” My heart stumbles. “I’m coming to get you.”

I let out a shaky breath, wiping at my face with the heel of my hand. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I kn-now.” My voice cracks around the words. “But, thank you anyway. I appreciate that you care enough to drop everything. But you don’t have to come.”

He doesn’t answer straightaway. “Sage…”

“I just…” I close my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts into something that resembles a sentence. “I think I need to go home.”

“I’m still coming.”

A watery laugh escapes me. “Ghost.”

“Baby.”

I smile despite myself. “I need to open a bottle of wine.”

“Done.”

“A really cheap bottle of wine.”