His words, defending her. So silly to put so much stock in them, when she was leaving him and all his mysteries soon. Like she’d told herself already:
It.
Meant.
Nothing.
And neither did he.
Chapter Fourteen
You got this.
Krish was not as confident as Sejal was, especially after his mother had thrown a bomb of insecurity into his brain.
He glanced over at Sejal, asleep in the passenger seat, curled up in a ball. The morning sunlight draped over her like a cape, making her deep brown skin glow from within. He was glad she’d taken off that wig. Her hair was standing up from running her fingers through it.
She’d swapped her dress for a pair of joggers and his gray sweatshirt when they stopped at a rest area overnight. The soft cotton looked as good on her as the dress had. Though it was loose, it clung to all her curves.
Stop noticing her curves.
She’d been mostly quiet after they’d gotten in the car, but that was understandable. They’d driven through the night, switching off twice so they could both sleep. Funny how he’d trusted her to drive them now when he hadn’t just a couple of days ago.
A few days ago, you didn’t know her. She was a sack of potatoes to be traded, not a personyoukind of. . . like?
Why her? Why now, universe?
There were a billion other women in the world who he hadn’t planned on using to win his brother’s freedom. Why wasn’t he lusting after them?
Krish flexed his hands on the steering wheel. His eyes were burning from lack of sleep, despite his nap.
A car honked, and he jerked, ensuring that he was within the lane. The noise had disturbed Sejal, though. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her stretch, shoving her hair out of her eyes. “Where are we?” she said, her already deep voice rough.
“We’re close to Vegas.”
She uncurled her legs and sat up. “Sorry I slept so long. I told you to wake me up after an hour.”
He wished she’d snored, so he could find something to make her unattractive to him, but he bet he’d even find her snores cute. “You needed the sleep.”
“This car is really comfortable.”
It was also funny how he’d had to carefully examine her in the beginning, to figure out if she was lying, but he’d learned her tells so well, now he could hear something amiss in her voice. It carried an underlying tension that unnerved him.
“Better than the last wheels we had, for sure.” His mother had given them a tank, a big black Escalade. It wasn’t unobtrusive, but he definitely felt safer driving it than he did the small sedan he’d previously rented. He didn’t know where his mom had gotten this car from so quickly. Perhaps she’d paid someone all cash for it, or maybe she’d already had it in her garage.
He wasn’t worried that it could be traced back to Aarthi. She had more LLCs than the most crooked of businessmen.
Krish switched lanes to get around a slow-moving car. Aheadof them, the glamour and glitz of Las Vegas glinted in the sun, like a seedy spread of gold. “Can you tell me where we’re going, now that we’re here?”
She gestured to the phone in the cupholder between them. “I can look up the exact street address. May I?”
“Sure.” His mother had given him one phone when they left, which told him more than anything that she didn’t trust Sejal. There were probably about a dozen burners in her desk drawer.
Krish felt a little bad about the way things had ended between them. Sure, Aarthi had confronted Sejal, but had he really expected anything else? The reason his mom thought something was off about Sejal was because something was off. Though he hadn’t told his mother exactly what he was doing, he’d told her enough that she could come to the conclusion that he was utterly unqualified for this particular venture.
You are not your brother.No shit. Painful words now that he could think about them. At the time, he’d only been concerned about cutting his mother off before Sejal somehow overheard and learned about his impersonation.
Krish didn’t want to be his brother, but he’d spent his whole life being measured against the man and coming up short. He wasn’t as handsome, or as charming, or as fast, or as good with a gun or his fists. He didn’t have the right training, he hadn’t gotten the right job.
