Page 87 of Reasons We Break

Work today is at a three-storey house they’re re-shingling. The cloudy July sky forecasts rain. Bad news for a roofing company, and the foreman is in a shit mood when Rajan shows up, barking at him to get to work already.

Rajan and Trevor are assigned on a section together. As usual, Trevor talks too much. As usual, Rajan tries to tune him out.

Trevor notices, though. “You’re in a mood.”

“Just noticed today, huh?”

Trevor doesn’t seem to get it. Raindrops splatter the shingles they’re laying down. “Trouble with your girlfriend?”

Rajan pauses. Was it Trevor that gave Nick the intel about Chandani? “One-time thing.”

“That’s not the one I’m talking about.”

His voice is sly. As the rain comes down in earnest, Rajan processes what he means. There was that day—at UBCO—when Rajan talked to Simran on the worksite. Interrogated her, really, about her dealings with the Lions. It hadn’t occurred to him that people were watching.

A foreboding feeling crawls up his neck. Today, Kat was warning him off from rival gangs. What she didn’t realize was that he might have more to fear from his own people. They’re watching, they’re reporting on him to their higher-ups, they’re narcing to his PO, and—he suddenly remembers Nick’s and Zohra’s warnings about him not being welcome—maybe they’re waiting for the right moment to off him.

The thought feels ridiculous. At first. Because then he thinks about the stink eye everyone gives him when he talks to Simran at the café. Not only has Rajan become useless to the Lions, but he might now be actively getting in their way.

He’s spared from answering Trevor because the foreman shouts to cover the roof. The rain’s too heavy.

Trevor runs to grab the tarp, and they lay it down on the unfinished parts. Rajan reaches for the zip ties to secure it in his vest pocket, but it’s empty. He could’ve sworn he had some earlier.

Trevor stands. “I’ll get more.”

Rajan sits back while Trevor darts over to the edge of the roof to his ladder. Something about the whole group—Trevor, the foreman, everybody—seems off today. He can’t put his finger on it. God, Kat really got into his head, didn’t she—

Thump.

Rajan looks up. “Trevor?”

No answer. Trevor’s not on the roof anymore.

Rajan stands. He may not like the guy, but that doesn’t mean he wants him to break his neck. “Trevor!”

He walks quickly to the edge of the roof. But right before he can look over the side, his boot connects with something heavy.

He barely has a second to look down and note the heavy hammer that’s justlyingthere before he loses balance. Reflexively, he shifts his weight, but the tarp under his feet slips. He doesn’t even have time to curse before he tips backward off the roof.

And falls. Headfirst.

Some instinct makes him stretch out his arms, looking for something, anything to grab onto. Miraculously, his hand hooks around something—a beam?—and his fall stops all at once, violently wrenching his shoulder.

Pain explodes through it.

It’s so intense, he loses his breath. Along with his grip. He falls the rest of the way down.

His back hits the earth first. Then his shoulder—god,hisshoulder. He blinks up at the cloudy sky, raindrops falling on his face. The pain makes him woozy. When he tries to roll onto all fours, his shoulder won’t take any weight. It feels odd. With his other hand, he gropes at it. Something’s...not right.

In his peripheral vision, boots splash through the puddles toward him. He struggles to his knees, fighting back nausea. Fingers pry at his shoulder, making him gasp. “Dislocated,” someone says.

Rajan staggers to his feet, shoving them away with his good arm. The shock is starting to wear off, enough that he’s aware of his frantic heartbeat, more frantic still as his coworkers crowd him. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Relax, Rajan.”

“We can fix it.”

“Don’t touch me.” Rajan clutches his injured arm. The nausea lets up a little. He rounds on Trevor. “Why was that hammer on the roof?”