Chapter Eight #2
Krish rubbed his finger alongside his nose and stared straight ahead at the peeling poster on the wall of the Greyhound station.
This is going to be a mess. You don’t know what you’re doing. You are in way over your head. You are not your family.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t have a choice. They had no car, no phones, no money now that he’d bought their tickets. Plus,
there was the matter of Viktor pursuing them.
The man Sejal’s ex had sent had been rough with her, shoving her into the car. It was the callous behavior of a criminal who
didn’t care whether she lived or died. When Krish had gotten a look in the other man’s eyes, through shattered glass, a shard
of ice had run down his spine. That guy was a killer.
You know what Cobra is like. Is it really a surprise that Sejal was involved with another crime family?
No. In fact, references to that affiliation were in the notes his brother had left on Sejal. Krish hadn’t thought someone
she dated so many years ago would still be a problem. At least not at the exact same time he needed her.
You mean need to use her.
Krish rubbed the back of his neck. He’d been so single-minded until now that he’d managed to bury the doubts in his conscience.
He felt like he’d been swimming doggedly underwater for weeks, and someone had just yanked his head above water . . . only
for him to see he was swimming in an endless ocean with no land in sight.
He’d been confident enough—or rather, hyper-focused on his brother enough—that he could keep a rich asshole off their backs,
but someone with connections? That was a different story. Who knew what this guy was capable of? Shouldn’t Sejal be with someone
who could actually protect her? Maybe even the real FBI? Instead of him, a fake FBI agent?
You protected her fine back at that diner. Stay the course. You’re over halfway there, and once you’ve gotten your brother
back, maybe her dear sweet powerful auntie will step in to take care of Alexei and Viktor.
Yes, and then they’d all sing “kumbaya” together. These are murderers, dummy. Did the ends justify the means in this situation? Was he ready to save his brother at any cost, even at the cost of this woman?
“Hope you’re hungry.”
Krish jerked to attention and sat up straight. He hadn’t even registered Sejal’s approach. That kind of inattention wasn’t good for someone who had pissed off a career criminal less than two hours ago.
See, more proof that you won’t be able to protect her.
She dropped down into the seat next to him. There was dirt on her sleeve, maybe from her dive onto the floor of their rental
car. She’d found a rubber band somewhere and used it to pull back her hair. The strands were so short, they only made a spiky
ponytail. She’d zipped up the hoodie, and between that and the sweatpants she still wore, she looked like a college student.
“You’re back quick.”
She cast him an odd look. “Our bus is leaving soon, right?”
Out of habit, he reached for his phone to check the time, but of course his pocket was empty. He glanced at the big clock
on the wall instead. “Right.” He cleared his throat, pulling the tattered edges of his composure around him. He couldn’t let
her see the cracks, not right now. Whatever internal dilemma he was wrestling, he had to work through it before he made any
further decisions. “What flavor of Cheetos are we having now?”
She pulled a bowl out of the plastic shopping bag with a flourish. “Voilà. A chicken Caesar salad for you.”
Krish stared at the bowl, his mouth salivating. It was a cheap salad. But the greens looked fresh and crisp, and the chicken
looked like chicken. He accepted it, along with the plastic fork she handed him. “You got me a salad?”
“It seemed like you really wanted one. And the one at the diner looked gross.”
“Thank you. That’s . . . thoughtful of you.” The floodgates of his emotions had opened, because that was definitely guilt
creeping down his spine.
She hunched her shoulders. “Don’t get used to it,” she said gruffly. “Consider it thanks for saving my life.”
He took a bite of the veggies. They were unadulterated by anything too artificial, and that was all he cared about. “My gut biome appreciates it.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Okay, Harvard.”
He took another bite. “Why do you call me that?”
“Harvard?”
“Yes.”
“Because you seem kind of . . .” She hesitated. “Buttoned-up and proper.”
He resisted the urge to straighten up. He’d heard that before, often from his own brother and friends. Buttoned-up was kinder than uptight. Could he help that he found solace in rules and regulations?
“And you have this kind of fancy aura. Like you grew up in an appetizers and drinks family.”
That was new. “What do you mean by that?”
“Like when you went out to eat, your family ordered appetizers and drinks.”
That was what qualified for Ivy League attitude? “Interesting.”
Sejal waved her hand around the waiting room. “Or like you’ve never so much as taken a bus.”
He couldn’t refute her first assumption about him, but he could certainly refute the second. “I’ve definitely taken a bus
before.”
“To and from Harvard?”
Well, yes, but he wasn’t going to admit that. “The summer after I graduated high school, I traveled across the country by
bus.”
She raised her eyebrows, and now he did sit up a little straighter. Not that he was trying to impress her, but he did enjoy
surprising her more than he thought he would. Fit that into your rigid view of me and see if it makes sense.
And maybe you’ll be as confused as I am.
“Where did you go?”
“All over. Niagara Falls, New Orleans, and then back west to stand in the Pacific Ocean.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes. I felt . . .” It had been the first time in his life he hadn’t felt the shackle of responsibility or the pressure to
succeed and live up to the expectations his mother had for him. He’d been able to do whatever he wanted. The trip hadn’t lasted
long, but he would always remember those three months fondly. “Free. For a whole three months, until I had to go back to school.”
“Did you want to go to college?”
“Yes. I liked school. Did you?”
“Nerd. No. I hated it. Hated sitting still, hated testing, hated teachers being mad at me for being bad at those first two
things.”
“What did you do after high school, then?”
“After my dad kicked me out of the house?”
He paused in eating. “Did he? Why?”
“Because I wouldn’t rob a bank with him and I threatened to turn him in if he did.”
Krish was glad he’d stopped eating, because he would have choked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah.” She fiddled with the empty plastic bag in her lap. “He was a piece of work.”
“Who even robs banks in this day and age?” And who did it with their seventeen- or eighteen-year-old kid?
A Chaudhary, that’s who.
“Robbing banks isn’t about shooting them up with guns and masks anymore.
Now it’s keyloggers and hacking. He wanted to drain an account or two of someone who’d crossed him.
” Sejal paused. “Now that I think about it, those accounts may have belonged to my mom. Of course, I didn’t know she was still alive then.
Anyway, I refused to help with his plan, and he was livid that I was finally standing up to him.
He was used to me helping with whatever he wanted. ”
Sejal was being uncharacteristically chatty, so Krish held his breath when he asked the next question. “Why did you say no?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Up until then, it was small-time scams. Kind of fun, if I didn’t think too hard about it. But my sister
was like fourteen, and if we got caught I’d get tried as an adult, and she’d be left with no one to take care of her. So I
said no, and he kicked me out. I guess, either way, Mira was left with no one to take care of her. In the beginning, he didn’t
let me talk to her. After a while, though, I kind of liked not thinking about her.
“It was nice,” she added, her voice dropping, “to not have to worry about someone else for a change.”
Ah. Elder sibling sense of responsibility. He knew it well. “You didn’t go back?”
“No. I’ve only seen my sister a few times since then. They were not happy reunions.” Sejal looked away. “It’s no big deal.”
It sounded like a very big deal.
“Anyway, that’s when I learned a lot about busking. My dad had done some cup-and-ball stuff, taught me on a street corner.
I’d picked up card magic on my own, watching videos, hanging around casinos when he went to gamble. I’d sneak into shows.”
She smiled, like she wasn’t making Krish feel terrible for a gangly, abandoned child. “So my aunt floated me some cash, and
I also got on a bus. Traveled around, took up space on street corners. I loved that time.” Her smile faded. “Until I met Alexei.”
He was silent for a beat. He wanted to ask her about Alexei, but he could tell by her grim face she would shut down.
“Maybe we crossed paths, when we were both traveling around the country.” What would that have looked like?
If a young him and a young her had sat next to each other on a bus somewhere in America?
What could they have been to each other?
She cleared her throat. “Doubt it. You’re so much older than me.”
Well, it looked like her moment of vulnerability was over. “Again, I am younger than—”
“I wish we’d had enough money for a change of clothes. A disguise would be handy, in case Viktor finds the car.” Her words
were spoken in a rush, an obvious bid to change the subject.
“I have a disguise.” He tugged on the brim of his baseball hat.
“I don’t know who told you that that’s a good disguise, but a baseball cap just makes you look like a cop at a ball game.”
“I thought you said I didn’t seem like a cop.” For good reason.
“You did fool me,” she admitted. “But maybe the Harvard vibe you give off is a fed vibe.”
“That could be it.” He was about to inhale the final bites of the salad when he realized that she wasn’t eating anything.
“Where’s your food?”
“Oh.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small packet of M&M’s.
He checked the price on the lid of the salad. It was about a dollar shy of the ten he’d handed to her. “Did you spend it all
on my food?”
Sejal rolled her eyes. “Don’t say it like that. Like I’m some kind of nice person.”
He pointed to his salad. “I hate to break this to you, but this is nice-person behavior.” Trust me, I also hate it. Why can’t you just be a one-dimensional pawn?
“As I said, it was a thank-you. That’s all.”
He offered it to her. “Eat the last couple bites.”
“I’m good.”
“Come on. It’ll be late before we stop again, and unless you have money in your shoe, we won’t be able to get much more.”
She took the bowl from him. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
Appetizers and drinks. “What did your family order?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you think I come from an appetizers and drinks family, what kind of family did you come from?”
Her smile was humorless. “We didn’t really do family dinners, unless my aunt was in town. She took Mira and me out to eat,
and yes, then we got whatever we wanted. But if it was my dad, he thought paying for any luxury was a scam. Unless we were
on someone else’s dime, in which case the sky was the limit.”
Do not feel bad for her. Do not feel bad for her. This could all be a part of an elaborate manipulation attempt.
Though . . . he doubted it. He might not be an FBI agent, but he had his own instincts.
“Bus 442 to Glenrock is now boarding,” the announcer blared on the overhead speaker.
Krish looked up. “That’s us.”
“And where’s Glenrock, exactly?”
“In Wyoming.”
“Never been.”
“You’re not missing much.” He stooped and picked up his duffel. The gun inside it made it heavier.
“That one of the places you traveled to on your cross-country travels?”
“No. I’ve only been there once before. Come on, let’s go.”
She hurried to catch up, so he slowed down his steps so she could walk normally.
He hoisted his duffel higher as they neared the bus.
They could call this right now. His brother might have told him not to contact the Bureau, that they couldn’t be trusted, but surely Krish could find someone who could help Sejal?
He could leave her right here, maybe refund her ticket to go someplace else.
He could find some other way to get to the head of Cobra.
“You’ve only been there once, but you have a place to go there? Is it FBI? Yours?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Sejal looked like she wanted to ask more questions, but the bus driver came out, and Krish set his shoulders. There was no
other way. It was too late. He was in over his head, and she was there with him. At least until he figured out something else.
Because one thing was unchanged since this morning: Sejal remained his only lead, and his brother was still missing. And no
one would help him but Krish.