Page 24 of You Owe Me (21 Rumors #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Rumor has it, she's collecting on debts that aren't hers.

Ainsley

Finding Jin turns out to be easier than I expected, which probably should be my first red flag that this whole plan is about to go sideways faster than a sea lion on roller skates.

He’s exactly where Sebastian said he’d be—hunched over a laptop in the far corner of the computer lab, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and the kind of focused intensity that screams I haven’t seen sunlight in 72 hours.

His hair looks like he stuck his finger into an electrical socket, and he’s wearing a hoodie that’s probably older than me.

Perfect. A sleep-deprived computer genius with questionable hygiene and a God complex. This should go smoothly.

I approach his workstation like I’m approaching a wild animal that might bolt—or bite.

The screens around him are filled with code that looks like hieroglyphics had a baby with a math textbook, and I’m pretty sure at least three of them are displaying things that would make the FBI very interested in Jin’s browsing history.

“Jin?” I say softly, not wanting to startle him into accidentally launching a nuclear missile or something.

He doesn’t look up. Just keeps typing with the kind of manic energy that suggests he’s either caffeinated to the point of toxicity or having a religious experience with JavaScript.

“Computer lab’s closed,” he mutters, fingers flying across the keyboard. “Come back tomorrow. Or never. Never works, too.”

“I’m not here for the computers,” I say, stepping closer. “I’m here for you.”

That gets his attention. His hands freeze over the keyboard, and he slowly turns to look at me with the expression of someone who’s just realized they might be in trouble but isn’t sure what kind yet.

“Do I know you?” He squints at me like I’m a particularly challenging line of code.

“Ainsley James.” I extend my hand. “Maverick’s girlfriend.”

The effect is immediate. Jin’s eyes widen, his posture straightens, and he suddenly looks like he wants to crawl under his desk and hide until the semester’s over.

“Oh.” His voice cracks slightly. “Oh, shit. I mean—sorry. I mean—” He runs a hand through his already chaotic hair. “What can I do for you, Ms. James?”

Ms. James? Seriously? “Just Ainsley is fine. And I’m here about your IOU.”

The color drains from his face so fast I’m worried he might pass out and take half the computer lab’s equipment with him. “My what now?”

“Your IOU,” I repeat, pulling one of Maverick’s blank cards from my pocket and setting it on his desk. “The one you owe Maverick. I’m here to collect.”

Jin stares at the card like it’s a live grenade. “I... I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure owing someone a favor means you pay up when they ask for it. Or when their representative asks for it.”

“Representative?” Jin’s voice goes up an octave. “Are you like his… business manager or something?”

I almost laugh at that. “Something like that.”

He shakes his head rapidly. “No, no, no. I only deal with Maverick directly. That’s the rule. That’s always been the rule.”

“Well, today the rule’s changing,” I say, trying to channel some of Maverick’s quiet menace. “I need a favor, and you owe one. Math is simple.”

“The math is not simple!” Jin practically shrieks, drawing stares from the few other students scattered around the lab. He lowers his voice to a harsh whisper. “Do you have any idea what happens to people who mess with Maverick’s system? Do you know what he’s capable of?”

“I know exactly what he’s capable of,” I say, which is both true and terrifying. “And I know he doesn’t like it when people refuse to honor their debts.”

Jin swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing like he’s trying to digest a golf ball. “What... what do you need?”

“Information,” I say simply. “About Carter Mills. Academic records, disciplinary actions, anything the university has on file.”

“That’s...” Jin’s eyes dart around the lab like he’s checking for surveillance. “That’s not a small favor. That’s like, federal crime territory.”

“Then you should have thought about that before you owed Maverick a federal crime-sized favor,” I point out. “What did you do anyway? Hack the grading system? Steal exam answers? Install Bitcoin mining software on the library computers?”

“Look.” He leans closer and lowers his voice even further. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but this isn’t how things work. Maverick has rules. Systems. Protocols. You can’t just walk in here and start cashing in IOUs like you’re at a fucking arcade.”

“Watch me,” I say, crossing my arms. “Unless you want me to explain to Maverick that Jin was being uncooperative when I tried to collect on his behalf.”

Jin goes so pale I’m genuinely concerned he might need medical attention. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

He stares at me for a long moment, fingers twitching like he wants to start typing but doesn’t know what to type. Finally, he lets out a defeated sigh that sounds like it’s coming from somewhere deep in his soul.

“You have no idea what you’re doing. No idea who you’re messing with.”

“I’m messing with my boyfriend’s business to protect him from an entitled psychopath with daddy issues,” I reply. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Jin shakes his head slowly. “No, you don’t. You think you know Maverick? The version of him that brings you coffee and probably holds your hand and shit? That’s not the Maverick I know.”

There’s something in his voice—fear, maybe, or respect, or both—that makes my stomach clench. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means the Maverick I’ve dealt with doesn’t ask nicely. He doesn’t negotiate. He doesn’t give second chances.” Jin’s eyes are deadly serious now. “You’re playing a dangerous game if he finds out you’re running around collecting his debts without permission.”

“Then I guess you better make sure he doesn’t find out,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel.

Jin stares at me for another long moment, then suddenly starts laughing. Not happy laughter—the kind of hysterical, borderline manic laughter that suggests someone’s sanity is hanging by a very thin thread.

“Oh, my goodness,” he gasps between fits of laughter. “You’re serious. You’re actually serious. You have no fucking clue what you’ve walked into, do you?”

“Enlighten me,” I say, though I’m starting to think I might not want to know.

Jin wipes tears from his eyes, still chuckling like he’s just heard the funniest joke in the world.

“Maverick doesn’t collect favors, Ainsley.

He collects people. And once you’re in his system—once you owe him something—you don’t just pay it back and walk away.

You become part of the network. Forever. ”

My mouth goes dry. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that every person who owes Maverick a favor becomes a resource. A tool. You think this is the first time I’ve hacked student records for him? You think the other people in his network just do one little favor and get released back into the wild?”

The pieces are starting to click together in a way that makes me feel sick. “How long have you owed him?”

“Two years, and I’ve done maybe twenty jobs in that time. Everything from grade changes to security system bypasses to… other things. Things I’m not proud of.”

“But you keep doing them.”

“Because the alternative is worse.” Jin’s voice drops to barely above a whisper. “You don’t say no to Maverick Lexington. Not twice.”

I feel like the floor just tilted beneath my feet. This isn’t the Maverick I know. The Maverick I love. The man who makes me heart-healthy smoothies and lets me steal his hoodies and looks at me like I’m the only thing in his world that makes sense.

But maybe that’s the point. Maybe I don’t know him as well as I thought.

The thought hits me like ice water. How many times has Maverick disappeared for hours without explanation?

How many phone calls has he taken in another room, voice dropping to that low, controlled register that makes my spine tingle—not with desire, but with something I’m only now recognizing as unease?

How many times have I seen that look in his eyes—the one that’s not quite cold, but not quite warm either.

Calculating. Strategic. Like he’s three moves ahead in a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

Shit. What if Jin is right? What if the Maverick who kisses my forehead when I fall asleep with textbooks on my chest is just one facet of someone much more complex—and dangerous—than I ever imagined?

No. That’s ridiculous. I live with him. I see him at his most vulnerable—when his heart monitor goes off and he thinks I’m not looking, when he takes those beta blockers like communion wafers, when he wakes up in the middle of the night with his hand pressed to his chest like he’s making sure it’s still beating.

That’s not the behavior of some criminal mastermind. That’s just… Maverick. My Maverick.

Isn’t it?

But then I remember the poker games. The way grown men defer to him like he’s royalty.

The careful way people speak his name, like saying it too loudly might summon something they’re not prepared to handle.

The IOUs I’ve seen scattered around our apartment—hundreds of them, maybe thousands, each one representing someone who owes him something.

Someone who’s become part of his “network,” as Jin so ominously put it.

Damn. How did I not see this before? How did I convince myself that all those favors were just harmless college hijinks? Academic trades, tutoring exchanges, maybe the occasional test answer or grade bump. Innocent stuff. College stuff.

Not this. Not some sprawling empire of debt and obligation that apparently never ends.

I think about Carter’s words at the gala, about Maverick’s “operations” and his “self-sustaining economy.” I’d dismissed it as jealousy, as Carter trying to make Maverick sound more sinister than he actually was.

But what if Carter wasn’t exaggerating? What if he was just stating facts I was too blind—or too in love—to see?

The worst part is, I’m starting to understand why people stay trapped in Maverick’s system.

It’s not just fear, though Jin’s obvious terror suggests that’s definitely part of it.

It’s the way Maverick makes you feel special.

Chosen. Like you’re part of something bigger than yourself.

Like your problems matter to him, and he’ll move heaven and earth to solve them.

Until suddenly, you’re the one solving problems for him. And then for his friends. And then for people you’ve never met, doing things you never thought you’d do, all because you owe him. All because saying no isn’t really an option anymore.

And the truly terrifying part? I don’t think Maverick even sees it as manipulation.

I think he genuinely believes he’s helping people.

Creating opportunities. Building a community.

He probably tells himself that everyone benefits, that it’s just smart resource management, that he’s providing a service.

But intent doesn’t matter if the result is the same.

I watch Jin’s fingers fly across the keyboard—calm, practiced, surgical.

Twenty jobs in two years. Damn.

The numbers blur for a second. My hands tremble, and I shove them into my jacket pockets before Jin can notice. I can’t let him see how deep this cuts. How much it’s unraveling me.

Because if Jin’s right—if everything I believed about Maverick has cracks I never saw…

I swallow hard. Now isn’t the time to spiral. Not when Carter Mills is circling like a vulture.

“I need you to do this,” I say, forcing my voice steady. “Carter Mills is threatening Maverick. If I don’t find something to stop him?—”

“Then maybe that’s Maverick’s problem to solve,” Jin interrupts. “Not yours.”

“It becomes mine when it threatens the person I love.”

Jin studies my face for a long moment, and whatever he sees there seems to convince him that arguing is pointless. He lets out another heavy sigh and cracks his knuckles like he’s preparing for surgery.

“Fine, but when this all goes to hell—and it will go to hell—remember that I warned you.”

He turns back to his computer and starts typing with renewed intensity. “Give me an hour. And Ainsley?”

“Yeah?”

“After this, we’re even. Whatever favor I owed Maverick, this covers it. I don’t care what he says.”

I nod, even though something tells me it’s not going to be that simple. In Maverick’s world, nothing ever is.

As Jin disappears into his digital fortress, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just opened a door I might not be able to close. That in trying to protect Maverick from Carter, I’ve stumbled into something much bigger and more dangerous than I realized.

But it’s too late to back out now.

The favor’s been called in.

And all I can do is wait to see what secrets Jin uncovers—and hope they’re worth the price I’m starting to realize I might have to pay.