ArHi SS-Seven Days *Complete* - Page 6

loving the way the story is going...

Chapter Five

The slow-moving fingers of sunlight made their way into the living-room and over the blue comforter covering a slim body curled up into one corner of the couch. The light didn't wake her; she was already awake. She had been for hours, ever since she had spilled her guts in the middle of the night to the man who still sat opposite her, presumably asleep.

She stretched out her arms, then stifled a yawn before rising from the couch and walking over to the restroom. A glance from the corner of her eyes revealed that Aryan was up too. Or maybe he just hadn't slept. Like her.

He followed her silently to the restroom, and neither said a word.

She shut the door behind her and went straight for the sink, then splashed her face with ice-cold water before staring at her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was almost a stranger, with her red-rimmed eyes and too-pale face.

In the darkness of the night, her confession had felt natural... cathartic, almost. She didn't regret what she had revealed. She had bottled it up for too long, and apart from Anjali, she had never spoken to another soul about what had really happened in her seemingly perfect marriage to N.K. The words had poured out of their own accord, and she knew that she couldn't have stopped that from happening even if she had wanted to.

His reply came back to her suddenly.

"Despite everything that's wrong with our world, we inherently trust that other people won't hurt us without obvious reason to do so. And that's what keeps the world running."

No one had ever said anything like that to her before. No one had tried to make sense of what had happened. Not even Anjali, whose pragmatic approach had focused on how to deal with the fallout and how to make N.K pay for all that he had done.

But now this man...this stranger had showed her a truth that was breathtaking in its simplicity.

She felt as if he had taken off her restraints...again.

But there was another side to this too, something that was now making her uncomfortable. Revealing the minutest details of this traumatic part of her personal life to a man about whom she knew nothing-- that made her feel naked. Exposed.

For God's sake, she hadn't even seen his face!

She knew nothing about him, nothing about why he was here, why he was holding her hostage. While he now knew everything about her...

Closing her eyes, she resolved to confront him on this. What did she have to lose after all?

A few moments later, she walked out of the restroom and found him in the kitchen, where he was forking some scrambled eggs onto a plate. Taking a deep breath, she walked over and sat down at the breakfast bar, then reached over casually for a piece of toast.

Inside, she was a quivering mass of nerves. Although she now believed that he would never hurt her, she still didn't know him well enough to predict how he would react to intrusive questions. But she did know that she had to try, if only for her own piece of mind.

She took a deep breath. "Do you remember how you removed my restraints after I'd spoken to Anjali? One act of insanity for another, that's how you'd explained it then. Do you think the same principle applies even now?"

She watched him still, watched as his brown eyes narrowed, then focused on her with a sharp intensity that made her breath stutter.

"Are you asking for a confession in return for a confession?"

She shrugged. "It only seems fair."

He stared at her for a long moment, and she found herself unable to look away. And then he sighed.

"Look, it's not like I don't appreciate the trust you've placed in me by telling me about your past. I know how difficult that must have been for you, but..."

She stiffened. Of course there would be a but'. She'd never thought this would be easy, had she?

He leaned across the counter towards her, his eyes boring into her.

"You should stay away from me. Far, far away from what I'm trapped in. What you're asking...it's impossible. That knowledge could be dangerous to you."

"Dangerous?" She scoffed. "How very Edward Cullen of you."

He leaned back, startled. A hint of laughter entered his eyes, and she released the breath she hadn't even been aware of holding.

"Edward Cullen? Wouldn't have figured you for a Twilight fan."

She shrugged, affecting a nonchalance that she didn't really feel at the moment. So he was trapped in something, was he?

That answered one of her questions anyway. Deep down, she'd always known that the man who had shown her startling, unexpected glimpses of respect and concern couldn't really be all evil, could he? Her curiosity raged on, and she found herself desperate to find out all she could about the circumstances that had driven him here. But she also knew that he would never confide in her...not now. He had taken her offhand remark and turned the conversation to a lighter vein that wasn't what she'd intended, but now she had no option but to follow his lead.

She sighed, "I'm not, not really. But I do keep track of movies that rake in millions. Assessing the competition, you know?"

He laughed. "I keep forgetting that you're Khushi Kaczinski, the heartthrob of millions."

She stiffened involuntarily. "It's Gupta now."

He inclined his head. "Of course."

Turning away, he took the pans over to the sink, and she shook her head. "You're really not going to tell me what brought you here?"

He turned his head slightly, but didn't look her in the eye as he replied. "No. It's for your own good. I'll probably be here for just a few more days, and then you'll never see me again. So in the end, it shouldn't even matter to you."

But it does!

She wanted to yell, wanted to drag the truth from him. She didn't even know why it was so important to her, but it was. But the finality in his words and his body language both told her that he wasn't going to relent, and she felt powerless, helpless in the face of his stubbornness.

And she hated feeling that way.

Making up her mind, she tossed the half-eaten piece of toast back on the plate and walked away. If he wasn't going to be forthcoming, she wasn't going to beg. She wanted to know, but not at the price of her fragile peace of mind. The entire purpose of holing up in this cold shell of a house was to regain her equilibrium, and she wouldn't have that compromised by a man who hadn't even told her his real name.

She would force herself to ignore him and his reasons for hiding here. She was strong enough for that, surely.

Throughout the long, tense day, she did just that. Curling up in an overstuffed armchair, she spent the entire morning with a book she'd been meaning to read for a while. He spent most of those hours scowling at her laptop, only looking up when she'd gotten up for lunch. She had then cleaned the wound on her hand and replaced the bandage before making herself a garden salad, while he had seated himself in a corner, chewing thoughtfully on yet another cheese sandwich.

She had only broken her self-imposed vow of silence when she had pointed to her phone, asking him tersely if it was okay for her to speak to Anjali on speakerphone. Ever since the previous night's confession, she had been aware of a need to speak to her, to make an apology of sorts for her behaviour over the past few days. She owed a lot to Anjali, she knew that. The least she could do was reassurance that all was well. That's all she'd asked for, really.

And he had agreed, with no hesitation.

It had been an awkward phone call, but she had managed to say all that she'd wanted to. Anjali had sounded surprised at first, and later, she had gone back into manager-mode, swiftly informing her that media interest hadn't died down yet, but she had accomplished a diversion by leaking a rumour about how Khushi had taken herself off to the South of France. That explained why there hadn't been paparazzi at her doorstep here, of course. All in all, the conversation had helped calm her down further.

In the evening, she'd taken a quick shower, and had come down again to find him stretched out on the carpet, his head resting on a throw pillow he'd pulled over from the couch. His eyes were open, though. They stared at each other for a moment, and then she walked over to the couch before lying down herself.

Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep, although it was only seven.

Sleep-deprivation had finally caught up with them both, and as the hours flew by, the shadows lengthened over the prone bodies of a man and a woman brought together by a strange quirk of fate.

-

4:40 AM

He woke with a start.

Momentarily disoriented, the first thing that registered was the hollow feeling in his gut. Swiping a hand across his eyes, he forced himself to focus on his watch and then squinted, sure that he had misread the time.

Had he really slept all through the evening and well into the wee hours of the morning?

He shot to his feet. How could he have been so careless? How could he have been so...weak?

Without even looking around, he knew that he was alone. Over the past few days, he had become attuned to her presence. The fact that she wasn't in the room with him had registered before he was even truly awake... that was probably the reason why he'd woken up in the first place.

He couldn't believe it.

Had she escaped, after all?

Striding across to the light switch, he turned on every single light in the room.

He ran his hand across his eyes, frustrated beyond belief when his action confirmed what he'd already suspected...the room and the adjoining kitchen were indeed empty.

What had he done?

Walking over to the balcony door, he threw that open and looked out, not expecting to find her there. And he didn't.

Upstairs.

He needed to check the first floor.

Turning around once more, he reached the staircase just as a soft voice shattered the silence.

"Oh good, you're awake. I've been waiting."

He stilled completely, then focused on the figure poised on the second-to-last step that led down to the living-room.

Relief, anger, and other unnamed, unwanted emotions swept through him at the sight, but he forced himself to maintain the facade, to stay calm and distant.

"Waiting?"

She tilted her head, regarding him curiously for a moment before walking down towards him. It was only then that he noticed that she had changed into a long, multi-coloured dress made of some kind of wispy, barely-there material. Although it covered her from neck to toe, the overall effect was dangerous to his equilibrium.

Mentally castigating himself for losing focus, he channelled his frustration into anger. Anger was safe...anger allowed him to keep his distance.

Anger kept her safe, not that she knew that, of course.

"Where the hell were you?"

She gestured towards her dress. "Isn't it obvious?"

He narrowed his eyes. "And you were changing at this ungodly hour because..."

"Because I'm exhausted."

"What?"

She shrugged. "I'm tired of staying in this same room, day after day. I want to go out. To the beach."

"At this hour? Are you insane?"

Her lips curved upwards into a semblance of a smile. "There's some light already, so why not? And at this time, we'll probably be safe from lurking paparazzi, if there are any."

"We?"

"I assumed that you don't trust me enough to allow me to go down there alone. Do you?"

He said nothing, and with another shrug, she walked over to the balcony door and stepped out. He had no choice but to follow, and he did, pausing only to grab his jacket and her phone on the way out.

The cool morning air made his eyes water, and he wondered if he should remind her to cover up before heading out. But she was an adult, and he wasn't her keeper.

Gritting his teeth, he followed her down a short flight of steps that led down from the balcony to a narrow, winding path, flanked on both sides by tall palm trees.

He watched her pause, then look around once before finally stepping down on the sand.

The sky was pearl-grey, and the ocean was just beginning to reflect the earliest rays of the rising sun. A light mist obscured the sea in the middle distance, and a few birds took flight as she walked on, her dress now trailing behind her on the pure white sand.

He stopped at the edge of the path, battling with conflicting desires. One part of him wanted to walk by the sea with this beautiful, enigmatic woman who was proving to be an unrelenting distraction from his real purpose...while the other part just wanted to run as far and fast as he possibly could...while he still had a choice.

In the end, he did neither.

Leaning back against the trunk of a palm, he pulled on his jacket, then watched her as she walked right up to the water. For long moments she just stood there, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared off into the distance.

He felt an unwelcome pang in the region of his heart. Life had dealt her an unfair hand, and she was doing her best...trying to cope as well as she could. And here he was, complicating her life further, refusing to share even the smallest part of himself with her even after she'd told him all.

Guilt reared its ugly head and he turned away, unwilling to confront those demons.

He had enough of his own at the moment.

Pulling out her phone, he logged in to check if there had been any communication from his friend, the partner whom he trusted above all else. But just like the previous few days, there was nothing. He realized that his partner was still laying low, still biding his time, just like he was.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to convince himself that it was only a matter of time. Their moment would come, and everything would work itself out. He had to believe that it would, however improbable it might seem at the moment.

Lost in his thoughts, he stayed that way for a while before rousing himself again.

Surely she'd been here long enough. He would tell her that they had to go back inside now and...

His thoughts ground to a halt when he turned around, only to find that she was no longer on the sand.

She wasn't...but her dress was.

The brightly coloured splash of fabric now lay where she had once stood, and he found himself walking towards the spot, confusion and anger warring for supremacy in his mind.

Where the hell had she gotten off to again?

He looked up and down the stretch of white sand, but couldn't find her anywhere. He was just about to turn back towards the house, wondering if she'd somehow gotten past him without him noticing, when another flash of colour caught his eye.

Black, this time.

Eyes widening in disbelief, he watched her rise out of the ocean like some mythical sea-nymph, her long hair trailing wetly behind her as she walked into the shallow waves nearer the shoreline. Her black swimsuit clung to her curves, outlining them faithfully. As he watched, she drew her hair over one shoulder, then proceeded to wring the excess water out of it before finally walking out onto the sand.

Aware that he was staring at her like a horny adolescent, he made a conscious effort to drag his eyes away as she got closer.

She walked right up to him, then stopped when there were only a few feet separating them.

"Well?"

Well?

What the hell did that mean?

Was she asking him for his opinion?

"What?"

Her lips quirked and he had the strangest feeling that she was privy to all his innermost thoughts at that moment.

"You're standing on my dress. Care to move aside so I can wear it again?"

He looked down in bewilderment and realized that she was right. His right foot stood squarely on the hem, and he hadn't even realized it.

Stepping aside hurriedly, he bent down and handed it to her.

"Here. Get dressed, then get back inside."

His voice was terse, abrupt. But he didn't care. It had taken all his willpower to combat the effects of her proximity, and the strain was showing.

But she shook her head. "I'm still wet. I need to dry off before I wear that. And since I forgot a towel, the cold air will have to do."

To his disbelief, she spread out her dress on the sand, then sat down on it, leaning back on her elbows and looking at the sea, which was now more blue than grey.

He stared, knowing that the seduction was unconscious...and all the more powerful for that.

And he knew too, that he was just a man at the end of the day.

Turning his back on temptation, he unlocked the phone again. This time, he clicked on her local news app, resolving to divert his mind with random current events before he lost all control.

But what he saw there chilled his blood.

-

6:10 AM

Khushi took her time in the shower, luxuriating beneath the warm spray, allowing it wash away the salt residue from her skin. The fragrant body wash helped sooth her senses, ravaged after the conflicting emotions she'd experienced over the past few hours. She had asked to go down to the beach because she'd felt stifled, but the peace she'd sought still remained just out of reach.

Swimming in the ocean before dawn had always been her sure way to calm down when things weren't going as they should, but today, there had been a whole new dimension to the exercise. His gaze had made her aware of her body in ways that she'd forgotten over the years. She was used to strangers ogling her, of course. It was an occupational hazard and she had accepted it as part of her job description. But there had been something different in the eyes that had followed her this morning as she'd made her way down to the beach, and later, when she'd stepped out of the water. Maintaining her poise had seemed impossible then, but she'd managed to put some distance between them before giving herself away completely.

But when she'd looked up from her prone position on the sand, his eyes had held something else in their depths...an anxiety, a panic that she'd never seen there before. He had brusquely ordered her to get back inside and she'd done exactly that, knowing instinctively that something had gone terribly wrong.

When he'd barely taken his eyes off her phone on the way back inside, and later, stared in blatant disbelief at her laptop, her suspicions had been confirmed. She'd almost asked him then, had almost broken her promise to herself about ignoring him. But in the end, all she'd done was ask him if she could shower, and he'd waved her off without even looking in her direction.

Yes, something was wrong...but damned if she knew what it was.

A half hour later, she made her way into her kitchen, dressed in a linen shift dress in shades of blue. With her hair blow-dried and styled to perfection, she felt more like herself again. Yet deep down, she knew that she'd only done all that in order to postpone the moment when she came back downstairs...when she had to face him again.

As she pulled out a carton of orange juice from her fridge, she heard his voice, husky with the desperation he couldn't quite hide.

"No, I saw it with my own eyes. The location is definitely compromised. Look, we can't hide anymore. The DA is our only chance, and you know that as well as I do."

There was a pause and then, "I will tell you where I am...in my next call. Keep your head down and stay safe."

She looked up as he walked back inside from the balcony, the phone now held by his side. Their eyes met, and she saw the question in his.

She shrugged. "I only heard the last part. And don't worry, it made zero sense to me."

Without waiting for a reply, she made her way out to the balcony, then slowly sipped on the cool, refreshing liquid , her eyes on the cerulean blue sea in the distance.

Behind her, she heard him pull out a chair, his agitation obvious in his movements. Chancing a glance back at him, she saw that he was dialing a number again. But within a few moments, he slammed the phone back down and stood up with a muttered expletive.

Something snapped within her. She could stay still no longer.

Walking back to him, she stood by the table, her hands crossed across her middle.

"If you're going to abuse my phone, the least you can do is tell me why."

He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Some of the desperation left his eyes, to be replaced by a calculating, speculative gleam that made her wary. He said nothing for the longest time, and then sighed.

"Yes, I really think I should."

She was so astonished; she said nothing for a moment. When she'd questioned him again, she had never, ever expected a reply. And now that he had apparently relented, she was unsure how to respond.

He didn't give her the chance . Walking across to the window, he glanced over his shoulder.

"You might want to sit down. This is going to take a while."

Numb with disbelief, she walked over to the chair nearest him and seated herself, her hands clasped tightly together. There was something different in his stance, a hopeless resignation that scared the hell out of her.

And she had no idea why.

Suddenly, he turned back to face her. "Before I tell you anything, know this: the only reason I'm telling you anything is because I no longer have any choice. What I'm about to tell you is only known by one another person , and he is in as much danger as I am, at the moment. So if anything were to happen to either of us...I need to know that there's still someone out there who knows the truth."

"The...truth?" The words came out in a whisper.

He looked straight at her. "Look, I know you don't know me from Adam, but believe me just this one time. What I'm about to tell you is the real, unvarnished truth. If something were to happen to me, I want you to make sure that the real story gets out there. Do you understand?"

For a moment, she was paralyzed by the idea of anything happening to him. Her entire being shied away from that thought, but she rallied quickly, knowing that she needed to keep her wits about her.

"I believe you. God knows why, but I do. And yes, I promise."

For a long, timeless moment, he just stared at her.

And then he finally nodded.

"You'll need paper. And a pen." Walking over to her desk, he pulled both objects from her drawer and handed it to her. "You'll need to note down names. And places."

She stared down at the pen, unable to grasp it properly. Her mind was reeling, and he hadn't even told her anything yet...

She pulled herself together with an effort.

"Start talking, Aryan."

His mouth twisted, and then he turned away again.

"That's not my name. And I'm not a criminal, despite what I've done here, in your house. "

"Who are you, then?"

"I am a private investigator. We...me and my partner, Aman Mathur...we manage our own firm, A.R. You might want to write all this down."

Dutifully, she wrote down the names.

A private investigator?

That was the last thing she would have guessed.

"About a month ago, we were approached by a client. You might have heard of her...Lavanya Matthews?"

"The new trophy wife of Richard Matthews, the real-estate mogul?"

"Yes. She hired us to find out if what she'd suspected was true: that her husband of nine months was cheating on her."

Khushi stilled. Lavanya Matthews was a regular on the social circuit, but she didn't know her very well. From what she knew of her, she was a shrewd, intelligent woman who knew what she was doing. So if she had her suspicions, then...

"Was she right?"

Aryan's shoulders stiffened. "Yes."

"The bas***d."

Her expletive startled him into a laugh. "You have no idea."

"Men who cheat on their wives, in any way...they should all be condemned to the depths of hell. No exceptions."

"But that's not all he did."

"What do you mean?"

He walked over to another chair, then pulled it over and straddled it, facing her now. "He was cheating on her alright. But not with a woman."

Her eyes widened. "No?"

Aryan sighed. "I know this next part is going to be hard to believe, but I need you to stay with me here."

She nodded, unable to say anything else at the moment.

"We found out that he had been seeing someone for years. It was a long-term affair, very discreet. It took us weeks to catch him in the act...but one day, I caught a break. I followed him to a house in the suburbs, and there...there I saw the person with whom he had been conducting this affair, right under his wife's nose."

"Who... who was it?"

"Gautam Chauhan."

She stopped breathing for a moment. Her next words came out in a strangled whisper, even as her mind struggled to understand.

"The senator?"

He stared at her, and it almost seemed like he was willing her to believe this. "The very same."

"I...this is incredible. Isn't the senator married too?"

"Yes. He even has a son."

"I can't believe that...they've managed to keep this quiet for so long. Are you...absolutely sure?"

He leaned back and sighed. "Yes. I was just as surprised as you are. But I saw it with my own eyes. And I have proof."

"Proof?"

"A tape. I recorded a few minutes of their rendezvous, and then I had to leave before I was discovered. But then I made my first mistake."

He scrubbed a weary hand over his eyes, and she found herself unable to say a word. This was beyond anything she'd ever imagined...and she still had no idea why all this had brought him here.

His eyes met hers again, and she could see the pain there, clear as day.

"I called Lavanya Matthews before I was out of that neighbourhood. I was shell-shocked, and I blurted out the truth before thinking it through. I even told her about the tape, and I asked her to meet me down at my office in a couple of hours so I could hand it to her. It was...rush hour, and traffic was bad. It was going to take me that long to get back to the city. She agreed. Her disgust and rage nearly made her incoherent, but she did manage to say that much. We were going to meet that evening, I would hand over that tape, and she would use it as she saw fit. We would be paid for our services, and everyone would go their own way. That was how it was supposed to go..."

She sensed the but' this time.

"But we hadn't counted on one thing. The sheer desperation and coldblooded rage of her husband...and the senator."

"They found out?"

"They did. When Lavanya was ending the call, she told me that her husband was on the other line. I'm assuming that she told him what she'd found out...and probably even threatened him with public exposure. And finally, she told him where she was going, and why."

He stopped talking, his eyes clenched tight, as if he was trying to block out what had happened next. She couldn't fathom what could be so bad, surely. The worst that could result was a divorce, right?

"Wait...how do you know all this? Did Lavanya call you back?"

"She never got the chance."

His eyes were open now, and it was like staring into the depths of hell.

A chill of foreboding slithered down her spine.

"What do you mean?"

"I...I was just a couple of miles away from my office when I received a frantic call from Aman. I pulled over and listened in utter disbelief as he relayed what he'd just discovered. Our office is equipped with CCTV, and we have remote monitoring enabled. It's just a routine safety measure, but this time...this time when he randomly logged in, he saw something that devastated him."

The foreboding solidified into certainty. "Lavanya?"

He nodded, and would no longer meet her eyes. "The camera footage from our office showed her entering the office just a few minutes before I was due to get there. But someone...a masked man was already lying in wait. Before Aman's very eyes...he shot Lavanya in cold blood. With my spare gun."

She dropped the pen, shock cascading through her. "What?"

He looked back at her, a bleak look in his eyes. "Aman saw it all happen. Lavanya was shot, and the scene was arranged to make it look like I had done it. And then the masked man received a call on his cell, and Aman heard him reassuring someone that he had taken care of the problem, and that he would now lie in wait for me. They wanted that tape. They were desperate to get their hands on it, and they didn't care who got in their way. Framing me for Lavanya's murder would solve all their problems. It would put me in prison, they would get the tape, and Lavanya was already dead. Everything would be solved, just like that. We realized then that we were up against some very powerful enemies, people who were above the law of the land, so to speak. We didn't know how far their power extended...but we didn't wait to find out."

Her eyes burned. This was evil beyond anything she'd ever imagined. "How could they just..."

"They did. To them, exposure would mean the loss of power, position, reputation. Compared to that, a mere trophy wife and P.I. were not a big deal. So they did what they had to."

"But you...got away. How?"

He sucked in a deep breath. "Sheer luck, really. Like I said, Aman just happened to be looking at the live footage then. If he hadn't logged in, I would have walked straight into the trap. But as things turned out, we were forewarned. And that gave us a slight advantage. As we spoke on the phone, Aman reported that the live stream had stopped, and we realized that the masked man had disabled the camera, probably even destroyed the recording in order to hide all evidence. But he didn't know about Aman, who had this backed up on his laptop. Shell-shocked as we were, we pulled ourselves together and made sure that he transferred everything onto a disc. With that, and the tape that was with me, we had planned to head straight to the DA. It was our only chance."

"The DA? Sam Jiang?"

He looked up at that. "You know him?"

"I've...met him, once or twice. He didn't exactly strike me as the moral, upright type."

This caught his attention. He stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"Well...he made a pass at me. And he knew that I was married."

He ran a hand over his eyes. "Let's just hope that his skewed moral compass doesn't extend to his professional life. Because he's still our only chance. I don't know where else we could go with this..."

"Were you calling him earlier today?"

"Yes. But I keep getting put through to his PA. I can't afford to talk to anyone else. This matter is too sensitive."

She shifted in her seat. "Anjali could probably find out his private number."

A flare of hope lit his eyes. "That would help us immensely. I really need to get in touch with him urgently."

A frown marred her face. "I don't get it. Why didn't you just go to him at once?"

"That was our intention. We were going to get to his office separately, and then hand over the evidence and ask for protection. We knew what we were up against, and we weren't foolhardy enough to try and outrun someone with that kind of power."

"But that's exactly what you ended up doing."

"Yes. Because on our way there, we were attacked. I was shot at in a back alley and narrowly escaped. It was then that I knew that we had to get out of town, and do it fast. I made a quick call to Aman, only to find out that he was on the run too. I took the first bus I could find, then changed two more before I finally made it out of the city. And then I took a train out to the beach district. But before that, I managed to stash the tape where no one would ever find it. Finally, I took a ferry after making sure that I wasn't being followed. It dropped me off at a pier and I bought this mask there, then searched for a place to hide, somewhere I could lay low until we could figure out our next step. It was then that I chanced upon your staff as they were leaving your home that night..."

She sat back in her chair as it all made sense. "And you decided to hide in this empty house...only it wasn't empty."

"No."

Their eyes clashed again, and she saw something in his that she didn't want to acknowledge.

Not at this moment anyway.

"And Aman? Where is he?"

"He told me that he'd used a fake ID and taken the first flight out of the city. But then we decided to sever all contact until it was safe. I didn't call him again, not until today... until now; I was trying to find out all I could about the people we were up against, and how we could use this evidence to our advantage when we are finally able to present it in court."

"That explains my laptop...but I still don't get it. Why didn't you just go to the cops?"

He gestured towards the television. "Because of that. Or rather, because of what you didn't see on that."

"What do you mean?"

"There hasn't been anything in the news about Lavanya's murder. Not yet. And if that isn't unusual enough, there isn't anything about me or Aman on the local news. No one is out there, looking for us."

Confused, she shook her head. "I don't understand."

"It's simple, really. Obviously Chauhan and Matthews have very, very powerful friends. People who can keep a murder under wraps, who have probably issued a media gag on the entire crime. And they are doing this because they don't want me to get caught...not before they find out where I've hidden that tape. And if we go to the cops now, there's no saying will happen to us. They are capable of anything...and we have some idea of how far their influence extends. That's why the DA is our only option, because all my research seems to indicate that he is above reproach..."

She paused to digest this. Something still bothered her, though. "You said you didn't call Aman until today...and earlier on the beach, you were obviously shaken by something. And then there's your sudden decision to confide in me now. So what has changed, Aryan?"

He stared at her, then stood up suddenly before walking over to her laptop and turning it around to face her.

She read the headline of the article, puzzled.

Fifth street to be closed from tomorrow as demolition of Briar High School begins day after.

It made no sense. "What does this have to do with anything?"

That bleak look entered his eyes again. "That's my old school. It's where I hid the tape when I was running for my life."

It all fell into place now. "Oh God."

"Exactly. I have to get to that tape before it is buried under a pile of rubble. And then I have to make my way to the DA, somehow."

Her next words spilled out without forethought. "I could get it for you."

"No."

The vehemence in that single word caught her by surprise, but she rallied. "They have no idea that I'm involved with you. No one would suspect me. It's perfect."

In an instant, he was around the table and standing before her, his hands clamped on her shoulders with a grip of steel.

"Listen to me, and get this straight. Those men have already killed one person, and attempted to kill two more. If you think that I am pulling you into this any deeper than I already have, then you don't know me very well."

The intensity in his brown eyes burned into her, and she nodded shakily. "Fine. But there must be something I can do, some way I could help...I can't just sit here and let you do this all alone!"

Why not?

He hadn't said that out loud, but she heard it all the same.

She was asking herself the same question too.

Why had this suddenly become so important to her?

But there would be time enough to answer that later. Right now, she needed to focus.

"Just tell me. How can I help?"

He let go of her shoulders, then took a deep breath before closing his eyes and turning away from her. His next words were low-voiced, and tore at her with the air of resigned despair that accompanied them.

"Just get me the DA's number. Please."

She sat there for a moment, then stood abruptly, placing one hand on his shoulder and turning him around to face her. It was the first time she'd ever voluntarily touched him, and the contact shocked them both.

She forced herself to ignore that, too.

"Don't you dare do that."

He watched her with narrowed eyes. "Do what?"

"Don't you dare give up. Not now. Not when there's still hope. You are innocent, and I'll be damned if I let you go down without a fight. Now hand me that f**king phone and let me call Anjali."

Her angry words had clearly stunned him, but he handed over the phone without comment.

In moments, she had Anjali's promise that she would get back soon with the number.

"So now we wait. Do you want something to eat while we do?"

Her change of subject threw him for a moment. "Eat?"

"Yes. You know, that thing you do with food. That thing you've been forcing me to do, ever since you got here."

A glimmer of humour lightened the stormy brown of his eyes. "I'll get it. I don't want you to slice open another finger."

She would have laughed at that, but they were interrupted by the ring of her phone. It was Anjali, and she quickly wrote down the DA's private number, laughing when Anjali conveyed just how excited Sam Jiang had been when he'd heard that Khushi had asked for this.

It amazed her that she could still laugh at a time like this. But it was either that, or cry. Or rant at the injustice of it all. And somehow, she didn't think that he would appreciate her going to pieces over this.

With the paper in her hand, she turned back to him. "Here's the number. You can call him now, and let's..."

The words died in her throat.

He had taken off his mask.

The paper floated to the ground unnoticed as her eyes took in his angular features, the dark brown eyes...and the unruly hair that was now revealed to her.

She knew what this meant.

It was his trust, freely offered.

It felt like the most precious gift she'd been given in a while and she knew she had to say something, acknowledge it somehow. But for some unknown reason, she was distracted by a distant memory, even as her heart pounded against her ribs.

When she was twelve, one of her foster parents had given her a complicated jigsaw puzzle, one that had taken her weeks to put together. And when it was close to being complete, she realized that she was missing one piece. The picture was almost complete, but without the one piece, it would never be a finished image...it would never really mean anything. She had searched and searched for days, and then she'd found the missing piece under her bed. When she'd finally put that piece in, the picture was complete.

Her joy and satisfaction had been unparalleled at that moment.

And for some unknown reason, that was exactly what she felt at this moment.

It wasn't just love or lust or happiness.

It was the sheer, blinding satisfaction of having the final piece fall into place...a piece that she hadn't even realized was missing.

Until now.

As if in a trance, she walked up to him. Her fingers traced the lines of his cheek, then softly caressed the impression left by the ski-mask he'd worn for days.

He said nothing, but his eyes burned once more.

The fire was different this time, and she couldn't stop herself from whispering his name.

"Aryan..."

He shook his head, then placed his fingers on her lips.

"It's Arnav. Arnav Raizada."

-

Chapter 6 (Pt 1&2)

Beautifully written story.

Beautiful. What a story...it does all sorts of things to my insides! Suspense and Arnav and Khushi are just too irresistible a mix. Heady cocktail. So lovely how they share that trust in bits...passion simmering just below the surface. Love his final gesture of trusting her...taking off the ski mask and telling her his actual name...cannot wait to see what happens now! And for perhaps the first time, I am stalking this story obsessively. So take a bow girl!

Best,