Page 119 of Reasons We Break

But, more than likely, it was just a teaser. Rajan’s heard the horror stories. Someone you bought weed from last week gets left hanging in the rafters of some warehouse. A godfather is kidnapped and the search stretches for days before they’re found, nearly unrecognizable, in the trunk of a car. Shit like that. Sometimes it’s to make a point, or to get intel. Sometimes, it’s just because.

Buthewas too careful to be caught, Rajan always thought. He’d fight them off. He’d do any number of things to protect his own safety. Yet here he is.

A different kind of fear grips him. The kind he doesn’t like to admit to: being scared forhimself. What right does he have to be scared for himself? What’s there to protect? Nothing. But he can’t help it.

Rajan steels himself. The worst thing he could do right now is show fear. “I know the LS has a bookkeeper.” That, everyone knows. “But I don’tknowthem. I’m not that important.”

The Ace tilts his head, studying him. For a second, Rajan thinks he believes him. It’s a reasonable lie, after all. But then he turns his head. “I think he needs a little help remembering, boys.”

Rajan finally focuses on the group that has entered. They’re clustered behind Hat Stealer, but when he moves aside, Rajan’s gaze fixates on one of them. Wait. It can’t be...

The familiar figure saunters closer, flicking a lighter on and off until he stops in front of him. And then, an amused little huff.

“Don’t look so surprised, Rajan,” Zach Singer says. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

TWO DAYS AFTERRajan leaves town, Simran has heard nothing from him. She supposes he’s just doing what he said they should—cutting ties. She can practically hear him saying,Move on.

But it’s still bitter.

When Rajan didn’t answer his phone that day after Hillway, she called Nick, who confirmed it. “Yeah, he told me. Only to threaten me to get you out of the LS.” His voice was wry. “I guess his PO figured he might’ve been in contact with the Lions? Instead of taking him to court, they moved him.”

“But,” Simran whispered, her mind spinning. “He didn’t tell me. He’s not answering his phone.”

“He didn’t have time to tell you.”

“But he toldyou?” Silence. “Never mind.” She was lowering the phone when Nick’s tinny voice started talking again. She brought it back to her ear. “What?”

“I said, he hasn’t picked up my calls either. You’re not the only one he’s ignoring.”

On the third day of Rajan’s absence, she tries to take her mind off him. She picks up her new glasses, which admittedly look good. She practices her rabab, then studies the ledger photos she took at Manny’s mansion. She uploads them onto several USBs, and they sit on her desk, mocking her.What are you going to do with us, huh?

She’s still trying to figure that out when her phone chimes. She grabs it lightning fast, but it’s just Kiran.I’m here.

Right. Kiran’s arrived, of course, a day before Neetu’s engagement reception. She loves weddings a lot for someone who never plans to have one.

When Simran opens the door, Kiran’s on the step, bag in hand. They stare at each other.

Her hair is longer, now hanging around her chin in a bob. Her face is flushed from dragging her filled-to-bursting suitcase, and she has a new dragon tattoo on the sleeve on her arm. “You should cover that up before Mom notices,” Simran tells her. “She’ll make a big deal of it.”

All at once Kiran surges forward, dropping her bag to sweep her into a hug.

“God, I missed your righteous ass,” Kiran whispers. “I’m not hiding my tattoo. It’s bangin’.”

Simran surprises herself by hugging back. Despite their last argument, she missed Kiran, too. And what is there to resent anymore? That Kiran’s free and Simran isn’t? Simranhadfreedom these last few months—and look what she did. Her family’s in danger because of her. Maybe it’s best they go back to how things were.

When they let go, Kiran’s smile fades. “Mom’s doing better, isn’t she? There hasn’t been more bad news?” When Simran shakes her head, she frowns. “Then why do you look...so sad?”

Does she? Simran tries to lift the corners of her mouth. “I’m not. Just tired.” Clearly Kiran hasn’t heard the gossip recently.

Kiran looks unconvinced. “You took on way too much stress with Mom’s thing. Go do something fun tonight. See your friends. I’ll tell Mom and Dad you’re volunteering somewhere.”

Friends? Simran fights a laugh. “I have to make dinner.”

“I’ll make it,” Kiran says, shocking her into silence. Simran must lookverytired. “You must have someone you could hang out with. It’s Friday night. How are you eighteen with no Friday-night plans?”

Kiran sounds aghast. Simran, for the record, likes staying in. But Kiran’s words jog her memory somewhat. ItisFriday night, and shedoeshave a standing invitation somewhere, and sheisdesperate to fill the hole in her chest.

“Fine,” Simran says. “Don’t burn the kitchen down.”