Page 17 of Reckless

Not complete.

I don’t think losing Marcus will ever stop hurting these people.

But this? This feels like the wound finally learning how to grow around hope instead of only grief. The thought catches me completely off guard. Before I can stop it, baby Marcus stretches one tiny hand out from the blanket, and his fingers brush mine. Then, with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever, they curl around my index finger. Such a tiny grip, barely any strength behind it, and somehow it still feels like the surest thing I’ve held in years.

I don’t think he knows who I am.

I don’t think he knows anything except warmth, voices, and the steady beat of hearts around him. But in that moment, wrapped in the blue hospital blanket Vicks was desperate to have him in, with his impossibly small hand holding onto my finger like letting go isn’t an option.

Something inside me gives way.

Just enough to make my chest ache in the quietest, most unexpected way.

Maybe this is what family does.

It keeps finding ways to make room.

Even after loss.

Especially after loss.

It’s the only way I can describe it. Something warm and enormous floods through me, and my eyes are burning before I can catch up to it, and I look down at this tiny, perfect human, and I have to blink hard twice before I trust my voice. “Hey, kid.” My voice comes out quieter than I mean it to. “You are going to have the most chaotic family. I just want you to know that upfront.” I look up.

Nitro has been pacing the hallway since we got here. Koa and Bear have somehow managed to drink enough coffee to keep the hospital running for a week without sitting still for more than five minutes. And Ghost is across the room, standing against the far wall, separate and aware of everything happening around him.

He’s looking at me holding Marcus.

For the briefest second, the look on Ghost’s face softens around the edges in a way I’ve never seen before, and it catches me completely off guard. I almost look away before I remember how to breathe, but Marley leans her head against my shoulder, drawing my attention back to Marcus, and whatever I’d just seen is gone.

“You look right like that,” Marley says softly, more for me than anyone else.

“Don’t start.” I shift Marcus gently in my arms.

She says nothing else, but her grin stays.

***

The hospital doors slide shut behind us, and the desert night wraps around my skin, warm enough that the heat is still rising off the asphalt in slow waves. Engines rumble to life across the parking lot as the brothers drift toward their bikes and trucks in twos and threes, nobody in much of a hurry to leave after a day like today.

I’m fishing through my jacket pocket for my keys when another set of boots falls into step beside me.

I don’t need to look.

Somehow, I already know.

Ghost matches my pace without changing his stride, like he was already walking at this speed, and I just happened to fall in beside him. “You’ve been different,” he says. “The last couple of weeks.”

“That’s a little vague.”

He raises a brow. “It’s also true.”

I huff out a quiet laugh. “Do you always open conversations like you’re presenting evidence?”

“Usually.”

A reluctant smile tugs at my mouth before I shove it back where it belongs. “I’m fine.”

He glances at me. It’s the same look he gives everyone—quiet and steady—the kind that somehow makes people start talking before they have decided they’re going to.