Chapter 20 Definitely Not Backing Down #2
“Can we move this along?” she asks, feigning annoyance. “You’ve got your money. I’ve got work in the morning.”
Bash looks down at the envelope in his jacket like he’d forgotten it already.
“Right. Rent.” He taps his chest. “You are very punctual this month.” His eyes crinkle. “I’m touched.”
“You gave me two weeks,” she mutters. “I’m not interested in what happens if I’m late.”
His smile goes shark-like. “You really should be.”
He lets that hang there for a second, then he sighs, fake-regret, and looks around the shop again.
“You know, Raine, I’ve been thinking about our little arrangement.”
My stomach drops, knowing this means we fucked up. Big time.
Here it comes.
“You’ve been cutting it close,” he goes on. “This, tonight?” He gestures to us. “This tells me why. You’re distracted. You’re investing a lot of time and energy into… extracurriculars.”
“Working past close to pay you is the opposite of distracted,” she bites out.
“Mm.” He considers us again. “Still. New variables. New risks.” His gaze lands on Elias’ EMT pants. “New people who might get curious. Talkative.”
“I don’t talk,” Elias responds, calm but hard now. “Not to cops. Not to anyone. I like my license.”
“And my bar doesn’t exactly invite law enforcement,” Jax adds. “They only show up when someone gets stabbed, and even then, they’re late.”
Bash chuckles. “I’m aware of your bar.”
That’s not comforting.
He looks back at Raine. “The point is, things have changed. You’ve brought more… pieces onto the board.”
He tips his head, considering. “It seems only fair that the terms adjust.”
“Adjust how?” Raine asks, even though I can see she already knows she’s not going to like it.
Bash’s smile is almost gentle. “Three men. Triple rent.”
The words land like a fist in my gut.
Raine stares at him. “That’s not—You said—”
“I say a lot of things,” he cuts in, same line he used on her last time. “And you’ve had time. Choices. Support.” His mouth curls again. “You’re not alone anymore. Seems selfish of you to bear the load all by yourself.”
“You know damn well I can’t make triple.” Her voice doesn’t go up, doesn’t crack, but it’s thinner now. “I barely made it this month as it is.”
Bash’s answer is simple. “Then you’ll get creative. Or you’ll use what’s in front of you.”
His gaze flicks to us again, and ice spills down my spine, knowing we just made everything worse for her.
“We’ve talked about this,” Raine lowers her voice to an almost deadly pitch. “I’m not cleaning your money. I’m not cooking your books.”
“And I said I understood your… hesitation,” Bash replies. “Risk-averse. Law-abiding. Very noble.” His eyes harden. “I also said my generosity wouldn’t last forever.”
He takes one step closer to her, close enough that I can see her reflection in his dark eyes. My fingers twitch with the urge to grab his shoulder and yank him back, but I keep calm, knowing I don't want to make this any worse.
“I like you, Raine.” His voice is soft. “Did you know that? Out of everyone who owes me, out of everyone I’ve had to… correct, you’re my favorite.”
“Lucky me,” she mutters.
“You entertain me. You fight and try, all hopeful.” He glances at us. “You make interesting choices.” His voice flattens on the next words. “And you gave me leverage you didn’t need to give.”
Something ugly twists in my chest. I feel it mirrored in Jax’s posture, in the way Elias’ jaw tightens.
Raine finally looks worried, angry. “Leave them out of this. They didn’t ask to be involved.”
“Neither did you. Yet here we are.”
He taps his fingers once on the counter, a little drumbeat of finality.
“Next month. Three times the current rent. In full. On time. I'll come get it, just like tonight. If you don’t…” He smiles without teeth. “We’ll revisit other options.”
“What other options?” Jax demands, unable to hold it in anymore.
Bash looks over at him, amused. “Well, let’s see.” He holds up a hand, counting off with casual fingers. “Option one: our charming mechanic finally admits the obvious and helps me move my money. Easy, clean, and profitable.”
“Not happening,” Raine snaps.
“Option two,” Bash continues calmly, talking over her. “She fails to pay, and I start taking payment in… parts, tools, equipment, fingers. The usual.”
My stomach turns.
“Option three,” he finishes, dropping his hand. “I motivate her.”
He looks back at Raine, and his meaning is clear without him having to say a single word.
“You so much as touch her—” Jax starts, voice entirely gone now.
“Jax.” Elias’ voice snaps like a rubber band. He steps half in front of him. “Don’t.”
Bash smiles. “See? Motivated already.”
His gaze slides to me. “You’re quiet, Theo. Maybe you’re the smart one.”
I swallow, tasting something copper-like in my mouth. “You’re making a mistake. You really don’t want to make her your enemy.”
“I already did, the second her father signed that contract.” Bash grins but it doesn’t reach his eyes, more for intimidation than any kind of happy feeling.
“I have no illusions about my role in her life.” His eyes slant back to Raine.
“But she has a brain. She knows a good offer when she sees one.”
“I’d rather burn this place to the ground,” Raine says, voice barely above a whisper, “than turn it into your laundromat.”
He considers that. “See, that’s the kind of dramatic thinking I find… concerning.” He steps back finally, adjusting his cuffs like this was just a minor errand that went slightly longer than expected. “But I’m a reasonable man. You’ve got a month. Prove me wrong.”
He taps his jacket where the envelope sits. “I’ll enjoy this while you figure out how much the rest of your pride is worth.”
He turns, already done with us, having the henchman open the door without a word. But before he leaves, he pauses in the doorway and looks over his shoulder one last time.
“Oh,” he adds lightly, as if he almost forgot, “and do yourself a favor, Raine.” She doesn’t answer. “Tell your boys that if they’re going to play guard dogs, they should at least learn what happens to pets when their owner stops paying the vet.”
Then he’s out into the night, walking back to his sleek black car like he didn’t just screw us in five casual minutes. The henchman follows and the door swings shut behind them, a soft click that sounds way too final.
For a long moment, nobody moves.
I watch Bash’s headlights cut across the lot, then back out into the street. I track the car until the red taillights disappear around the corner and the night swallows them. Only then do I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I let it out in a long exhale while my heart does double-time.
“Fuck,” Jax says finally, the word low and vicious. He slams his palm down on the counter hard enough that the stack of invoices jumps.
Elias drags a hand over his face. “That went well.”
“Don’t,” Raine whispers.
Her voice kills whatever joke he was about to make.
She’s still standing where Bash left her. Same spot, same posture, but emptied somehow. Her shoulders haven’t dropped. Her fists are still clenched at her sides, eyes locked on the door like she’s expecting him to come back in.
“Raine,” I call softly, gaining her attention as her gaze snaps to me. It’s too sharp.
“Save it.”
“Breathe,” Elias says quietly. “You kept it together.”
She exhales. “We got you three put on his radar. That’s what I did.”
“We were already on his radar,” Jax mutters. “He knows my bar, Raine.”
“You made it worse,” she fires back, turning on him. “You couldn’t keep your mouth shut for five goddamn minutes—”
“Yeah, because you look real calm right now,” he snaps.
“Both of you, stop,” Elias says, but, of course, neither of them listen.
“He was going to notice something,” I cut in, forcing my voice not to shake. “Even if we were perfect tonight, he would have caught on eventually.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Raine bites back. “He didn’t know who you were to me. Now he knows your names, where you work, and that you care.” Her breath comes faster. “He knows I care.”
“Yeah,” Jax agrees. “That part was kind of the point.”
“The point,” she continues, “was to keep you out of this.”
Her voice cracks on the last word, just enough to remind us why we're here. To remind us that she's not mad at us. She's scared.
Elias steps forward first, slowly, with his hands open. “Raine…”
“Don’t,” she repeats, but it’s thinner now. “I told you not to get involved. I told you—”
“You said you didn't want to do it alone anymore,” I remind her quietly. “You asked us to help.”
“I didn’t ask you to do this,” she snaps. “I didn’t ask you to stand here and put targets on your backs. You could’ve just let me do this by myself.”
“And leave you alone with him?” Elias asks. “Not happening.”
“I’ve been alone with him for long enough. I know how to handle him.”
“Do you?” Jax throws back. “Because his rent just tripled and he’s talking about fingers like he’s picking presents for himself.”
She flinches at that, and Jax doesn't miss it. He immediately looks like he wants to hit himself in the face.
“Raine, I didn’t mean—”
“You did. And you should’ve just let me deal with it.”
“Too late,” Elias says. “We’re in it now. All of us.”
“That’s the problem,” she whispers.
I move closer, carefully, like she’s a skittish animal even though I know she’d deck me for thinking of her that way. I stop when I’m a foot away and don’t reach for her yet.
“Look at me,” I say, and when she doesn't, I repeat it, softer. "Raine. Please.”
It takes a moment, but she drags her gaze from the door to my face, looking furious and terrified and exhausted all at once.
“It’s not on you. Him seeing us. Him using us. That’s on him.”
“I’m the variable. I brought you into this.”
“You didn’t invite Bash to be a psychopath,” Jax inserts. “That’s not on you.”