Page 57 of Reasons We Break
But the thing is, he’s not wired normal anymore. Whenever something goes even slightly wrong in his life, he starts thinking about it again. He knows it’s bad. He feels like a bad person right now, asking Zohra to take him to Nick, but that doesn’t stop him. He’s so tired of fighting it. And for what? Trying to set a good example for Sukha? That’s already failed. So who the hell is he suffering for?
Zohra picks him up in the ice-cream truck. She’s driving tonight, in a little black dress. She gives him a once-over when he clambers into the passenger’s seat. And clearly, she picks up on his mood. “Nick’s not at the café. He’s at Manny’s for a party.”
Nick has the good stuff. “Then take me to Manny’s.”
Zohra hits the gas without asking more questions. Rajan’s used to her reckless driving and therefore knows to brace his shoulder against her sharp turns. His father’s words, meanwhile, continue to echo in his mind. They were too calculated to be spur-of-the-moment. No, his father’s held his tongue for alongtime.
Rajan’s reminded of the end of grade twelve, when he accompanied his mother to Surrey. She was going to see new specialists for her transplant issues. His father had work and his brothers had school; Rajan was the only one available. His father begged him to stay out of trouble for once. Rajan had scoffed. He wasn’tthatmuch of an asshole. He could keep it together for his mom.
But, the move was hard. The appointments were painful. Watching his mom waste away was excruciating. It didn’t help that his aunt’s family, who they stayed with, knew his reputation and treated him like shit. It helped even less that his mother never tried to defend him when they criticized him. She was probably too exhausted, but it still hurt.
He took it for her sake. Sometimes he needed help staying mellow enough to do so. It was easy to get connected—and then, of course, he met Nick and Zohra. With them, he drowned his frustration in stronger ways. It was the exact opposite of the bare minimum his father asked of him.
Knowing that, Rajan supposes he should be grateful his father didn’t scream at him at the funeral. At that time, his father hardly showed any emotion at all, not even when Rajan said he was sorry. He just looked at the casket and told him the bank was taking the house. And it would be best for everyone—particularly his brothers—if Rajan didn’t come back to Kelowna. At least until things “settled down.”
He did not elaborate on what “settled down” meant. He also did not look at Rajan as he said it. But, for once in his life, Rajan did as he was told.
He dropped out of the community college his mom had convinced him to enroll in. He spent his days sleeping off the night before. He regularly came home with blood on his shoes, wasted at all hours, and when he stumbled in one morning with an LS tattoo he didn’t remember getting, his aunt finally kicked him out.
Life accelerated; time loosened and flew. His nights became a blur of jobs with Nick and Zohra, with his baseball bat and gun and the lines of coke Nick provided to keep him happy. The only thing he remembers clearly is that he wasgoodat what he did—at being a Lion. It was the only thing he was ever truly good at.
Rajan’s pulled out of memories when Zohra says, “We’re here.”
They’ve driven up a long winding hill in a rich neighbourhood, the houses bigger and more sprawling the farther they’ve gone. And now they’re at the gates of one of the grandest. Real fancy gates, too, with black statues of lions perched on stylized khandas. Rajan stares at them as they pass. The irony of the Sikh symbolism in the LS isn’t lost on him. Just like the Sikh warriors of old, they want you to feel like you’re part of something bigger. Like a soldier fighting for a cause you would die for. Except in the Lions’ case, it’s not a very good one.
He jumps out of the truck before Zohra has fully parked next to a bunch of BMWs. She catches up and grabs his hand. “Put your arm around me. We have to look like we’re together.”
He pulls away. “You and me are done, remember?”
“This is foryou. There’s a lot of people here.” She leans into him. “You haven’t seen what it’s been like. After...you got arrested. What people think of you.”
“That what? I’m not loyal?” He rolls his eyes and presses forward. “Well, nobody’s killed me yet.”
Zohra doesn’t answer, just hooks her hand around his elbow.
They cross the manicured lawn. From what Rajan can see through the glass, this is a rich-people-only event. Diamonds glint from ears, pale champagne is passed hand to hand, and he catches a flash of white powder on a glass table. He turns to Zohra abruptly. “Where’s Nick?”
“This way.” She steers him away from the grand front doors, away from the curious eyes, and they circle around back until they reach a service entrance. The music is quieter here. Once inside, she leads him up a staircase. In different circumstances, Rajan might be intrigued by the bird’s-eye view he now has of the party scene below, but today, he’s more interested in where they finally come to a halt: a door with a lion’s crest.
Nick opens it at Zohra’s knock, lit joint in hand. His eyebrows rise at the sight of Rajan behind her. “I don’t have a job for you yet, it’s only been a few hours.”
Rajan steps forward. Now that they’re face-to-face, a different question has sprung to mind. “Is my brother in the Lions?”
The only indicator of Nick’s surprise is a slow blink. After a moment he says, “Rajan, you know I don’t keep track of every low-level shithead in the Lions. Especially not in Kelowna. Or have you forgotten I’m only here temporarily?”
Rajan honestly cannot tell if he’s lying. But then again, he’s got a point. When Rajan was younger, he, too, was on the fringes. Running drugs, doing dirty work. People didn’t know him. He was expendable. That was part of why he worked so hard togetknown. And it didn’t really happen until he met Nick.
Rajan narrows his eyes at the thought. “If you ever come near him, I’ll kill you.”
Nick yawns theatrically. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now go away.”
He starts closing the door, but Rajan sticks his foot in the way. “Wait. That’s not...what I’m here for.”
Nick scans his expression. Rajan doesn’t know what he sees, but whatever it is makes him turn to Zohra. “You brought him herewhy?”
“You know he doesn’t stop when he gets like this.” She sounds slightly defensive. “Better he uses with us than somewhere else.”
“Well, too bad. I don’t have anything.”