Chapter 24
TANISHA
“Tanisha Bakshi, welcome to your bachelorette!” Rehan crowed, standing in front of his Thar, a pink sash in one hand and a glittering tiara in the other.
She stood on the side of the dark, deserted highway, staring disbelievingly at the sight in front of her.
Her siblings and friends lined the side of the road, laughing, chattering, popping bottles of champagne but it wasn’t the motley group that had her gaping.
It was the line of bikes, polished and ready, that stood behind them.
Drag racing at midnight…Nobody other than Rehan could have picked that as a theme for a bachelorette.
Tani’s heart lightened as she took in the scene, the chill winter breeze lifting her curls as they lay in a tangled, mess around her shoulders. The heady roar of the superbike’s engine had music singing through her veins.
“Here you go,” Rehan said, approaching with the smug pride of someone who believed he’d planned this moment with military precision. He slipped the sash over her head with a dramatic ta-da flourish.
Tani smoothed it down, smiling, until her eyes hit the lettering on the sash. Her smile evaporated.
“Rehan?”
“Yeah?” He was practically vibrating with excitement.
She pointed at the sash. “Why does this say Bribe to Be?”
Rehan froze. “What?”
“Bribe,” she repeated, tapping the word and stressing on the last syllable.
His face crumpled. “No, no, no…what? That’s supposed to say Bride to Be!”
“Well it doesn’t.” She looked down again. “It says Bribe to Be. As in, someone has to be paid to marry me.”
Rehan grabbed the sash, horrified. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”
Tani burst into laughter, loud, unrestrained, tears-streaming-down-her-face laughter.
“Rehan, I love you, but between this and your GPA, I’m concerned for your future children.”
He groaned. “Bloody autocorrect!”
“Clearly a mistake,” she gasped, still laughing. “Next time, ask them to spell-check. Or at least make sure I’m not wearing a sash that suggests Jay is illegally buying me.”
Rehan threw his hands up. “It was supposed to be CUTE!”
“It is,” she said, wiping tears. “Adorable.”
He sulked. “I tried.”
“And I appreciate it,” she said, hugging him with one arm.
Rehan muttered, “I hate this family.”
She grinned. “Don’t worry. When Jay sees this, he’ll probably demand a refund.”
One of their friends revved a bike. “Are we racing or no?” he asked, grinning at Rehan.
“Oh we’re racing.” Rehan swaggered over. “Why don’t you let me show you how it’s done?”
Vikram grabbed the edge of Rehan’s shirt, frowning. “Are you sure about this?”
“Vik come on yaar!” Rehan shoved his hand off. “Have you forgotten how to have fun? When did you turn into this grumpy old asshole?”
Vikram looked at Tani who shrugged, sipping her champagne. “He’s got good control. And he hasn’t had a drink as yet.”
Sighing, Vikram stepped back to stand beside Tani. “This is not a good idea,” he muttered.
“It’s just a little bit of fun,” Tani said, wrapping her arm around his waist. “And he is a good rider.”
One of the girls stepped forward to stand between the two bikes, a red scarf held up in one hand. The engines revved, the crowd cheered, and a second later, the scarf dropped, the bikes whooshing past in a blur of movement and sound.
Tani watched until they were out of sight before turning to talk to a friend who’d come up to hug and congratulate her.
Kimi dragged an uncomfortable looking Vedika over to join the conversation and they automatically began discussing the wedding.
The winter wind was bitingly cold and she was grateful for the jeans and hoodie she’d worn though it was hardly bride to be fashion.
It was perfect for a bribe to be though, she thought with a grin.
“Are you going to miss New York, Tani?” Vedika asked in her soft, sweet voice.
An image of a picnic in Central Park flashed through her mind, one of her favourite memories.
She’d sat there reading a book, a salad in her lap as Kabir slept on the picnic blanket, snoring loudly enough to chase away humans and animals alike.
Pain pinched her heart but she forced herself to breathe through it.
In time, it would all fade. Every last second of it.
A few minutes later, she heard the sound of the bikes returning and she turned to look. Her heart calmed as she caught sight of Rehan safe and sound. She downed the rest of her champagne as she watched her brother try to overtake the other guy but he ended up coming second by a whisker.
The guy who’d won was pumped and intent on screaming about it from the rooftops. He was someone Vikram had gone to college with, not the closest of friends but close enough.
“Can you believe Karam Bakshi’s son lost to me?” He shouted, ignoring the darkening expression on Rehan’s face. “Dude, your dad is a legend on the racing circuit and you couldn’t even win this piddly shit? The apple did fall far from the tree, huh?”
Rehan swung his leg off the bike, straightening with an angry glower. Advik grabbed him from behind, murmuring something.
“Cut it out Ritvik,” Vikram called, his tone silencing the other guy.
“Well,” Rehan said with forced joviality. “Who’s next? Who wants to challenge the winner?”
“I do.” Tani stepped forward, handing her glass to Vedika who almost dropped it in shock. “Why don’t we see what Karam Bakshi’s daughter can do?”
Ritvik’s smile sharpened. “Chalo Dulhanji. Let’s see that also.”
Tani handed her sash and tiara to Rehan. He glanced at the pink, satiny fabric in his hands and the glittering stones of the tiara. “Is this your version of ‘hold my beer’?’
“You bet.” She sauntered over to where the bike was parked.
Rehan shrugged and slipped the sash over his head, planting the tiara precariously in his wild, windswept hair before following her.
Tani took the helmet from Rehan, strapped it on, forcing her unruly curls to stay put and out of the way. And then she gripped the handlebars as she climbed on to the bike, her thighs clinging to its side, and her heart almost taking flight from the joy of climbing on to a Harley after so long.
Jay strongly disapproved of her riding bikes, though she’d ridden, raced, and won more than her share of trophies over the years in New York.
And so she’d swapped out the bikes for public transport or cabs.
Which is why him riding to the farm to please her father had meant so much to her…
He was good, she told herself, revving her engine, the deep, throaty purr seeming to reverberate under her skin.
He was a good man. And then she flipped the visor of her helmet down, forgot all about him and gave herself over to the pleasure of being one with the machine.
They took off in a roar of noise that didn’t penetrate the cocoon of happiness that encased her. She rode for the sheer pleasure of the moment, for the power of the beast that hummed between her thighs, and for the chance to be herself, to be Tani, and no one and nothing else again.
She pulled out, far ahead of her opponent, taking the turn at the other end of the race, low and heavy against the road, the race marker almost skimming her cheek.
And then she was on her way back, the home stretch.
Her opponent was just about reaching the marker.
She had this one in the bag. Confidence burned through her veins as she whooped, a loud, exultant sound, streaking past the finish line and coming to a halt in a flashy sweep of her tires.
“Alright then!” She could see Advik, Vikram and Rehaan fighting smiles as Ritvik limped into second place. Kimi was bouncing on her toes, Vedika beside her looking like she was going to faint.
Tani pulled off her helmet, threw back her head, let the freezing wind tickle her curls, and smiled up to the heavens. Now, this was life. Her life.
That’s when she heard it. A faint sound, growing audibly louder and clearer with every second.
Oh fuck she thought, as the siren screamed and lights flashed, the stripes of colour lining her face like something out of a horror move.
The police patrol car came to a rolling halt before her, doors opening to eject two angry cops.
“Oh fuck!” she whispered aloud this time. “Dad is going to kill me.”
“Us,” Rehaan corrected grimly, coming to stand beside her.
“Your father might grant you a quick death,” Vikram muttered. “Mine will bury me alive.”
“Please,” Advik snapped. “That’s nothing compared to what my dad will do to me.”
“What?” Tani asked, her throat dry, her pulse pounding in her throat.
“He’ll be disappointed. And, then, he’ll sit me down to talk to me about any unhealed trauma from my past. Before,” he adds darkly, “launching into a speech on responsibility and a strong moral code of conduct being the pillars of life.”
“Okay,” Tani said, as the cops walked towards them. “You win.” She swung her leg over the bike and stepped forward, conscious of Vikram mirroring her move.
“Who is responsible for this? Who organised it?” The moustachioed cop in the front glared at them. “Chalo, naam batao.”
Before any of the others could open their mouths, Tani spoke, “Me. Tanisha Bakshi. It was all me.”