Reckless Hearts Novels & Stories

My eyes fluttered open to darkness, a seering pain slicing through my head as I shut my eyes with a sharp hiss. I tried again but darkness… then I felt it, wetness and cold. The events of whatever the fucking time it all happened, came crashing down! Shit! Big Cee and I had stolen some stash from a big mogul at the club… just realizing right now, that it was the biggest mistakes of our lives. We had fucked around with the wrong person! This man had found us in a matter of minutes if I am not exaggerating and the rest is history.

Grey assumes lateness and slow pace for laziness and lack of confidence. Were it not for this ceremonial day, Mrs. Grey would have already walked past me. If not passed me in haste, she would've already startled me with her firm, sharp tone. Besides, it's hard to catch a glimpse of Mrs. Grey's dentine. Her stone-cold face scared jokers away. She claimed her facial appearance is her weapon of sieving jokers from serious business persons. Still, I fail to understand why such a wealthy, strong, and beautiful woman would still wear a stone-cold face to scare scavengers and laziness. With all her wealth and our family's name, mommy could easily put off anyone overstepping her boundaries.

I said and they left. As soon they left I was scared. It was all so beautiful when I planned it in my head but why my heart is beating so fast when I am actually going to do it? *****

My heart hammered against my ribs as I felt my knees trembling in nervousness. This was the moment I’d dreaded: the start of my misery. How I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole. Death felt preferable to marrying a stranger, to facing a future I couldn't even imagine.

I need a little more luck than a little bit Cuz every time I get stuck the words won't fit And every time that I try I get tongue tied I'll need a little good luck to get me by I need a little more help than a little bit Like the perfect one word no one's heard yet Cuz every time that I try I get tongue tied I need a little good luck to get me by this time I stare up at the stars I wonder just where you are You feel a million miles away (I wonder just where you are) Was it something I said? Or something I never did? Or was I always in the way? Could someone tell me what to say to just make you stay? He doesn't care if he looks crazy right now. He was alone, so he took the ladle and used it a

**Hearts in the Storm** The storm outside rages on, mirroring the chaos within the cabin. Rain lashes against the windows, lightning occasionally illuminating the dark forest that surrounds them. Inside, tension simmers. Ethan, Sophia, Max, and Jason are all on edge, with danger looming just beyond the walls. The fire crackles, but its warmth does little to comfort them. As the gunshot echoes in the distance, fear tightens its grip on everyone, but it’s the weight of the secrets that has shattered the fragile trust between them.

[flashback] Kayla’s being scolded now for a sin that she didn't commit. It’s because her mom's favorite vase worth several million was broken. She didn’t know what happened here because when she arrived it was already broken. She was right in front of the broken vase picking up the pieces just so no one will get hurt when her mom came that's why she thought Kayla was the one who broke it and scolded her right away.

" … Edward frowned deeply. When he spoke, it sounded like he was grinding his teeth. "Jasmine, your sister is about to kill herself, and you're still thinking about a handkerchief? "Is romance really that important to you? Important enough to make you this cruel?" The moon hung high in the sky. It was already late at night. Edward turned and stormed off, his sleeve snapping in the wind. I stood alone in the middle of the street, the cold wind making my head spin. However, the colder my heart felt, the tighter I held onto the engagement document.

“VIP guest. Be careful. Don’t touch anything you don’t have to.” Lena had only nodded. She never asked questions. Questions were for people who had options. She stopped in front of the door, took a steady breath, and knocked once. No answer. She swiped the key card and entered. The smell hit her first. Alcohol. Expensive perfume. And chaos disguised as luxury. The room looked like a storm had passed through it — clothes scattered across the floor, champagne bottles half-empty, a shattered glass near the window. Rich people never cleaned up their destruction.

The ritual that was racing's religion, the violence that was about to be made elegant, the risk that was life and love and mortality made visible. Cyrus felt his own heart rate rise — not pathological, emotional, the arrhythmia of love that was not medical but was present, was his, was specific. He did not check it, did not optimize it, did not convert it to data. He simply felt it, was present with it, let it be. The lights went out. The launch that was violence, the acceleration that was physics made beautiful, the two Sullivan cars that were leading, that were winning, that were theirs.