29. Ishaan
TWENTY-NINE
Ishaan
Ishaan rang the doorbell and waited, stress building into a migraine at the base of his head. He squeezed his neck hard and wished to hell the door would open so he could get this over with.
The door stayed closed.
Cursing under his breath, he stuck his thumb on the doorbell and leaned into it. Virat yanked the door open and glared at him. Water dripped off his friend’s angry face and body, the towel he clutched around his waist threatening to unravel. Ishaan’s hand itched to give it a hard yank but he wasn’t sure Virat was in the mood for his pranks.
“What are you doing?” Virat demanded. “You have the code. Why aren’t you using it?” He didn’t wait for an answer, turning around and storming off into the interior of his flat leaving Ishaan to follow.
“I wasn’t sure you’d want me to use it right now,” Ishaan called out to his retreating back.
“You’re a dick, Ish,” Virat yelled back. “Don’t be a moron as well.”
Ishaan heard the code being inputted into the front door and turned in time to see Amay walk in.
“Thank you for coming,” he said formally. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be home when I sent you the message.”
“Talk fast.” Amay buttoned his cuffs as he stood near the entrance. “I have to get to the hospital.”
Virat walked out of his bedroom in tracks and a t-shirt that looked like it needed to be used to mop floors or better still line the floor of a landfill. But Ishaan knew better than to say that. In his current mood, Virat would bury him in a landfill.
“I see you’ve been shopping,” he announced, a second later, his tongue as always not in his control when his nerves got the better of him. “I like the shirt man.”
Virat sent him an incinerating glare even as Amay shook his head in resignation.
“I need help,” he announced, deciding it was better to get to the point.
“You might want to start with therapy,” Amay said dryly, putting his hands on his hips and watching him with his ‘old, tired, wise man’ eyes.
“Ha ha,” Ishaan retorted, then paused. “Maybe we could get a group discount.”
Virat sighed, his head hanging, as he braced his hands on his kitchen counter. It was spotlessly clean, as always. His OCD was another thing to address in those group therapy sessions, Ishaan thought.
“What do you need help with Ish?” he asked, fatigue seeming to settle like a cloak around him.
He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Probably since Ishaan had taken an electric prod to his deepest, most painful wound. Guilt sliced through him at the thought. He’d had the best of intentions but intentions meant shit when they caused pain.
“I’m sorry,” he told Virat, letting his friend see just how much he meant it.
Virat smiled, the smallest quirk of his lips. “Did you choke on those words when you were forcing them out?”
“Fuck you.” Ishaan rubbed a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to push you into this abyss of darkness. I just thought it was the right thing to do.”
“You were right.”
Virat’s quiet statement had Ishaan gaping at him. He turned to Amay and demanded, “You heard him too, didn’t you? He said I was right!”
Amay grinned. “Sometimes, even the impossible happens, Ish. On that note, thank you for returning my aftershave.”
“Shut up!” Ishaan turned back to Virat. “Say that again!”
“You were right and I was wrong.” Virat met his eyes steadily, aged pain darkening his gaze. “But I’m not ready.”
They fell silent. After a moment, Amay said cautiously, “That’s understandable.”
Virat glanced down at his clenched fists and nodded. “Understandable but not ideal. Ishaan is right. She deserves to know. She would want to know.”
Unspoken were the words that Virat would always give her what she wants, even if he had to split the earth open to do so.
“So about the therapy Ishaan needs,” Virat said, in a valiant bid to change the topic. “Should we warn the counselling fraternity about what’s coming their way?”
Ishaan rolled his eyes at them. “Can we talk about my problem now?”
The guys laughed but waited for him to continue. Ishaan pulled out his phone and showed them the copy of the message Ashish had sent Mayukhi.
Bring lover boy to the party tomorrow at Naveen’s place. We’re looking forward to initiate him into the group.
Amay’s brows rose. “That seems a little too easy.”
“Exactly!” Ishaan slapped the counter for emphasis. “Also, I don’t want to have sex with random women. Or see these dickhead’s tiny dicks.”
Virat snorted.
“I don’t!” Ishaan insisted. “Not with them! And not with women who are being forced into – “ He looked queasy at the very thought. “Guys, I know this whole infiltrating their group thing was my idea but I don’t want to be ‘initiated’ into their group.” He did the whole air quotes around initiated like a juvenile delinquent.
“Relax.” Virat thumped him on his back. “Your virtue is safe. There is no way they’ll let you in so easily. They’re testing you.”
“Okay.” Ishaan looked at him seriously. “What if I fail?”
“You’re the school topper,” Amay grinned. “How can you fail?”
“I don’t even have my trophy anymore,” Ishaan said mournfully with a pointed, venomous glare at Amay who just grinned wider.
“My team spoke to the girl, Nisha, from the picture,” Virat said thoughtfully, his words dousing their banter like a bucket of ice water on a bonfire. “She’s terrified, won’t say a word to anyone. Almost started crying as she begged them to go away and let her live in peace.”
“Whatever is happening,” Ishaan said grimly. “It’s not consensual.”
“No, it’s not.” Amay agreed, anger darkening his face. “We need to stop it and quickly.”
“They’re probably looking for some sign of loyalty from you,” Virat said thoughtfully, his gaze on Ishaan.
“I’m not having sex with –“
“Of course you’re not, idiot,” Virat sighed. “They probably need you to betray us or something.”
“Okay.” Ishaan looked at the two of them. “How do I do that?”
“So ready to turn on us,” Amay said, grinning.
“We’ll mic you,” Virat said, pulling his phone closer to summon his team.
“No,” Ishaan interrupted. “Let’s not run that risk, not tonight when they’re already looking for a reason to distrust me. We’ll keep that for Alibaug, if I get in there.”
“You have to,” Virat said grimly. “We need the information they’re guarding so closely. Look for their weak link.”
“Parash,” Amay and Ishaan said together. “He always was a weak minded asshole, even at school.”
“I don’t remember him ever doing anything himself,” Virat mused. “He always stood around giggling while the others acted like dicks.”
“His wife wanted to get in my pants,” Ishaan muttered.
“And there’s your weak link,” Amay pointed out. “Get in there, bro.”
“No, thanks bro. Yukhi wouldn’t like it.”
“Yukhi?” Virat and Amay asked together. “Yukhi??”
Ishaan flushed a bright red, his cheeks flaming to make him look like a tomato. “I mean, you know, we are supposedly engaged to be married.”
“Yes, and the DD’s are famed for their fidelity,” Amay said dryly.
“Is this turning real, Ish,” Virat asked, amusement colouring his voice. “Are you, the infamous Ishaan Adajania, falling in love?”
“I don’t love her!” he protested, panic swimming through him. “I hate her.”
“Sure you do.” Amay was grinning like a loon, all thoughts of his precious hospital forgotten.
“I hate you guys too,” Ishaan muttered, feeling like his head would just explode like a volcano.
Amay burst out laughing, tears leaking out of his eyes. “I can’t wait to tell Dhriths about this.”
“Bet she already knows,” Virat said wisely, his laughing eyes on Ishaan’s fiery red face. “Talk to Mayukhi. She’ll understand why you need to play Parash’s wife. I doubt she’ll make a fuss.”
No, she wouldn’t, Ishaan thought mutinously. But he kind of wanted her to, dammit.