Page 31 of Reasons We Break

An idea strikes her, all at once.

Nick notices. “What?”

It leaves her reeling for a second, the absurdity of it...yet, before she can stop herself, she asks, “His debts just need to be repaid?”

“What, you planning to give him a loan?” Nick laughs. “You don’t have that kind of money. Trust me.”

Simran glances down at the brown-papered bricks in the freezer again. This idea is bad. It’s not logical. And yet...it’s perfectly logical, in a way.

She takes a deep breath. “I have a proposal for you.”

RAJAN MAKES ITa block from Oliver’s house before he spots an ice-cream truck at the curb. No surprise. Whoever was watching that feed would’ve dialed Nick as soon as Rajan discovered it.

Outside the truck are two white LS guys, passing a cigarette back and forth on the sidewalk. When they notice him, casually tapping his bat against the pavement as he approaches, they drop the cigarette and face him. Like that’s going to stop him. Rajan cracks his neck.

Just then, the back door of the truck cracks open. A girl saunters out and closes it behind her.

Not just any girl.“Zohra?”

She looks nearly the same as the last time he saw her—dressed in a crop top and sweatpants that sag on her hips, although that choker at her neck hints at her expensive taste. Her hair is bottle blond and stick straight, instead of black and wavy like he remembers. But. She’s unmistakable.

Zohra smirks at his speechlessness. “Hi, Rajan. Long time no see.”

“What’reyoudoing here?” If anything could have defused his mission to personally beat Nick’s ass, it was her.

Zohra is LS, too, but informally. Girls in the LS are valuable; they get away with more. Cops are less likely to frisk them. Less likely to suspect the pretty girl in the passenger seat. Hell, she’s carried Rajan’s gun multiple times when they were together, in her Guess purse. As long as she keeps squeaky clean, no one’s the wiser; and Zohra’s so clean, she’s on track for law school. Where she’ll inevitably come out the other end defending Lions in court. She is, after all, really good at convincing people to do things.

Zohra draws closer. His hackles rise with every step. “Would you believe it if I said I missed you, and I came with Nick to make sure you were okay?”

“No.” With her standing a foot away, Rajan can now see the shadows under her eyes are gone, as are the purple-yellow bruises on her arms. Even the way she carries herself—different.

“I like the haircut,” Zohra announces, and he realizes she’s been studying him, too. “Jail wasgoodto you.”

Her flirtatious tone snaps him out of it. “Stop stalling, Z. Where’s Nick?”

As if on cue, the truck’s back doors open again.

Nick looks bored. He’s dressed incognito in an unassuming getup, which can only mean he’s been off suckering somebody. “Leave your pieces with our boys. I mean it.”

“I don’t have guns, I’m onprobation.” But the two goons pat him down anyway and take his bat. “Fine. As if I’m the untrustworthy one here.”

“You never get over anything, do you? Come on.” Nick disappears into the van, but Rajan hesitates. Are the Lions about to cut their losses with him?

Nick’s head pops back out. “You still passed the test, you know. Everyone could tell where things were going if you didn’t find the camera.”

“That was fucked up,” Rajan snaps. “That guy—”

“Beggedfor a chance to get his shit kicked. His debts are cleared. Yours, not so much.”

Rajan grinds his teeth together and steps up to the truck. Zohra follows; the doors shut behind them. Nick flicks a light on. Finally, the inside of the truck is illuminated and...and...

Rajan goes very still.

“Not another step,” Nick says. Rajan barely hears. He can’t take his eyes off Simran.

Simran, leaning against the wall, like she’s on the bus instead of in the lion’s den.

He takes a step forward without realizing, only stopping when Nick cocks his gun. “Did you not hear me?”