Page 15 of You Owe Me (21 Rumors #2)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rumor has it, she's about to make a deal with the devil.
Ainsley
The fire station smells like industrial soap and burnt coffee, which is weirdly comforting right now when everything else in my life feels like it’s spinning off its axis.
I need Bostic. I need his steady voice and his practical advice and his ability to make me feel like the world isn’t actively imploding around me.
What I don’t need is Sebastian and Rowan sitting at the poker table with Luke and Davis, cards spread between them like they’re planning to be here all night.
“Hey, Ainsley!” Luke calls out when he sees me hovering in the doorway. “Come to watch your boy’s friends lose their rent money?”
“Something like that,” I mutter, forcing a smile that feels like it might crack my face in half.
Bostic looks up from his cards, and I can see the exact moment he clocks my expression. His eyes narrow slightly, not suspicious, just concerned. He knows me well enough to recognize the difference between my usual chaos and actual distress.
“Everything okay?” He sets his cards face down.
“I just need to talk to you for a second,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Nothing major.”
Sebastian’s head snaps up at that, his gaze sharpening as he studies my face. Damn it. I forgot how good Maverick’s friends are at reading people. I guess it’s an occupational hazard of running in his circles.
“What’s wrong?” Rowan immediately folds his hand. “You look like someone just told you they’re canceling all sea lion research funding.”
“I’m fine,” I lie. “I just?—”
“Bullshit,” Sebastian interrupts, standing up from the table. “You’re as pale as a sheet, and your hands are shaking. What happened?”
I glance down and realize he’s right, my hands are trembling slightly. I shove them into my jacket pockets, trying to look more composed than I feel.
“Look, I really just need to talk to Bostic privately,” I say, my voice coming out tighter than intended. “It’s not a big deal.”
“If it’s not a big deal, then you can say it in front of us,” Rowan counters, crossing his arms. “We’re Maverick’s friends. If something’s wrong?—”
“Nothing’s wrong with Maverick,” I say quickly. Too quickly.
The silence that follows is deafening. Luke and Davis exchange glances, suddenly very interested in their beer bottles. Sebastian and Rowan stare at me like I just confirmed their worst suspicions.
“Uh-huh,” Sebastian says slowly. “And that’s supposed to make us feel better?”
Bostic pushes back from the table, his chair scraping against the concrete floor. “Guys, maybe give us a minute?—”
“No,” Rowan says firmly. “If something’s happening with Maverick, we need to know. We’re not just gonna sit here playing cards while his girlfriend has a panic attack in the doorway.”
“I’m not having a panic attack,” I protest weakly.
“You’re doing that thing where you talk too fast and your voice goes up an octave,” Sebastian points out. “It’s the same voice you used when you thought you’d accidentally killed Maverick’s laptop with that experimental smoothie.”
“That was one time, and it was kale overload, not attempted murder,” I snap, then immediately deflate. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m a little stressed.”
Bostic stands, walking over to me with that calm, measured stride that somehow makes everything feel more manageable. “What’s going on, kiddo?”
The concern in his voice almost breaks me.
I look around at all these faces, Sebastian and Rowan, who’ve had Maverick’s back since freshman year; Luke and Davis, who’ve become weirdly protective of me ever since they decided I was good for their grumpy poker buddy; and Bostic, who’s been more of a father figure to me than I ever expected.
They all care. They all want to help. And I’m about to ask them to keep a secret from one of their own.
“If I tell you,” I say slowly, “you have to promise not to go running to Maverick. Not yet. Not until we figure out how to handle this.”
“Handle what?” Rowan demands.
I take a deep breath, then pull out one of the chairs at the poker table and collapse into it. “Carter Mills is blackmailing me.”
The temperature in the room drops about twenty degrees.
“What?” Sebastian’s voice is dangerously quiet.
“He has evidence,” I continue, the words tumbling out now that I’ve started, “about Maverick’s IOU system. About the exam stand-ins from last year, when Pops had his stroke. He’s threatening to take it to the dean unless I—” I swallow hard. “Unless I go to the Dean’s Gala with him. This Saturday.”
The silence that follows is so complete I can hear the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.
Then Luke speaks up. “Did you say Carter Mills? As in, the dean’s son?”
I nod miserably.
“Holy shit,” Davis breathes. “That’s—that’s really bad.”
“You think?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “And it gets worse. Maverick punched him last night. At Spuds and Studs. In front of half the restaurant.”
“He what?” Bostic’s voice cuts through the air like a whip.
“Carter showed up while we were eating dinner. He sat down uninvited, touched my hand, and made these comments about the gala. Maverick warned him to back off, and when Carter didn’t listen—” I gesture helplessly. “Well, you know Maverick. He doesn’t give second warnings.”
Sebastian runs a hand through his hair, processing. “Okay, so Carter’s got leverage, and now Maverick just gave him even more ammunition. Assault charges, witnesses?—”
“Carter could have him expelled and arrested,” Rowan finishes grimly.
“Exactly.” I feel tears threatening and blink them back furiously. “I have to go to this gala. I have to keep Carter happy until we can figure out how to neutralize him. Because if I don’t?—”
“Maverick’s future is over,” Bostic adds quietly.
“And his heart condition can’t handle that kind of stress,” I add, my voice breaking slightly. “You should have seen him. His hands were shaking after the punch. His watch was going crazy. If this escalates?—”
I don’t finish the sentence. I don’t need to. We all know what prolonged stress could do to someone with Supraventricular Tachycardia, like Maverick has.
Rowan leans forward, elbows on the table. “Have you told him about the blackmail?”
“No.” I look down at my hands. “And I can’t. Not yet. He’ll lose it completely. He’ll do something that makes this ten times worse.”
“So what’s the plan?” Sebastian asks. “You just... go to this gala? Pretend to be interested in Carter while he holds this over your head?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping Bostic might have some ideas.”
All eyes turn to the big firefighter, who’s been silent since my revelation. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, wearing the expression he gets when he’s working through a particularly complex rescue scenario.
“We need intel. Carter’s got dirt on Maverick, which means someone fed it to him. We need to find out who and what else they might have shared. We also need to find something on Carter. Rich boys like him don’t stay clean by accident.”
“I could ask around,” Luke offers. “I know some guys in the business school. Maybe they’ve heard something.”
“And I’ve got contacts in student government,” Davis adds. “Carter’s the VP. Someone’s gotta have stories.”
Sebastian nods slowly. “This could work. We gather information while Ainsley keeps Carter distracted. But it has to be fast. The longer this drags out, the more dangerous it gets for everyone.”
“What about Maverick?” Rowan asks. “We can’t keep him in the dark forever. He’s going to notice something’s up.”
The guilt hits me immediately. Lying to Maverick goes against every instinct I have. He trusts me completely, and I’m about to betray that trust to protect him.
“I hate this,” I whisper.
“We all do,” Sebastian says firmly. “But it’s the right call. Maverick would rather charge in and deal with the consequences later. That’s not gonna work this time.”
Bostic pushes off from the wall. “All right. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Ainsley goes to the gala, keeps Carter happy, and tries to learn whatever she can about his operation. The rest of us start digging carefully. We need dirt on Carter Mills, and we need it fast.”
“What if he tries something at the gala?” Luke asks. “What if keeping him happy means?—”
“It won’t,” I cut him off, more firmly than I feel. “I can handle Carter. He thinks he’s charming, but he’s really just predictable. Entitled rich boy who’s never been told no.”
“Can you? Really?” Rowan challenges. “Because this guy’s got resources. Connections. If he decides you’re not playing along?—”
“Then we’ll deal with that when it happens,” Bostic interrupts. “For now, this is our best option.”
He looks around the table, meeting each person’s eyes. “Everyone clear on this? We keep Maverick out of the loop until we have a real solution. No matter how guilty it makes us feel.”
There’s a chorus of reluctant agreement around the table.
“And Ainsley,” Bostic adds, turning to me. “You’re not going to that gala alone. We’ll have backup nearby. If anything goes wrong?—”
“I’ll handle it,” I promise, standing up from the table. “I got us into this mess by not telling Maverick about Carter from the beginning. I’ll get us out of it.”
“This isn’t your fault,” Sebastian says firmly. “Carter’s the one playing games. We’re just playing them better.”
I manage a weak smile. “From your mouth to God’s ears.”
As I head toward the door, I can hear them already starting to plan who to contact, what to look for, and how to cover their tracks. It should make me feel better, knowing I’m not alone in this.
Instead, all I can think about is the look on Maverick’s face when he finds out I’ve been lying to him. When he realizes I’ve been making decisions about his life without him.
He’s going to hate me for this.
But if it keeps him safe, if it keeps him from losing everything he’s worked for, I’ll take that risk.
Even if it breaks my heart to do it.
I just hope we can find something on Carter before it’s too late. Before this elaborate deception blows up in all our faces.
Because if we can’t, I’m not sure any of us will forgive ourselves for what comes next.