Chapter 19 Definitely Not Smart #2
Theo’s brows pinch like he’s hearing alarm bells. Elias’ gaze sharpens. Jax’s grin fades to something tighter.
“What’s wrong?” Elias asks quietly.
“Nothing,” I answer too fast, suspiciously fast.
Jax shakes his head lightly. “Oh come on now, Sunshine.”
I blow out a breath, glance at the door, then back at them. My heart is still racing from the fight, and now this.
“It’s rent week,” I blurt, avoiding the fact that Lydia was on the news this morning and now I keep picturing them dead on the sidewalk or in some ditch.
Although I could have picked something better than that to say.
Elias’ jaw ticks. “For the shop?”
“Yeah.” I drag a hand over my face. The tape scratches my skin. “I’ve got the money for this month. Barely. I’m supposed to take it to Bash.”
Theo frowns. “Supposed to?”
“He doesn’t like deposits.” I roll my eyes at Bash’s theatrics, always making me jump through hoops. “He wants it in cash, in hand. Minimum drama, maximum intimidation.”
Jax’s expression goes from teasing to lethal in a blink. “You told us he threatened to double it.”
“He will double it. That’s the fun part. I pay him, and he gets to remind me how far behind I am anyway. Little math lesson with my terror.”
“And next month?” Theo asks quietly.
I snort, humorless. “That’s the problem. There isn’t a ‘next month’ if he doubles it. Not unless I start sleeping four hours a week and invent a way to clone myself.”
Silence settles, heavy and thick. I stare at the scuffed floor, at my boots, at anything that isn’t their faces.
“So,” Jax says finally, voice deceptively light. “We’re going with you.”
The panic hits fast and hard. “No.”
Theo’s head snaps up. “Raine—”
“I said no. You’re not coming.”
Elias crosses his arms. “Why?”
“Because.” I fling my hands out. “Because showing up with three defensive guys is a great way to paint targets on your backs. Because once he clocks you as important to me, that’s it.”
“That’s it, what?” Jax presses.
A flash of Lydia’s face flickers behind my eyes. The news anchor’s bland tone. Home invasion gone wrong.
I swallow hard, trying to keep the fear hidden. “He won’t go through me every time. If he thinks he’ll get what he wants faster by hurting someone else, he will. He doesn’t care who pays the price as long as the point gets across.”
Theo’s throat works. “Raine… did something happen?”
I could lie and say I went down the YouTube rabbit hole, or even that I have a gut feeling. Instead, I tell them the truth like an idiot.
“I saw a story this morning. There was a woman attacked in her driveway. The news called it random, but I’ve seen her before, at Bash’s house. Her husband owes him money.”
Theo goes pale. Jax’s hands curl into fists so tight I hear his knuckles crack, and then Elias’ jaw clenches.
“He would do that?” Theo asks quietly. “He’d actually—”
“Yes.” I meet his eyes, let him see that I’m not exaggerating. “He doesn’t like not getting what he's owed. He likes to remind the people under his thumb that there's no escape. He likes people scared enough to say yes the second he snaps his fingers.”
“And you’re supposed to go to him alone,” Elias says, voice flat.
I shrug one shoulder. “It’s how it’s always been.”
“Well,” Jax says, “new era.”
“I said—”
“Yeah, you said no,” he cuts in. “We heard you. We’re just ignoring you.”
“Jax—”
Theo steps forward, gentler but just as stubborn. “We’re not letting you walk into his house by yourself next time. That’s not a compromise we’re making. Period.”
“You think I don’t know how bad it is?” I snap. “You think I haven’t been doing this for months? If you come with me, he sees you. He remembers you. You become leverage. I’m not handing him three shiny new weapons he can use to hit me with.”
“So we don’t go to him,” Elias says.
I blink. “What?”
He shifts his weight, thinking. “Make him come to you.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You don’t ask Bash to change his plans.”
“You don’t ask,” Elias corrects. “You give him an option that doesn’t sound like pushback. Text him, tell him you’re working late, that you don’t want to leave cash in the shop overnight. Tell him he can swing by and grab it.”
Theo’s eyes light like he’s already mapping it out. “If he comes to the garage, it’s your territory,” he adds. “We can be there without being too obvious."
“Yeah? And what are you going to be? The late-night fan club?”
“Customers,” Jax says instantly.
I stare at him. “Customers.”
“Yeah.” He grins. “Guy with the busted clutch. Guy with the mystery noise. Guy who ‘heard you’re the best.’ We roll in ahead of him, park like normal, you pretend you’re annoyed we showed up after hours, and if he pops in, we’re just…
there.” He shrugs. “He’s not gonna assume three random guys in a closed shop are your boyfriends. ”
The word trips something in my chest I refuse to look at.
“It’s still risky.” Theo’s brow furrows. “But less risky than you going alone, or us going to his place. If something feels off, we’re there. And he shouldn't try to do anything with an audience.”
“I don’t like it.”
“We don’t like any version of this,” Elias says. “But it’s what we have.”
They all look at me.
Three sets of eyes. Three different flavors of stubborn.
I could argue all night. I could dig in my heels and lock them out and pretend I’m protecting them by doing everything myself while my life burns down. Except… that’s what I promised not to do anymore.
I don’t want to do it alone.
“Fine.” I finally cave with a heavy breath. “But you three better keep your mouths shut and your tempers down. You don’t posture. You don’t threaten. You don’t even flinch unless I say.”
Jax opens his mouth. I point a taped finger at him. “I mean it. One sideways comment and he’ll know something is up.”
He snaps his jaw shut, eyes flashing. “You really think I can’t behave for fifteen minutes?”
“Yes.”
Theo coughs into his fist. Elias doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.
“But you’ll try,” I add.
Jax huffs. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll try.”
“Good. Then let’s go before I change my mind.”
The garage is dark when we pull up, the lot lit by one overworked streetlamp and the glow from the corner liquor store sign down the block. My closed sign hangs in the window, flipped toward the street.
As soon as I kill my engine, the creeping feeling hits.
Customers. Right.
This is stupid.
I unlock the door and flip on the lobby lights. The familiar smell of oil, rubber, and cleaner wraps around me. Usually it calms me. Tonight it just makes my skin feel too tight.
The guys fan out automatically. Theo checks the back door and side exit. Jax wanders the lobby, touching things he doesn’t need to touch. Elias leans against the counter like it's his place too, watching everything.
I pull my phone out and stare at Bash’s contact.
My thumbs hover, then type.
Raine:
Rent’s ready. Still at the shop. Can’t leave it here overnight. You want to swing by or send someone?
I hit send before I can overthink it and set the phone on the counter like it’s a ticking bomb.
Jax pipes in, “He’ll say yes. Easier for him.”
“He likes control,” I correct.
Theo reappears from the back, wiping his hands on a rag he doesn’t need. “We should at least pull one bike inside, make it look less—”
My phone buzzes, shutting us all up in an instant.
I pick it up slowly, like it'll explode with any fast movements. There's one new message.
Bash:
On my way.
“He’s coming himself,” Theo says.
“He's never alone, though. If there's one thing you count on with Bash, it's that he comes to collect, but he's never without a guard. You just don't always see him." I know this man better than I'd care to admit.
I shove the phone in my back pocket and start pacing. Ten minutes. Enough time for my brain to come up with twenty-three new catastrophes and absolutely no solutions.
“We should play it normal,” Theo says, thinking out loud. “Music on. Tools out. One of us with a bike up on the lift—”
“At ten p.m.?” I deadpan. “When the sign says closed?”
The three of them look around like that just hit them.
“I told you this was stupid,” I snap.
“Okay,” Elias says calmly. “We adapt. It’s not ideal, but it’s not unsalvageable. We act like you forgot to lock up, like we were hanging out, like they just dropped by. He’s not omniscient.”
The distant rumble of an engine cuts through him. Low, expensive, familiar, and my blood runs cold. A second later, headlights sweep across the front windows, flooding the lobby with white for a brief, blinding flash.
I freeze.
He wasn’t supposed to be this fast. He must’ve been close already. Maybe watching.
The car door opens outside. Then another.
Elias straightens. Theo’s hand curls around the back of a chair. Jax’s grip tightens on the counter, his jaw ticking.
“Everyone breathe,” Elias reminds us, voice soft. “Remember the rules.”
I swallow, nod, and move to the door. My legs feel detached from my body, but they carry me anyway.
When I open it, the night air hits my face, full of Bash's stupid cologne.
Bash is stepping out of his sleek black car, suit immaculate even this late. Beside him, one of his guys unfolds from the passenger seat—broad shoulders, shaved head, a coat that could be hiding anything.
Bash’s gaze does a quick sweep of the lot.
Noting the bikes, the guys inside, and the lights on.
His mouth curves up slowly. “Well, looks like I’m not the only one working late.”
His eyes slide past me, through the glass, landing on the shapes inside. Recognition flashes there—not of them, not yet, but of a pattern he doesn’t like.
He looks back at me, smile sharpening.
“Raine,” he throws out. “You didn’t tell me you were entertaining.”
My heart pounds so hard I taste it.
I force my face into something neutral. Annoyed, even. “I told you I was still at the shop. You were the one who assumed that meant I was alone.”
His gaze lingers on mine for a heartbeat too long, weighing, measuring.
Behind me, I can feel the boys’ presence too close. Too obvious.
We’re going to have to come up with something fast.
Really fast.