Fresh dew sitting on the edge of grass scrunched beneath Khusi shoes as she hastily strode on the downway road of the town, Yuti's fingers clenched tightly around her fist, the meager street lights barely illuminating their way.
"Miss slow down! I can't run so fast," Yuti huffed, breathing loudly, trying to catch up with Khusi's pace. But Khusi's mind was somewhere else entirely.
The marks on David's arms and neck didn't sit well with Khusi. Those kinds of marks couldn't come just from falling down. They were fingerprints.
Khusi shivered as Nitin Joshi's gaze flashed behind Khusi's eyes. They were malicious, cold and vicious, especially the way he was glaring at David when the little boy was talking to Khusi and Yuti.
"Miss!" Yuti yelled, unable to run anymore and stopped, making Khusi's steps halt.
"Yuti, we need to go home. Now!" For some reason, Khusi was petrified. If the scenario was what Khusi was assuming, David was facing hell in his home.
"But why miss? You practically dragged me out of there. Why are you behaving like this?" Khusi brushed her hands over Yuti's head, tongue tied. What would she say to a 6 year old girl? That her friend was probably getting molested at his home.
She licked her lips and sighed heavily, the lump in her throat too painful. "Nothing Yuti. It's already late. I don't want your father to imprison me, that's why we're going home. Now." Khusi tried to cheer Yuti up, but she was too smart for a 6 year old.
"He wouldn't dare to touch you, as long as I am alive. And don't try to hide things from me. Something definitely happened between you and Nitin uncle during our absence, didn't it?"
Khusi's eyes widened at Yuti's words but she didn't let trepidation sit on her face for long.
"No Yuti. Nothing happened. Let's go now."
Khusi gently grasped her hands again but by the look on Yuti's face, it was sure she wasn't convinced.
• • •
Khusi ducked her head, sitting on her knees behind Yuti's house. There were at least 5 cops standing near the front gate, with her father, Abhay Mathur, who was literally roaring.
"You had one job, assholes. One job! You can't even control a small girl. How useless are you two, huh!?"
The guards shivered at his tone, their body visibly shaking, with their heads down. Abhay was looking like a burning ball of rage.
"Okay, take the same route through which you entered and try to be as discreet as possible, okay? You papa couldn't know that we went to David's house, or he will kill me for dragging you into this mess," Khusi exhorted, gently pushing Yuti towards the back door.
"Don't worry, miss. He wouldn't succeed in bringing a single word out of my stomach." Yuti silently unlatched the lock of the door and went inside, waving Khusi a bye.
The moment Khusi stood up and stepped backwards, trying to make as less noise as possible, her foot slipped and she fell down on the ground with a loud thud, a screech escaping her throat.
"Miss!?" Yuti ran out, her voice echoing in the whole neighbourhood as Khusi tried to hush her, rubbing her butts.
"Hands up." Before Khusi could recover from the pain of her fall, sharp rays of flashlights fell on her face and a harsh command rang around her.
Khusi's eyes widened and she put her hands up in surrender, her voice wavering in fear. "Don't shoot. Don't shoot."
Abhay quickly strode towards the two, unable to decipher the person in dark. But the voice sounded familiar.
YOU ARE READING
Not Her
Romance"I don't want to become a mother." This line is a taboo for women in some parts of the world, and so was for Khusi Mukherjee. At the age of 25, independent and single, she wanted to live her life according to her rules. But everything changed when...
