The Bollywood Bride by Sonali Dev

Author:Sonali Dev [Dev, Sonali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2015-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

18

Ria heard another car and rushed to her bedroom window. She pulled back a slit in the curtain and peeked out at the street. It was two in the morning. Light spilled from a solitary lamp at the end of the driveway and painted everything a surreal gray. She had run to the window so many times since coming home from Devon, she was amazed the carpet didn’t have a permanent path carved into it. Absently, she rubbed the depressed fibers with her big toe, and watched the car drive by without stopping.

Her laptop sat open on the bed, providing the only light in the room. She had tried to read the blasted script, but she couldn’t get the cut slashed into Vikram’s skin out of her head. Instead of taking her mind off the metallic stench of blood that clung to her nostrils like rotten molasses, the script had only intensified it. One gruesome death followed another against the backdrop of exploding vehicles and burning buildings. Fire and blood interspersed with more fire and blood.

Another car purred down the street, and Ria inched back the drapes to take another peek. This time the car turned up the driveway and bounced to a halt. The lighted AMERICAN TAXI sign on top flickered. Vikram staggered out of the backseat, his big body almost flying facedown on the concrete.

“You need help, man?” the driver asked from inside the cab.

“Nah, thanks, man. I got it.” Was he slurring?

He righted himself and gave the driver a salute before he drove off. He had changed back into his golf shirt and jeans. Light reflected off the tape she had pressed against his temple. Slung over his shoulder was her bloodstained scarf.

He weaved slowly up the path to the house. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up at her window. She jumped back, ducking away from the drapes, and plastered herself against the wall. Oh please, let him not have seen her.

For long seconds she heard nothing more. The only sound was her heart pounding in her ears. She tiptoed to her bedroom door and pressed her ear to the cool wood, straining to listen. Finally the key turned in the front door. It opened with one click, then shut with another. Another long moment of silence followed. Then she heard his footfalls going down the stairs.

Only instead of fading away, the footsteps grew louder.

She pulled away from the door. He wasn’t going down the stairs, he was coming up the stairs. Shit. She ran to the bed, slammed the laptop shut, and dived under the sheets. In the dead silence, she heard the precise moment when he reached the top of the stairs. She heard every slow deliberate step he took toward her door. She heard the precise moment when his hand touched her doorknob. The softest thud sounded against the door.

Her heart raced in her chest. She tried to relax her grip on the comforter, to even out her breathing. He twisted the doorknob. The tension in the springs coiled inside her belly.

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