Page 118 of Reasons We Break

Yash finally laughs, and Rajan playfully shoves his head down into his pillow, grateful they’re back to this. Then he rolls out of the bed and to his feet.

Surprisingly, Sukha’s door is open. Sukha is lounging on his bed, pointedly looking at his phone. Rajan’s sure Sukha’s heard every conversation in this house over the last few days: with Yash, with Kat, their dad, even with Simran’s mom. There’s nothing left to say.

However, he still feels compelled to saysomething. “I’m leaving.”

Sukha yawns.

Well, if that’s how it’s gonna be. Rajan steps back, lingering at the door to take one last look at his bunny, and the baseball beside it. Then he walks away.

It’s silent behind him. But Rajan feels a prickle in his neck telling him that only now, with his back turned, is Sukha watching him go.

Their father is waiting by the front door. “I spoke to my cousin,” he says to Rajan. “The one in Halifax. She’ll take you, for now.”

His eyes are red-rimmed, his face expressionless. When Rajan steps forward to hug him, because that feels like the thing to do, the embrace is formal and distant. His father nods when Rajan steps away. The briefest of acknowledgements: They both agree this course of action is the best one.

Rajan picks up his bag and remembers a happier time—when his father was one of the most loving people in the world. Regularly affectionate with his sons and his wife. But that well dried up; he’s stopped giving his love so easily, Rajan thinks. Because it hurt him too much.

For all that’s wrong between the two of them, Rajan can’t fault him for that.

Rajan has the taxi driver make one stop before the airport—the Hillway office. There, he fills out an evaluation for his mentor. He writes a glowing recommendation. He writes until he runs out of room and then he flips over the paper to finish.

When he hands it in, Paul’s eyebrows are raised. Rajan doesn’t care how suspicious it looks. “She’s amazing,” he tells Paul. “You’ll never find another one like her.” He doesn’t wait for a response before leaving.

The taxi is idling outside. Rajan gets in, and the driver is silent, pulling out of the space before Rajan’s even closed the door. Rajan leans back. Simran’s going to be pissed when she hears. Honestly, if she calls him about it, he’s not entirely sure he’ll have the strength to ignore her.

The taxi turns onto a side street. He glances at the driver, who’s reaching into his coat pocket. “Hey, are we going the right—”

The taxi driver tases him.

When Rajan comes to, he’s tied to a chair.

It takes him a while to wake completely. He must’ve been drugged. But once he does, he registers that it’s totally dark. And cold; his hoodie’s gone. While waiting for his vision to adjust, he tests the bonds binding his ankles to the chair legs and his wrists behind his back. They’re thin, plastic-y. Zip ties.

Fuck. He issoscrewed. He squashes down his panic, though, because he suddenly gets the sense he’s not alone.

He can see better now. The walls are metal and ridged like a tin can. The room is long and rectangular, stretching maybe forty feet ahead of him. It’s a storage container.

And there’s a man in here with him.

He’s been standing completely still, to the side. When Rajan looks his way, he draws closer, as if he was waiting to be noticed.

Rajan doesn’t recognize him. Some white guy in his thirties. Wearing Rajan’s cap as if it’s his. In a leather jacket and...steel-toed, reinforced boots. That doesn’t bode well.

Hat Stealer considers him. “Word on the street is, you know who the Lions’ bookkeeper is.” His voice is monotone, bored.

Rajan’s heart drops. He already knew deep down he got taken by the Aces, but now it’s confirmed. They’re still looking for Simran. Of course they are. And if that’s what they want from him...he knows, right then, that he’s spending the rest of his life in this storage container.

It’s notfair. He promised Yash he would come back, damn it, hepromised.And Sukha...he barely said anything to Sukha when he left. God, he should’ve said more. He should’ve told him he loved him, too.

He flexes his wrists, looking for any give in the ties. There isn’t. “You’ve got the wrong guy. I’m not with the Lions anymore.”

“That right?” Hat Stealer knocks on the wall before turning back to him. “Word on the streetalsosays you’re the one who put Axel in the hospital, during the café hit.”

As he speaks, the door to the storage container opens slightly. Sunlight hits the floor. Rajan keeps his eyes on Hat Stealer. “A lot of bullshit words being said on the street, then. I’m on probation, I’m not involved.”

Out of nowhere, the guy punches him in the face.

The chair tips backward, but Hat Stealer steadies it almost gently. Rajan tests his jaw. That wasn’t actually too bad.