Page 159 of Carrick
There was a beat of quiet resistance. Then a bitter laugh, low and dry. “You want the truth?”
“Yes,” I said. “Always.”
He sighed. “I used the money.”
I went still. Every muscle tensed like it was waiting for a second blow.
“What do you mean?” I asked carefully.
“The cash you gave me. I used it to put a dent in what I owed. Like a down payment. Bought myself some time. Some space.”
Quinn’s jaw locked. Jax’s fingers froze mid-scroll on his tablet. Sully swore under his breath and leaned back, folding his arms tight.
Rayden continued like he didn’t hear any of us. “I told them I’d work off the rest. Keep my head down. Run jobs. Pay it off slowly, quietly.”
He was spiraling.
I could hear it in the way his words trailed off. Like he was convincing himself more than us.
“That’s not time,” Carrick said evenly. “That’s a noose you just tightened.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Rayden snapped. “You think I haven’t been counting every second I bought with thatcash? You think I didn’t know what would happen if I didn’t dosomething?”
My throat tightened. “You could’ve called us.”
“Ididn’twant you involved!” he shot back. “I didn’t want to drag you any deeper. And now what? You call me on this fucking burner like I’m some government op? You think I haven’t already lost too much?”
“You haven’t lost me,” I said. Quiet. Firm. “But you’re going to. If you keep this up, you’re going to disappear, Ray. And I don’t know how many more times I can survive losing you.” The silence on the other end wasn’t just heavy—it was fractured. Then I heard it. The faintest exhale. Like maybe he believed me. Like maybe that mattered.
I reached for the phone without asking permission, grabbing it off the table and bringing it close like it would make him hear me better.
“Ray, listen to me.”
He was quiet.
“Listening to me,” I repeated. “You hear my voice? You remember who I am?”
He let out a soft breath. “Of course I do. What kind of question is?—”
I cut him off. “Then listen.”
I stood slowly, crossing to the window where the early sunlight was just starting to creep in through the blinds. The phone felt hot in my hand. “We always promised each other,” I said, quietly enough that I wasn’t sure if the people sitting at the table would be able to hear me, “that someday, there’d be a better life. One with blue skies and safe nights and nothing in our pockets but time. Remember? We used to say it. Beyond the rainbow, Bell. Someday we’ll make it there.”
“Bell—”
“No. Listen to me. If you stay where you are… if you keep letting them pull the strings, you’re never going to get there. You’ll never even get to see the other side.”
His breath caught.
“You’ve still got time,” I said, softer now. “But not if you keep trading pieces of yourself just to survive another day. There’s more than this. You deserve more than this.” I paused. And said the thing I hadn’t let myself believe I’d get to say again. “Let me help you. Please.”
For a moment, the line went so quiet, I thought maybe he’d hung up. Then?—
“I can’t run. Not like you did.”
“I didn’t run. I just got somewhere… safe. But I’m not asking you to run.”
“Then what exactly are you asking?” His voice sounded confused.
