Page 150 of Reckless

I look away.

Liam watches the two brothers work, but hangs back, taking it all in. Ghost’s phone is already in his other hand, photographing each image before carefully turning it over to capture the reverse, uploading everything as he works.

Koa studies the cardboard box, the tape, the shipping label, saying almost nothing, his attention fixed on details I wouldn’t have noticed.

For several long minutes, the only sounds are camera shutters, the occasional scratch of tape lifting from cardboard, and traffic drifting past on the street beyond the parking lot.

Ghost finally straightens, and his eyes meet mine. The fury sitting behind them is colder than anything I’ve seen before. “They wanted you scared.”

My throat tightens. “It’s fucking working.”

He closes the box again with slow, careful hands. “They got our attention.”

He looks down at Piper’s photograph one last time before lifting his eyes back to mine. “They’re not getting anything else.” The certainty in his voice settles somewhere deep inside me.

Not because I think the danger has disappeared, but because I know he means every word.

Ghost slides the photographs back into the box one at a time, keeping them in the same order they arrived. Once the last image disappears beneath the cardboard flaps, he folds them closed and closes the trunk. “Bag it when we get back,” he says to Koa.

Koa nods, pulling off his gloves and sliding them into his jeans pocket.

Ghost turns to me. “We’re done here.”

I automatically reach for my keys. “I’ll meet you back at the clubhouse.”

He holds out his hand, and I look down at it, then back at him. “Ghost…”

He doesn’t move or repeat himself. He just waits. I let out a tired sigh and place my keys in his palm.

The corners of his mouth threaten the smallest hint of a smile before disappearing again.

Without looking away from me, he says, “Liam.”

“Yeah?”

“Call Kyle.” Liam’s phone is already coming out of his pocket. “Tell him to Uber here, then grab my bike and bring it back to the clubhouse.”

“You got it.”

Ghost slips his keys into Liam’s hands before opening the passenger door of my car. “In.”

“I really am capable of driving myself.”

“I know.”

I fold my arms defiantly while he raises an eyebrow. “Sage.” There’s no edge to it or frustration. Just that impossibly calm certainty I’ve learned means the conversation is already over. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

I stare at him for another second before giving up with an exaggerated sigh. “You know, for a quiet guy, you’re incredibly bossy.”

A flicker of amusement finally reaches his eyes. “So I’ve been told.”

I climb into the passenger seat. He closes the door behind me before walking around the front of the car and sliding into the driver’s seat.

The engine turns over, and neither of us speaks as he pulls out of the parking lot. Vegas slips past the windows in streaks of late-afternoon light, traffic carrying on as if today were no different from any other.

Inside the car, everything feels different.

My hands rest in my lap until the silence becomes too much. Without thinking, I reach across the center console and lay my hand gently on Ghost’s forearm where it rests against the steering wheel. He glances down once. His fingers leave the wheel just long enough to cover mine, giving it one slow squeeze before returning his attention to the road.