The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Okay, “friend” was stretching it. Maybe tentative road trip companion. Possibly her captor. Or her bodyguard.
Sejal grabbed some Combos and added them to the basket she held, already filled to the brim with junk food. Krish had given her fifty bucks and the order to go get them some dinner while he filled their gas tank. She wondered if he’d ever shopped at a convenience store for dinner. She doubted it.
She was surprised that he’d let her go in here alone. On their previous stops, he’d accompanied her into the building, standing guard outside the restroom door while she did her business, hovering while she ordered food. She couldn’t tell if he was ensuring she didn’t run away or making sure no one bothered her. Probably both, but mostly the former.
He was clearly keeping something from her, and she didn’t know what it was, but she imagined it didn’t end well for her or her aunt. It didn’t matter what Krish’s endgame was, though, because she wasn’t planning on sticking around to find out. His whole speech about using her had struck a nerve. Sometimes thelesser evil was merely lesser, not ideal. FBI agents at least had a code of conduct. Alexei and his flunkies did not.
Well, a code of conduct and a gun. Handy, since guns had always terrified her, much to the dismay of her father.
She was good at stealing things and running, but she wasn’t a career criminal, as evidenced by how many people had tracked her down recently. As much as she hated law enforcement, it might be good to have someone trained in evasive maneuvers on her side.
The thought of a cop as her protection was galling, though, almost as galling as the fact that she’d caught herself eyeing his biceps in his too-tight long-sleeved shirt a few more times than comfortable while they drove for the last ten, mostly silent hours. He’d tried, a few times, to ask her questions about Alexei, but she’d shut him down, and he’d finally stopped talking.
This wasn’t the man she’d so willingly spilled her family secrets to when they’d first met. So she should stop looking at his muscles, damn it.
Her phone buzzed in her pants pocket, and she pulled it out. She hadn’t shared with Krish yet the fact that she had a phone. Let the cop think she was without any resources. That is, she was without most resources, but she did, at the very least, have her little burner.
There was only one number in it, Ken’s. She used to program three numbers into every phone, including Ken’s and her aunt’s, but her aunt’s was disconnected now. She knew that, because on her last birthday, when she’d been drunk, Sejal had tried calling it.
What do you mean, you’re not coming? Is everything okay? Best, Kenneth
All these years, and she still hadn’t broken Ken of his habit of signing texts.
She’d surreptitiously sent him a message at their last stop, since she knew he’d been waiting up for her. She replied back.
Everything’s fine! Change of plans, my employee went into early labor, so I have to stay here and work.
To hide how she was paying for Ken’s treatments and living expenses—he would not approve of probably stolen jewels from her aunt—she told him she’d opened a security firm. It was the kind of work that explained her money and ability to roam around at will.
Are you behaving?
Of course I am behaving. I am completely steakless, surviving on lettuce and tomatoes, like a rabbit. Best, Kenneth
She put the phone back in her pocket and moved to the next aisle, grabbing some crackers and Pringles. She didn’t love lying to Ken, but it was better for everyone if he believed she was safe and sound. Occasionally he forgot things and remembered them later and grew agitated. She worried too much about his health.
And what about your sister?
Mira was still fine. Alexei had known when he and Sejal were dating that the two sisters didn’t talk. He probably didn’t evenremember her name, and if he did, Mira was well insulated by her husband’s money and social status now.
You’re just like Dad.
Nearly two decades later, Mira’s accusation still stung. Sejal wasnotlike their dad, damn it. She wasn’t going to keep bringing trouble to her sister’s door.
Sejal approached the counter and deposited her basket on top of it. She glanced around and noted the camera above the register. She wished she hadn’t taken Krish’s sweatshirt off in the car, but while the man had given her radio control, he would not cede temperature control. She ran much hotter than him.
“Forty-one forty-two.”
She tossed a deck of cards from the display near the register on the counter and then tapped the lottery tickets under the glass. “Can I get that five-dollar scratcher?”
She tucked the change and the ticket in her jeans pocket. The doorbell jangled loudly, and Krish walked in.
Damn it. Why did he still look good, even after eleven hours of driving with only two measly stops and a sleepless night? Sure, there were bags under his too-pretty eyes, but his shoulders weren’t at all slumped from exhaustion.
He spotted her instantly. In any other scenario, she might have found his single-minded focus on her to be quite attractive, but not when he only cared about losing track of his bait.
Krish came to stand next to her. The slender high school kid behind the counter tensed as he looked up at him. Was he scared of Krish? She supposed her companion’s size and frown could be intimidating.
