Page 107 of Entangled Vows
“What the fuck,” she breathed as panic crept in.
How was she going to contact anyone if her phone was not working?
She raised the phone higher, waving it towards the window, trying to see if any network bars would appear, but still nothing happened. She tried angling it in different directions, but it was of no use. A surge of nerves shot through her as she considered her next move. She was used to being independent, but nothing like this had ever happened before. It seemed like she would have to get out and check what was wrong with the car.
Just as she reached for the door handle, ready to step out, a low rumble of the engine made her freeze. She quickly shut the door, abandoning the thought of getting out. Her stomach knotted at what she saw.
Headlights glowed in her rearview mirror. Two bikes came into view. Then a third. The engines roared louder as they closed in, tires crunching over the gravel.
There were six men in total, and none of them wore helmets. Instead, they had black fabric wrapped loosely around their faces, partially concealing their features. Mahika’s heart beat loudly as she took in the scene before her. Their bikes had no license plates. As they drew closer, they looked like dark shadows in hoodies and worn jeans, the occasional flash of metal glinting from somewhere on their bodies.
Shit, Mahika cursed inwardly. She wasn’t easily scared, but right now, she was sick, exhausted, and alone on this isolated road.
Slowly, the fear was taking over her courage.
In that moment, she regretted not taking those Krav Maga classes seriously. Still, even if she had, facing six men wasn’t something she could handle, trained or not.
The men came to a stop just behind her car and got off their bikes one by one. For one chilling second, there was silence. Then came their laughter and comments, which were a cruel mix of crude and foul language.
She kept her face blank, even as panic spread through her veins. She tried to calm herself a little, which was nearly impossible right now. She reached into her bag, her fingers desperately searching for the pepper spray, only for her to freeze.
Her stomach dropped at the horrible realisation that she had switched purses this morning and had forgotten to transfer it. It wasn’t there.
Fuck!! How could she be so stupid? Now what was she supposed to do?
She was all alone, stranded in the dark, on a deserted road with no mobile network, a dead car, and six masked men approaching her.
This felt like the beginning of a nightmare.
She made sure all the windows were rolled up and quickly pressed the auto-lock button. Her hands trembled, and she kept her face slightly turned away from the window, trying to appear busy on her phone, but her eyes were alert, flicking everywhere, watching their every move.
Her fear grew tenfold when they surrounded her car in a circle. One of the men crouched near the hood, and another banged his hand hard against the passenger side window, making her flinch. A third man ran his fingers across the driver-side window like he was tracing his target. Then came a sharp bang on her car door.
“Car trouble, madam ji?” one of them asked, pressing his masked face against the glass.
Another shone a flashlight directly into her eyes. She quickly turned her face away, shielding her eyes with her hand.
A palm slammed against the glass again, louder this time, and her body jerked from the impact. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but her stomach twisted as her trembling fingers dropped the phone into her lap.
“Kya hua, jaaneman? (What happened, darling?)” A voice called out from outside. “Don’t be scared. We’ll take care of everything for you.”
One of them leaned on the hood and made a lewd gesture with his tongue, and then he grabbed and squeezed himself.
Mahika turned away, sickened to her core. Bile swirled in her throat. She had heard horror stories about women stranded like this. Women who were never found. But never in her worst nightmares had she imagined she would feel that kind of fear crawl into her own bones.
But she would not give up.
Think, Mahika. Think.
She lunged for the glovebox and opened it to find a pen inside. A freaking pen. And a sunglasses case. She found a portable charger too. But nothing that could help her.
Holy hell… she was going to die today.
Her hands shook as she bent towards the floor and reached under the passenger seat. Her fingers touched cold metal. An umbrella with a thick wooden handle. She gripped it tightly and tucked it beside her thigh.
A scraping sound crawled along the side of the car. One of the men was dragging something metallic along the side of the car, the sound sending shivers down her spine. Then, the man closest to her door yanked the handle with a sudden jerk. The whole car rocked. Mahika gasped, her body stiff with terror.
“You’re really going to leave us standing here all night?” he said. “That’s not very polite.”
