She gasped as the cold, metallic edge of a blade pressed against her throat, and her hand instinctively clutched her stomach. Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a deafening boom. The thunder roared like a war cry from the sky. He stood before her, soaked in the rain, wild-eyed, and completely deranged.
This couldn’t be the end. Not here. Not like this.
Do something Mahika!her brain screamed.
Like a taut string, something snapped inside her. If she had to go, she would go fighting. With a defiant roar, she mustered the last reserves of her strength and drove her knee into his groin. A strangled, guttural scream tore from his throat as he doubled over, clutching himself in pain.
She sprang into action, moving on pure instinct. She whirled around and ran, the icy rain stinging her skin, and the tears blurring her vision. Her sobs were ragged and raw, her cries desperate, piercing through the air, hoping someone would hear her… hoping someone would care. The darkness stretched around her like a cold, inescapable trap.
Her dress clung to her in soaked shreds, the fabric heavy and cold, her sandals lost somewhere behind. Her feet were bruised and bleeding, leaving a trail of blood on the ground. Still, she ran, the wind whipping through her hair, driven by sheer will.
And then she saw them. Headlights.
A breath of hope burst through her lungs like a cool spring breeze. She pushed herself harder until she stumbled further onto the cracked asphalt of the road, and threw her aching body towards the approaching car. With a horrifyingscreech of brakes and tearing metal, she landed on the hood like a crumpled, rain-soaked leaf, utterly limp.
With a loud crash, the car door flew open, and then she heard it… a low, guttural growl. And that familiar voice… the one she had longed to hear, the only sound that ever felt like a balm to her weary soul. It shook with dread, as if it were shaken to its very core. But never before had she heard it so raw, so full of fear.
“Momo!
44
Few hours before
Vikram stared at the message he had sent Mahika hours ago. She had read it, but the only response he got back was a half-typed reply: “I’m with K...”
And then, nothing.
That message had come more than twenty minutes ago, and there was nothing after that. A knot of unease twisted in his chest. Mahika always replied. Always. Even if it was just a quick thumbs-up or a curt ‘Okay.’ She never ignored him. Never left him hanging like this.
It was early evening, and the sky was awash in hues of orange and purple. He and Mohit had finished their word and were finally wrapping up for the day. Knowing he would be late, he’d told Mahika to leave with Max without waiting for him. But she hadn’t even told him whether she was leaving or staying.
“What’s going on?” Mohit asked, his voice rough with fatigue as he noticed Vikram staring at his phone for the umpteenth time in just a few minutes.
“Mahika hasn’t replied yet,” Vikram said, trying to sound calm but failing miserably. He could hear the tension in his own voice.
“She probably went home and crashed on the couch or something,” Mohit replied with a shrug.
“It’s been more than thirty minutes since that weird half-typed message. She hasn’t been online since,” Vikram muttered, his eyes glued to the screen. He felt ridiculous, like a heartbroken teenager who had just been ghosted by his crush.
Mohit studied him for a moment before saying, “You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?” His tone was calm but certain.
“What?” Vikram scoffed, pretending not to understand. “No. I just like her.”
“Don’t lie to me, you fucker,” Mohit said. “It’s written all over your face. I’ve known you for too long.”
Vikram let out a heavy sigh and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, man…”
Mohit’s expression softened, his voice turning serious. “Just… don’t hurt her, okay? Please. She’s been through enough already.”
Vikram met his friend’s eyes, letting him see exactly how serious he was. “I’m doing everything I can not to.”
“Good. So… have you told her?”
“Told her what?”
Mohit rolled his eyes. “God. For a man who runs half the country’s hospitality business, you’re incredibly dense. Have you told her how you feel?”
Vikram groaned. “I can’t believe you’re pushing this.”