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Becoming Rain: Chapter 45

LUKE

“Fuck!” I slam my phone down, earning Miller’s glare. “Sorry. The cops are still dicking me around.” My car was supposed to be released last week, but apparently they have a backlog in their investigations unit. They said I’d get it back next week. Maybe.

Miller grunts as he eases his body out of his chair and drops several checks on my desk. “Here. I guess you’re supposed to sign these now, right?”

“What is this for?” I eye all the digits staring back at me.

“Tax man.”

“Already? I thought all that got squared away with the lawyers when we changed ownership over.”

Miller laughs, an odd and grating sound. “You’re never squared away with paying taxes. These are the next installment. Don’t worry, the money’s already sitting in the account to cover it. You just have to sign it over.”

I scrawl my name across the line and hand it back. “Don’t ever leave me, Miller.”

He responds with another grunt as he ambles back to his corner. I pick up the plaque that showed up mysteriously on my desk this morning, tracing the engraved letters that spell out “Nurse Boss Boone.” And I smile. Tabbs and Zeke are obviously behind it. It’s their way of congratulating me, while still getting their digs in. I don’t mind so much anymore.

I can’t believe this garage is mine. Not bad for a twenty-four-year-old guy. Based on the numbers I just handed over to the government, and the earnings statements I saw while signing ownership papers, I could make a good, solid living off this place if I keep it up.

A good, solid clean living, running this place and flipping cars, just like Rain suggested.

I eye my burner phone sitting next to my personal phone. Quiet and unassuming. I haven’t gotten used to it. Do I really want to spend the rest of my life carrying one of those around? Wondering who’s listening on the other end?

Do I really want to sit at a bar with my girlfriend and my uncle and worry about an angry Russian showing up to yell and spit at us?

I lay in Rain’s bed last night for hours, listening to her breathe against my chest, thinking about everything. Wondering if, when she actually finds out what I’ve been doing with Rust, she’ll change her mind and leave me.

Stupid, really. If I should be worried about anything, it’s jail time, not losing my girlfriend. Yet Rain, and what she’ll think of me, is the one constant worry that keeps popping into my head. Lately, it’s even louder than my worry about disappointing Rust if I tell him that I think I want out.

What will he say?


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