Page 132 of Reasons We Break

Several pieces click into place, and once Rajan gets it—well, he’s sort of impressed.

Only Zach knew him from high school, when Rajan brought his bat to fights; so only Zach would’ve recognized the rolling pin move as his. And he’d connected the dots—if Rajan was at the café attack, Rajan also knew the bookkeeper. But Zach hadn’t told his higher-ups. No, he’d wanted to pursue his lead without any interference. He knew if he let his idea get out, others would take over the operation.Andthe glory for any success.

Unfortunately, this also means Zach is very invested in his lead working out. Rajan blinks sweat away. “I would’ve given them up already if I knew who they were. You think I give two shits about the Lions? Come on.” Zach just stands there, eyes bright, and Rajan adds, “Please.”

Zach grins then. Snake Tattoo huffs a little laugh and points his gun at Rajan’s head. He stares down the barrel, unable to muster a reaction. His life is over. Fine. He accepted that days ago.

But...Simran is alive. He can practically still feel her pulse pounding against his lips. And he can either die here wondering if they’ll eventually find her and kill her too, or he can go knowing he saved her.

And so the decision comes to him easily, settling into his bones with a calm he didn’t know he was still capable of.

“It’s me,” Rajan says. “I’m the bookkeeper.”

HIS WORDS AREmet with laughter.

“And I’m the Easter Bunny,” Zach says once he’s done wheezing. “Seriously, buddy, you were so stupid in high school you needed tutoring just to graduate. You expect me to believeyou’rekeeping the Lions’ books? That you cracked ours?”

“As if your books are hard to crack? Internet Explorer’s got better security.”

Snake Tattoo wrenches him forward by the hoodie, but Zach holds a hand up.

“Don’t.”

With a frustrated sigh, Snake Tattoo shoves him back. Rajan steadies himself. Why does Zach keep defending him? The dude should be first in line to rock his shit.

“Your bookkeeper must be pretty important,” Zach says. “For you to protect them like this.”

“The only reason I’m telling you now is forKat,” Rajan retorts. “She’s a shit PO, but that doesn’t mean I want her dead.” But he can tell they’re growing restless. Time to change tactics. But how? He can’t even sell it to himself. How many times did he sit in the Northridge library, watching Simran command numbers into order and privately wishing he could do the same? She so easily dismantled equations into simple parts and, just as easily, combined them into something more complicated. Even now it’s as frustrating as it is awe-inspiring. Math is a whole different language, and if you miss evenonepart, you’re lost...

“I can prove I’m the bookkeeper,” Rajan says after a moment.

Zach scoffs. “How?”

He nods at the ledgers in Zach’s hands and channels Simran. “Give me a pen.”

“He can’t be far,” Nick says once Simran explains her suspicions. “If you just saw him, we have a radius.”

“How many people can you get on the search?”

“Dunno.” He’s zipping things in the background. Loading a gun. “Most people looking for him want the reward for killing him.”

Simran swallows. “But Rajan has the ledgers. Doesn’t Manny want those back?”

“If you’re right, the ledgers are already in Ace hands. They’ll just spray the scene with bullets, and Rajan, too.Ifhe’s still alive.”

“Of course he’s alive.” TJ leans in, clearly hanging on to every word, but Simran doesn’t care. “They kept him this long. He’s valuable.”

A pause. “Simran,” Nick says softly, “I need you to prepare yourself. If we’re too late...well, the Aces can be—”

“No.” Simran hangs up. Notnoin the sense that she’s denying Nick’s claim. Not an answer to anything he said. Just a refusal to listen to more. She doesn’t like feeling helpless.

She pushes through the washroom door and heads to the main lobby in search of her mom. She needs the car keys. Stupidly, she didn’t bring her own truck.

TJ trots after her. “What wasthatabout? Rajan was just here. And who’re the Aces? Like, the Silver Aces? The gang?” She laughs.

Simran marches for the doorway back into the banquet hall. Is it her imagination, or are the people in the lobby giving her strange looks?

“Simran,” TJ says.