Chapter 41
RAJAN’S BEEN TALKING to his mother a lot lately.
This should probably alarm him, given that she’s dead, but instead, it’s the only comfort he’s had these last few days.
Some time ago—a day, maybe two? It’s hard to keep track—they left him alone and shut the door.
His mouth is dry. Head pounding. His ribs hurt with every breath.
His nostrils are pretty much dead from the scent of gasoline.
“You should eat something,” his mother says from the corner.
“They didn’t exactly leave me a buffet, Mom. Also, I’m tied to a chair.”
She goes on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I stopped eating, too, near the end. Especially when I got more worried about you. If I’d eaten more, I would’ve lived longer.”
He shakes his head. “You were always going to die.”
“And so are you,” his mother says. “As we’ve talked about.”
He sighs. That’s all they talk about.
She hasn’t been here the whole time. But at some point, Hat Stealer got tired of kicking the shit out of him, the waterboarding, and the other stuff they tried. They tied him back into his chair. Hat Stealer turned to one of the shorter Aces and handed him a yellow gasoline can.
The Ace looked at it. “What do you want me to do?”
That broke Rajan out of his haze. The boy’s voice sounded...young. Cracking with puberty.
“Fucking drink it. Obviously—” Hat Stealer gestured to Rajan. “He’s not gonna crack.”
“But...Zach said—”
“I don’t care what Zach said,” Hat Stealer snapped. “Do it.”
“Do it yourself,” the kid said. “I thought we were going for a drive tonight, not setting people on fire. This is fucked up.” He dropped the can and started walking toward the door.
Stupid kid, Rajan thought, even before the others turned on him. He should’ve just done it. Now he was going to be punished for having a conscience.
While the boy’s cries of pain sounded in the background, Hat Stealer poured the gasoline over Rajan’s head. The smell filled his nose and made him even more lightheaded.
It was at this point, with rivulets of gasoline dripping into his vision, that his mother appeared behind Hat Stealer. Her hair was thick and shiny, cheeks rosy. She wasn’t coughing, she wasn’t hooked up to a dialysis machine. She was smiling. He could not take his eyes off her.
“Most of us don’t get to choose when we die, sweetheart,” she said to him. “Or how. But I would’ve wanted to die with dignity if I could. Wouldn’t you?”
He nodded.
“Then keep looking at me,” his mother whispered. “Only me. Don’t be afraid, sweetheart. I’ll be here until it’s over.”
The empty gasoline can clattered to the ground at Rajan’s feet. The smell was sweet and cloying. The boy who’d refused the task was motionless on the floor, and the others bored with him.
“No, look at me,” his mother reminded him, and he did. “Don’t worry about him. He’s Sukha’s age, but he’s not Sukha. Everything’ll be okay. You left me to die alone, but I promise I won’t do that to you.”
He believed her. A lighter’s flame illuminated the dark.
And then the door opened.
“What did I tell you?” Zach sounded furious.
Hat Stealer turned. There were the sounds of muffled arguments. Rajan’s mother smiled and came closer when the arguing became shouting. She stroked his hair, but even with the distraction, Rajan still caught snippets of conversation—he’s mine—we need him—our only lead—don’t touch him—
Some part of him puzzled over why Zach didn’t want them to hurt him. He’d thought by now he’d be missing a few fingers. At least some teeth. But, they all left. The door closed. And he’s been here with his mom ever since.
She strokes his forehead and tuts. “Rajan, you look sick. You should take better care of yourself.” She keeps finding new things to scold him about. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you now.”
“I don’t remember the last time you took care of me.”
“I didn’t realize you wanted that.” She sounds sad. “You were always pushing me away. I thought you didn’t want me around.”
“Of course I did. Of course I did,” he repeats. “I wanted you around and I wanted you to be proud of me and I wanted you to defend me when people criticized me in front of you.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so? You can’t have expected me to know. I was sick, and in pain. You’re not blaming me for that, are you?”
“No. Of course not.” He squeezes his eyes shut.
“Rajan, I’m so disappointed.”
“About what?” he whispers. It’s hard to keep up with her. She switches the topic like this every five seconds.
“You didn’t keep your promise,” she says.
“What promise?”
“You don’t even remember.” His mother sighs. “I asked you not to poison her.”
Her.
Rajan opens his eyes. “Mom, I was trying,” he pleads, voice cracking, but her hand falls away. His voice gets louder, more desperate, as she steps back. “I swear I was trying. That’s why I was about to leave. Mom, please believe me. Come back. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says over his apologies, in that sad voice she used when he came home holding a bad report card, or dragged in by cops. “I know you can’t help it. It’s just who you are.”
But, she doesn’t come back to stroke his hair.
He’s on the cusp of begging her to when the door scrapes open. Bright sunlight hits the metal floor. He recoils, turning his head back to the darkness.
Zach claps his hands as he approaches. “How’s it going, buddy? You don’t look so hot.” Rajan works up some saliva, spits it at his feet. Zach grins. “God, you reek.”
“Whose fault is that?”
Zach ignores this. “I brought a friend. You might know him.” He steps aside, and Rajan squints to look at the newcomer. Snake Tattoo.
“Oh, yeah, it’s him.” Snake Tattoo grins. “Little prick.”
“You’re breaching probation right now,” Rajan responds. “Gonna tell on you, dude.”
In response, Snake Tattoo grabs the back of the chair and tilts it onto the rear legs. Rajan cringes slightly, knowing what’s coming—Snake Tattoo lets the chair fall backward to the metal floor. The back of Rajan’s head hits, too. Pain shoots through his skull. Zach’s face appears over him.
“Half dead and still so mouthy. Why can’t you just cooperate, huh?”
Rajan blinks slowly at the ceiling. He has no clue what Zach’s talking about. Come to think of it, there was some secret he was keeping from them, but before that...who knows. Has he not always been here? Where did he come from? Is there a world outside this dark place?
“No, sweetheart. It’s just you and me,” his mother says from the corner. He looks at her. “Focus on me, remember?”
“Yo, he’s fucked up.” Zach laughs. He rights Rajan’s chair, then turns to the others.
“Jon, get him some food. A change of clothes, too. He needs to look alive.” Zach turns back to him.
“We’re split on whether or not you actually know the bookkeeper.
But here’s what we’ve agreed on over the past couple days: Even if you don’t know the bookkeeper, you can give us the next best thing. You can give us the books.”
Rajan struggles to wrap his mind around this. Retaliation, that’s what they want. But how?
Zach answers his unspoken question. “You’re going to run a little errand for us. You’ll walk into Lion territory and pick up our ledgers, along with yours. You’ll do it, because otherwise...”
Rajan forces himself to breathe. The Lions are protecting his family, protecting Simran. They can’t touch them, they’re safe—
“Your PO seems like a punctual lady,” Zach comments. “Comes into work at seven o’clock every morning.”
Kat.
Behind Snake Tattoo, Rajan’s mother vanishes.
Snake Tattoo adds, “That bitch is in the parking garage before anyone else. Cameras, easy to loop. Understand?” He gets in close. “I’ll do more than make her cry.”
Rajan knew he shouldn’t have said anything to Snake Tattoo. He shouldn’t have given the slightest hint that he cared. It’s the same thing that happened with Simran—he was so busy protecting one weak spot he forgot about a different one.
“We’ll be following you closely,” Zach says. Snake Tattoo walks behind him. A moment later, the ties around his wrists snap off. “You have one hour.”
They drag him into a vehicle. When his blindfold is yanked off, he’s in a dingy, windowless locker room.
A towel, water bottle, sandwich, and pile of clothes await him on the bench.
He’s held at gunpoint while he does literally everything.
Despite how degrading that is, he feels somewhat lucid once he’s eaten, washed, and gotten dressed in clean jeans, hoodie, and jacket.
They blindfold him again and drive him off.
During that time, Zach explains the plan.
When his blindfold is lifted, they’re on the corner of a familiar street, winding up a hill lined with mansions that overlook the mountains.
Manny’s house—the place Rajan would bet all the ledgers got moved to after the café attack—is here, and Rajan knows for a fact the surveillance cameras’ range ends a few paces away. The Aces must know, too.
“If you’re thinking about warning your pals, don’t,” Zach says conversationally. “Or Kitty is dead.”
Rajan yawns pointedly before getting out of the vehicle. He’s unsteady at first—four days tied to a chair will do that—but once he’s gathered his bearings, he sets off up the street.
At the front gates, he’s waved through easily. But he feels the eyes following him this time. It makes sense now, after what Nick told him. He’s still seen as a backstabber.
He pats down the neck of his hoodie to make sure his tattoo is showing before stepping inside. As always, there are people milling around. Manny’s house is more of a base than a home—rumour is he doesn’t even actually live here.
He makes it up the stairs uneventfully, but someone bars him when he tries to step into the sitting room. “What are you doing?”
“Errand for Nick. He wants me to get something from the ledgers.” Rajan affects a bored look. “Do you need to call him first? Is he your keeper?”
They look him up and down, then let him pass. He’s been hanging around Nick enough that they believe him. But they still watch him. This will be the tricky part.
Rajan stops at the glass table. There’s a crystal tray with white dust on the edges, clearly recently used. He looks away immediately, willing himself to focus, and his eyes land on something else instead.
Jackpot. Two of the ledgers are here, open, as if someone’s been recently rifling through them. But isn’t there one more? He scans the table. It’s not there.
“What’re you doing in here?”
He turns. And there’s Manny Khullar himself.
Rajan hasn’t seen him in years, but he looks the same. A slick, expensive snake, with rings glinting on his fingers, scotch glass in hand. His expression, currently irritated. Especially when he sees Rajan holding a ledger.
“Running an errand for Nick,” Rajan repeats, and Manny’s expression changes.
“Ah. You’re the Randhawa kid.” He looks him over. “You’re taller than I imagined.”
Rajan can’t decide if that’s a compliment or an insult. Manny goes on.
“You’re running something for Nick? I thought you didn’t work for us anymore.”
“I help the bookkeeper out sometimes.” Rajan tosses the ledger back on the table. Manny instantly relaxes. “She wanted to look at the Ace ledgers.”
“Oh, she’s folded, has she? Good. I thought I’d have to do something drastic.” He circles Rajan. “You know, I swear we’ve met before.”
“We have. When I was fourteen.” Rajan glances at the clock.
“Really.”
“Yeah, at one of your twisted parties. You helped me do my first line of coke. Fuck you for that.”
Manny stares at him. Rajan’s certain very few people talk to him that way and walk out alive.
For a second, Rajan thinks he won’t be an exception, but then Manny chuckles and continues circling.
“If you want to blame me for your screwups, fine. I’m just here to serve the people.
” Although he’s currently behind Rajan, a smile enters his voice. “Take Simran, for instance.”
He pauses here. Deliberate. Rajan doesn’t move a muscle.
Manny reenters his line of vision. “The other day, she was in here whining about her work conditions. She came to her senses eventually. Then we had a nice evening together.” He nods to his crystal tray, clearly enjoying Rajan’s speechlessness.
“She’s very different after a few lines. Talkative. Annoying, honestly.”
His voice is sly. Rajan’s hands curl into fists. He remembers a few days ago when Simran showed up at his worksite. Acting so damn weird. Like she was sick...or coming down from something. But why?
Manny, still grinning, picks up his phone, which is vibrating in his pocket. His smug expression fades. “What?”
With effort, Rajan files away the information about Simran for later. Right now, it’s go time.
Manny strides to the window. “On the street? This is too far. Those fuckers—” He starts for the door.
Rajan does, too, the guards so distracted by Manny’s newfound distress that they don’t notice Rajan casually shoving ledgers into his baggy hoodie pocket.
He walks out with one of the Ace ledgers tucked under his arm, so brazenly that no one looks twice.
Rajan can’t decide if it’s a good or bad thing that Zach’s plan goes off without a hitch.
The little shootout near Manny’s mansion has the Lions distracted, and Rajan barely receives any attention as he leaves.
He gets picked up on the opposite end of the street, just outside the Lions’ cameras, yet again.
Once in the van, he tosses the books in Zach’s lap.
Zach sorts through them as the van starts driving. “And where’s our last ledger?”
“There weren’t any more.”
“Well, too bad. Kat’s not off the hook until you get it.”
“What? How is this my problem?” Zach’s seemingly fighting a smile. Sick asshole is enjoying the hell out of this. Rajan takes a long breath. “What day is it?”
They tell him. Saturday. He exhales. In a different situation, he might laugh about how, somehow, all roads inevitably lead to her.
But if he pulls this off, it will be the last time he intrudes on her life. “Fine.” He settles into his seat. “There’s one other place I could look.”