“On the contrary, she’s not exactlyyourtype.” His mom leaned against the desk that stood in the middle of the room. The only light in the room came from the desk lamp and the blue glow of the monitors.
What type? Dating in a big city full of professionals meant an endless merry-go-round of first dates and occasional hookups, leading to burnout and long breaks. He’d only had two serious girlfriends in his life, and one had been in college. Both of those relationships had felt shallow, like they were missing something, or like sleepovers for two people with separate lives. “I don’t quite understand what you’re saying.”
“Your last girlfriend had a Peabody Award, Krishna. This girl does not look... like she has a Peabody, let’s say.”
Oh. His mother was being elitist. Yes, she could be like that. Is this how he came off to Sejal? Was that why she called him Harvard?
Krish tapped his foot. This was a waste of time. He hated that he’d left Sejal alone with Patrick to grab some food while he’d been shoved into this small room. Who knew what Sejal would say to his stepfather.
Luckily, Patrick didn’t know how to interrogate someone like his mom did. “I don’t care about someone’s educational status. You do.”
His mother sat in the imposing leather chair behind her equally imposing desk and steepled her fingers together. “Don’t try to make me feel uncomfortable. Why are you with that girl?”
Stop calling her “that girl.”He controlled the odd knee-jerk offense he’d taken. He wasn’t really dating Sejal. She was his prisoner at worst, his reluctant companion at best. There was no need to feel insulted on her behalf.
In hindsight, he realized that he should have said Sejal was his friend. But he’d made a split-second decision on the assumption that his mother would be less likely to believe that he was upending his life for a friend. Aarthi was unconventional as far as Desi moms went, but one thing she was consistent about was marriage and kids. She’d been haranguing him and Avi about having families since the minute they’d hit thirty. Maybe she’d be so distracted by him having a girlfriend that she’d be diverted from the real reason he was on this journey?
His mom couldn’t know about Avi and Cobra.
Please, Sejal, do not let your ties to Cobra somehow slip out while talking with Patrick.
“It doesn’t matter what you think.”
Aarthi surveyed him, not missing a thing. She’d had that flannel shirt for as long as he could remember. His mother had been into sustainability long before it was trendy. There were more lines in her face now, and more gray in her hair, than when he’d seen her last, but she looked about as sharp and spry as ever. “You certainly look like you’ve been through it. No car, one small bag. I worried the girl had kidnapped you, until I saw you were holding the gun.”
Yes, it’s kind of the opposite situation.
“I need to know what’s going on.”
She had a right to know some of it. But what part of it, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t tell her about his brother. In the letter he’d left, Avi had specifically told him not to get their mother involved, and Krish might have ignored that, except that he knew she wouldn’t help him. Hell, she’d do anything in her power to stop him.
But at the same time, he couldn’t leave Aarthi in total darkness. The woman was never not on guard, but she’d take extra precautions if she knew someone dangerous and powerful was after them. It wasn’t fair to not give her a heads-up, not if Alexei somehow tracked them here despite all their evasive maneuvers.
As if reading his mind, Aarthi spoke. “Does this have something to do with your brother? What did he do now?”
“He didn’t do anything.” Krish knew the next words were unwise, but he couldn’t help but utter them. “He’s never done anything.”
Aarthi closed her eyes, and the elevens between her eyebrows creased. “Krishna...”
“Avi is innocent. He was framed.” After Peter had shown up at his door and explained why the FBI was looking for Avi, Krish had called his mother, expecting her to share his dismay and disbelief over the accusations hanging over his brother’s head.
She had been eerily calm, and not the slightest bit surprised. On the contrary, she’d been all too willing to believe that her son had skipped town like a coward rather than face his punishment for corruption.
“Avi took money from criminals to use FBI databases to feed them information on active investigations. He took money from actual murderers and thieves to look the other way, and direct the agency to look the other way, when they were doing their dirty work.”
Krish crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s not true.”
“People probably died from his actions, Krish. Innocents.”
“That’s how I know he couldn’t have done it. Avi cares about the law as much as you do. I told you, he left me a letter.”
Aarthi raised a fine eyebrow. “Ah, yes. The letter.”
“I can show you—”
“I don’t need to see any letter from Avi proclaiming his innocence when I had to sit through his own partner showing me proof—cold, hard proof—of my son’s wrongdoing.” Aarthi slapped her hand on the desk. “Your brother looked me in the eyes and lied more times than I can count when he was young. Always rebelling. Why did I think that would change when he was older? ‘Where did you get that car, Avi? How could you afford such a big house, Avi?’” She deepened her voice. “‘Don’t worry, Mama, I just invest well.’ Hah. He can stay on whatever island he’s run off to.”
Krish rubbed the back of his neck. Yes, Avi had been mischievous when he was younger, but those had been small childish offenses. Sneaking in after curfew didn’t translate to accepting bribes and corruption.
