Page 81 of You Owe Me

I swallow hard. Now isn’t the time to spiral. Not when Carter Mills is circling like a vulture.

“I need you to do this,” I say, forcing my voice steady. “Carter Mills is threatening Maverick. If I don’t find something to stop him?—”

“Then maybe that’s Maverick’s problem to solve,” Jin interrupts. “Not yours.”

“It becomes mine when it threatens the person I love.”

Jin studies my face for a long moment, and whatever he sees there seems to convince him that arguing is pointless. He lets out another heavy sigh and cracks his knuckles like he’s preparing for surgery.

“Fine, but when this all goes to hell—and it will go to hell—remember that I warned you.”

He turns back to his computer and starts typing with renewed intensity. “Give me an hour. And Ainsley?”

“Yeah?”

“After this, we’re even. Whatever favor I owed Maverick, this covers it. I don’t care what he says.”

I nod, even though something tells me it’s not going to be that simple. In Maverick’s world, nothing ever is.

As Jin disappears into his digital fortress, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just opened a door I might not be able to close. That in trying to protect Maverick from Carter, I’ve stumbled into something much bigger and more dangerous than I realized.

But it’s too late to back out now.

The favor’s been called in.

And all I can do is wait to see what secrets Jin uncovers—and hope they’re worth the price I’m starting to realize I might have to pay.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Rumor has it, he's about to make the most permanent deal of his life.

Maverick

Jin’s voice still echoes in my head when I kill the call.

“She cashed in your favor.”

No preamble. No apology. Just those words, blunt and cold and final.

I should’ve seen it coming. Ainsley’s been running quiet for days, hiding behind laughter and those soft eyes that go glassy whenever I try to dig deeper. But walking into Jin’s space and throwing my name around like a weapon? That’s a new level of audacity, even for her.

I stare down at the IOU card on the passenger seat, the ink still feeling fresh. No names. No terms. Just the weight of what it means. It’s how I operate with quiet power and unspoken rules. You don’t speak my name. You don’t spend what isn’t yours. And when I come to collect, you don’t hesitate.

And yet, she did all three.

She walked into Jin’s lab, used my reputation like currency, and leveraged a hacker with a rap sheet longer than my medical file. She used fear and my favor to get what she wanted. And the worst part? I’m not even mad.

I’m rock-fucking-hard.

Watching her command my world like it’s hers isn’t betrayal. It’s foreplay. But the lies, the silence? That’s what’s unforgivable. She didn’t come to me. She went behind my back instead.

And now I’m going to remind her exactly whose name she used and what it costs to use it.

My heart rate monitor pings. 142.

I lean back in the driver’s seat, eyes locked on the entrance to the marine science building. Students pour out in loose clusters, laughing and stretching and checking their phones like they don’t know how fragile normal is. Like their world doesn’t run on IOUs and silence and power leveraged in dark corners.

Then I see her.

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