Page 34 of You Owe Me (21 Rumors #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Rumor has it, he came back from the dead.

Maverick

The first thing I notice is the beeping.

Steady. Controlled. Mechanical.

Not the chaotic, stuttering rhythm that’s been haunting my chest for months. This is different—calm, even, like my heart finally remembered how to do its job without staging a revolt every few hours.

The second thing I notice is the pain.

Not sharp, exactly. More like a deep ache that radiates from my chest outward, the kind of soreness that comes from being meticulously poked and burned. My throat feels raw, my mouth tastes like antiseptic, and there’s an IV line in my arm that tugs whenever I try to move.

The third thing I notice is her .

Ainsley is curled up in the chair beside my bed, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around her shins like she’s trying to hold herself together through sheer force of will.

Her hair is a mess—not the sexy, just-rolled-out-of-bed mess, but the I’ve-been-running-my-hands-through-it-in-panic mess.

Her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, mascara smudged beneath her lower lashes.

She looks like she’s been crying for hours.

And she’s staring at me with an expression I can’t quite read—relief and fury and something else, something deeper and more complicated than either emotion alone.

“Hey,” I say, and my voice comes out rougher than expected. Like I’ve been gargling gravel.

She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t rush to my side. Just sits there, studying my face like she’s trying to decide whether to kiss me or kill me.

“You’re awake.” Her voice is carefully controlled. Too controlled.

“Apparently.” I try to shift in the bed, and the movement sends a wave of soreness through my chest. “How long?—”

“Six hours,” she cuts me off. “Six hours since they called me and told me you were in surgery. Six hours since I found out my boyfriend was having his heart operated on while I thought he was driving to see his grandfather.”

There’s acid in her tone now, the kind of controlled fury that’s more dangerous than shouting. This is Ainsley when she’s hurt—not explosive, but surgical. Precise in her anger.

I deserve it.

“Ainsley—”

“Your heart stopped,” she continues, like I haven’t spoken. “On the table. For forty-three seconds, your heart stopped beating, and I was sitting in Carter Mills’s apartment, playing fucking power games, while you were dying.”

The words hit harder than any physical pain.

Not because my heart stopped—Dr. Patel warned me that was a possibility, a brief pause while they mapped the electrical pathways.

But because she was with Carter while it happened.

Because whatever she’s been hiding, whatever secret she’s been carrying, led her to him while I was under anesthesia.

“They got me back,” I say quietly. “Obviously.”

“Forty-three seconds, Maverick.” Her voice cracks just slightly on my name. “Forty-three seconds where you weren’t breathing, weren’t existing, and I didn’t even know. I was sitting there, threatening him with academic fraud charges while you were?—“

She cuts herself off, pressing her lips together like she’s said too much.

“Academic fraud charges?” I try to sit up straighter, and she’s on her feet instantly, hands hovering near my shoulders like she wants to push me back down but doesn’t quite dare touch me.

“Don’t. Don’t move too much. They said you need to rest.” Her hands flutter uncertainly. “The procedure worked. Dr. Patel said your heart rhythm is perfect now, but there’s still healing, and if you?—”

“Ainsley.” I catch her wrist gently, carefully, because my depth perception is still fuzzy around the edges from whatever drugs they’ve pumped into me. “Sit down. Please.”

She does, but she perches on the edge of the chair like she might bolt at any second. Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, and I can see her fighting to keep herself together.

“We need to talk,” I say.

“Ya think?” The sarcasm is sharp enough to cut glass. “Because I’ve been sitting here for six hours, trying to figure out what else you’ve been lying about. What other medical emergencies you’ve been planning without telling me. What other ways you’ve decided to protect me from the truth.”

She’s right to be angry. I lied to her, kept her in the dark about something that could have killed me, chose control over trust in the most fundamental way possible.

But she’s been lying, too.

“Carter Mills,” I say, and watch her flinch. “You want to tell me the rest of what’s been going on? Because I already know about Jin.”

Her expression shifts from defensive to resigned. She knows I’ve known since the tattoos, since I called her out for using my favor without permission.

“I was protecting you.”

“From what?”

“From him.” The words tumble out in a rush now, like a dam breaking.

“From Carter and his threats and his IRS investigation and his plan to destroy your family’s business.

He’s been blackmailing me, Maverick. For weeks.

Threatening to expose your grandfather’s company, to make sure federal auditors found every gray area you’ve ever operated in. ”

The beeping from my heart monitor stays steady, which is probably a miracle considering what she just told me. Carter Mills has been targeting my family. Using them as leverage against Ainsley. Threatening the people I’d burn the world down to protect.

“What did he want?” My voice is deadly calm, the tone that makes smart people stop talking and stupid people keep going.

“Information. About your operation, your network, how the IOU system works. He wanted me to help him understand your business so he could take it over.” Ainsley’s hands are shaking now.

“And when I wouldn’t cooperate, when I got the tattoo with you, he escalated.

Called the IRS, filed anonymous tips about tax irregularities.

He’s building a case, Maverick. Multiple reports, multiple angles of attack. ”

The beeping speeds up slightly. Not dangerous, but noticeable.

“So you went to Jin,” I continue, keeping my voice level. “Had him dig up dirt on Carter instead of coming to me.”

“Because you would have done something stupid!” The words explode out of her.

“You would have confronted him directly, made threats, escalated everything until it spiraled completely out of control. And your heart—” Her voice breaks.

“Your heart has been getting worse for weeks. I could see it, the way you’d clutch your chest when you thought I wasn’t looking, the way your watch kept buzzing.

I was terrified that the stress would trigger something serious. ”

She was right. About all of it. If she’d told me about Carter’s threats, I would have handled it the way I handle everything—with calculated violence and absolute control. I would have made him disappear from our lives permanently, consequences be damned.

And it might have killed me.

“What did Jin find?”

“Everything.” Ainsley wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “Academic fraud, cheating rings, Daddy covering up his failures for three years. Plus, the digital trail of his IRS complaints—all submitted from his personal laptop on university Wi-Fi. He’s not as smart as he thinks he is.”

Despite everything—the surgery, the lies, the mess we’ve both made—I feel a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “You destroyed him.”

“I tried to. I went to his apartment today with evidence, told him to call off the IRS investigation or face academic fraud charges.” She meets my eyes, and there’s something fierce there beneath the exhaustion.

“I was handling it, Maverick. I was protecting you the same way you’re always protecting everyone else. ”

“And then the hospital called.”

“And then the hospital called, and I found out you’d been lying to me about major heart surgery while I was playing spy games with your enemy.

” Fresh tears spill over. “You could have died, and I would have spent the rest of my life knowing I wasn’t there because you decided I couldn’t handle the truth. ”

The pain in her voice cuts deeper than any surgical incision. Because she’s right—I made that choice for her. Decided she was too fragile, too prone to worry, too likely to make my situation worse with her concern.

I decided she couldn’t handle loving me through something difficult.

“Come here,” I say quietly.

She shakes her head. “You’re supposed to rest?—”

“Ainsley. Come here.”

This time, there’s enough command in my voice that she obeys, standing up and moving to the side of the bed. I shift over carefully, making room, then pat the mattress beside me.

“I can’t. The nurses said?—”

“I don’t care what the nurses said.” I meet her eyes and let her see the truth there. “I almost died today without telling you I love you. I’m not spending another minute farther away from you than necessary.”

She hesitates for another second, then kicks off her shoes and climbs onto the narrow hospital bed. She’s careful not to jostle any of the wires or tubes, settling against my side with her head on my shoulder and her hand flat against my chest, right over the new tattoo.

Right over my heart, which is finally beating the way it should.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” I say into her hair. “Because I knew you’d try to carry it for me. The way you carried Carter’s threats instead of letting me handle them.”

“I was scared,” she whispers against my neck. “Not just of the surgery, but of what would happen after. If something went wrong, if you didn’t wake up, if I lost you because I wasn’t strong enough to be what you needed.”

“You are what I need.” I tighten my arm around her, careful of the IV line. “Not some perfect version of yourself that doesn’t worry or cry or make mistakes. You. Exactly as you are.”

“Even when I hack into university systems using your name?”