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Alex gently closed the bathroom door, the man’s wailing sobs echoing behind it. The cool evening breeze hit his face the moment he stepped outside, the sky bleeding red over the rooftops. He glanced at the clock on his phone, but the message from this Robin person glared back, like a stain that couldn’t be removed. He ignored it for now and sent a message to Jaeha.

Augs: got it meet me in the back

The gym was right down the street from the public restroom. It was one of the main establishments at the small corner plaza. Sweaty young people flooded out after their workouts and headed towards the popular boba shop next door for a late-night sugar rush. Alex turned left into the alley just before the main entrance, avoiding garbage that lay near two dumpsters. Around the back, a thick, burly Asian man stood outside with arms crossed, flexing the intricate white tiger tattoo across his taut muscles.

Jaeha turned to Alex, his smooth side-parted hair swished to the side. He frowned as Alex held up the wallet. “That’s it?” he grumbled.

“Had to go with plan B. Your client couldn’t tell me where your stash was.” Alex tossed the wallet to Jaeha, who caught it with his large fist. “He has several of those credit cards or whatever. Buy yourself some new equipment as an early Christmas present.”

Jaeha peered into the wallet’s crevices and took out several bills and five credit cards. He pursed his lips, gave an approving nod, and stuffed everything back before putting it in the pocket of his large basketball shorts. In his other pocket, he took out a small manila envelope and tossed it to Alex.

It wasn’t usual for Jaeha not to say a word. Alex opened it carefully and counted his cut. He frowned. He counted a second time, then smacked Jaeha’s thick bicep with the packet.

“What the fuck, man?!” He waved it in front of him. “This was not part of the deal! This is lower than what we agreed on! Where’s the rest of it?”

Jaeha gestured his hands out with a grimace on his face. “That’s for being late. Be happy I am feeling generous, considering you came back with less than what I asked for.” Jaeha smirked at the sight of Alex’s scowl. He crossed his thick arms again, the tattooed phoenix now covering the tiger. “You’re slipping, dude.”

Alex spat. “The fuck you mean?”

“Since you left your daddy’s gang, you come crawling to us to take up any job. Kinda pathetic.”

Alex could have clocked Jaeha in the face, but he knew better than to piss his clients off. He hated that he was right. And he hated hearing this from Jaeha specifically—of all the Bai Hu, the one who thought more with his fists than his brains. “Yet y’all still hired me. So, who’s the pathetic one now?”

The guitar riff blasted between their conversation. Alex whipped out his phone.

Robin: You’re the only one that could do this job. I don’t trust anyone else to do it.

Robin’s persistence had been torture. At first, Alex had written them off as spam. But the mention of Ayase—and the insistence that only he could do this—gave him second thoughts. Alex ignored Jaeha’s furrowed brows and clenched fists as he texted back.

Augs: lemme get back to u inna few

“You know what,” said Alex, putting his phone away and glancing at Jaeha. “You right. Maybe I am slipping.”

Jaeha unclenched his body, looking confused.

“I just got another gig, so find yo’self a new guy.”

“Bet they pay you less,” Jaeha spat back.

Alex scoffed in disbelief as he started towards one of the loves of his life—a black 2006 Dodge Challenger, parked at the wall across from them.

“Not as little as yo momma charges,” he called back.

***

When the neon red “Hallowed Gas” sign appeared in the darkness, Alex pulled into the back of the auto shop connected to the small gas station. Sharp clanking noises came from behind the garage’s closed doors. Hal must be busy. With no way to enter the garage without a clicker, Alex entered through the screen back door.

As expected, it was open. The screen door slammed behind Alex as he walked through the narrow corridor, passing by the storage room and the single bathroom.

A tall Black man in a jean jacket turned around. A small brown feather dangled from one of his front dreads. He frowned, holding a medium cardboard box in his hands. “Ey foo, I told you, don’t fucking use the back door. Use the front like everyone else.”

“Then maybe you should do a better job of locking it, dumbass,” Alex retorted, crossing his arms.

Hal rolled his eyes as he went to the fridges at the back of the store. Alex followed, eyeing the products around him. There were more Latin and Asian foods than the last time he was here.

Somewhere between Hal’s departure from the Garras and now, the gas station had gone through several identity crises.

At first, it was a typical American gas station before Hal brought in imported Mexican snacks and set up a makeshift grill behind the front counter to heat up ready-made taquitos. Now it was going through a wannabe-Asian convenience store phase. Alex couldn’t remember all the other dumb ideas in between.