by MV Kasi
CHAPTER 11
Gaurav strode angrily into his room. He had let his guard down around her and almost let her escape.
Damn her!
With angry movements, he shed his wet clothes, rubbed himself with a towel, and changed into a fresh pair of clothes. The places where she had scratched him on his arms and face stung. His head throbbed in pain where she hit him with a stone. Even his damn nose felt tender.
Nina Bhupati hadn’t tried to escape in the last two days when Vikram and Khan were around. But she attempted it today.
Did she think that because he had stopped Vikram from strangling her, he wasn’t dangerous? Did she feel a false sense of security with him, thinking he wasn’t capable of killing her?
She was wrong. Damn wrong.
He could easily kill her. Hell, he wanted to kill her and had every reason to justify the killing. And if he couldn’t do that—then he would break and destroy her soul.
He had waited long enough. He was going to begin the next phase of his plan. Grabbing the things he needed, he went up the stairs and opened the backdoor. “Khan!” he called.
“Sir?” There was a worried look in Khan’s eyes.
“We are initiating the next part of the plan.”
“But sir, you said we’d wait another week before—”
“I changed my mind.”
Khan looked like he wanted to argue, but he just nodded.
Gaurav went down again and unlocked the door to her room. For a moment, rage swirled in him when he didn’t find her on the bed or the chair. He was just about to explode, but then he saw her.
She was seated on the floor with her knees raised, leaning against the wall that separated his room from hers. She was sleeping.
His anger slowly died at the sight. With her long, damp hair and clothes, and her face devoid of any make-up, she looked small and helpless. Gaurav’s deeply-buried conscience tried to resurface along with a jolt of shame, making him clutch the handle of the bag harder. It even made him second guess his current plan, but then Sruthi’s innocent face appeared in his mind, urging him on.
Taking a deep breath, he walked towards his captive and stopped a foot away. “Get up,” he commanded.
She jerked awake at the sound of his voice, and when she saw him, her expression turned wary.
“Get on the bed,” he instructed.
There was a pause. “Why?”
“Never argue with me,” he warned softly. “If you want to come out of your captivity alive, then follow my orders.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but she kept quiet.
“Move.”
With visibly shaking legs, she slowly got up and went towards the bed and sat on a corner. He closed the shades on the window partially, making the room appear much dimmer.
He opened the small duffel bag he brought with him and took out a rope and some duct tape. He pulled both her hands behind her and used the rope to tie her. And then, using a knife, he ripped off a piece of duct tape.
She didn’t struggle when he stuck it across her mouth. In fact, her eyes still appeared wary, but there was no fear.
He needed fear.
He raised the knife in front of her and placed the tip at her throat. Even though her body stilled, her breathing remained normal.
Deliberately, he made a slow perusal of her body which was clearly visible in his wet shirt and trousers. The soft cotton fabric clung to her generous curves. His eyes swept to her face, her neck, her shoulders, and deliberately lingered on her chest.
He heard her breathing hitch slightly, getting heavier. Slowly, he moved the knife lower and cut off the top two buttons of the shirt before pushing the ends apart, exposing a generous portion of her shadowed cleavage.
Her eyes widened in fear, making her appear even more innocent and helpless. Her entire body began trembling, but she kept her eyes locked on his.
He noticed that despite her obvious fear, her eyes were dry with no hint of tears.
A sliver of regret passed through him for wanting to break someone like her. But he kept reminding himself of why he needed to do it.
A knock interrupted their staring. And immediately, his captive’s eyes flew to the door as though she was expecting a savior.
It was Khan. The older man entered the room and remained silent.
Gaurav didn’t look away from his captive’s face. “We are almost ready. Begin recording when I indicate,” he instructed Khan.
Then tearing his eyes away from his captive’s face, he went to his duffel bag and took out a mask to put on.
Khan continued to stay silent while he raised his phone to take a video of them. His eyes remained lowered on the phone screen. Gaurav knew Khan did not want to make any direct eye contact with the captive. Even though Khan supported him, he was still ashamed of this particular part of the plan.
Gaurav had already told Khan several times that he wasn’t needed, but it was Khan who kept insisting he wanted to help.
“Start recording,” Gaurav instructed and stood right next to the captive. He tugged her head back by her hair and placed the knife under her chin once again. Her chest was visibly moving up and down, and her breathing sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room.
“This is Nina Bhupati, the wife of Suraj Bhupati. Mr. Bhupati, I have your wife. I know you must be missing her. So, I’m sending you a souvenir.” Gaurav pulled the knife away from her throat. Then raising it higher, he sliced through a long, thick lock of hair he held.
He grabbed another handful and hacked it as well. He continued to hack rest of her hair using the knife.
Each time the knife sawed through a thick lock, he heard a gasp escape from his captive. It took a while to cut her thick hair. Once he was done, he held her by the remaining hair which was now only few inches long.
He deliberately lowered his mouth to his captive’s cheek and let his lips graze her skin. He heard her noisy inhale, and her breathing came out in short, panicked breaths. “Mr. Bhupati, I think you’ll not like the follow-up videos I send to you.”
And then, he gave a slight nod, allowing Khan to lower and turn off the recording on the phone.
“Check whether the video came out okay,” Gaurav instructed Khan. Meantime, he began to pick up the shorn locks and put them into a plastic bag.
Khan replayed the video. “It’s clear,” he said in a somber tone.
“Good. Leave the phone here before you leave.”
Khan placed the phone on the table. And then, he hesitated for a second, his eyes finally falling on the captive’s face who was watching him beseechingly.
Nina Bhupati looked small and broken with oversized clothes and her jagged haircut. Gaurav could see pity and worry flashing in Khan’s eyes. Khan looked like he wanted to say something to comfort her, but then, he closed his eyes, and left the room, shutting the door softly.
The breathing of the captive grew even harsher and louder in the quiet room. Gaurav collected most of the remaining shorn hair into a plastic bag and put it inside the duffel bag. He then returned to her to slowly peel the tape from her mouth. Apart from the noisy breaths, she remained quiet while he cut through the rope around her hands.
As soon as she was freed, she lay on the bed and curled into a small ball, hugging her knees, trying to cover her exposed skin from his gaze. What she didn’t realize was that without her long hair covering her, the entire backside looked enticing in that position as the damp material of his shirt and pants clung to her generous curves.
Gaurav watched her, unable to tear his eyes away from her. Something about her fetal position called to him. Every instinct urged him to touch her. Whether to hurt her or to comfort her, he didn’t know.
Irritated at his instincts and also for noticing her body, he stepped away from her. He pulled off the mask from his face and put it back in the duffel bag. He picked up the phone that Khan had used for recording and played the video. Although the background was dim, the faces were quite clear, and Nin
a Bhupati looked satisfyingly terrified through the entire video.
Her husband would be sufficiently tortured.
Gaurav would have to edit the video to add a synthesized voice instead of his. He was just about to lower the phone when he felt a slight movement. Before he could react or turn, Nina Bhupati grabbed the knife placed inside the duffel bag and quickly moved away.
She stood at a distance on the opposite side of the room.
With her jagged hair and with a knife held high in an attack position, she looked far removed from the glamorous society woman. She looked like a cornered wild animal.
She looked breathtaking.
Gaurav felt a dark, primal instinct rising in him to hunt and tame the wild woman in front of him. With great difficulty, he tried to tamp it down.
“Put down the knife, Mrs. Bhupati,” he told her quietly.
“No! If you don’t let me go, I’ll kill you! I’ll slice open your throat! I’ll cut open your damn innards and leave you suffering in pain.”
He smiled at her bloodthirsty threat. He knew it was far from a reassuring smile. “That’s going to be quite gory and messy, Mrs. Bhupati. Are you sure you like going through that route? I already know you are somewhat of a clean freak,” he softly taunted. He had seen how she organized the things in the room assigned to her, and as well as in the bathrooms she had used.
Her eyes flared.
He let out a deliberate sigh. “You are just delaying the inevitable. I can unarm you quite easily. The only thing you’ll achieve by making me tackle you is to make me even angrier.”
He held his hand out. “Return the knife right now,” he ordered softly, his voice holding quiet menace.
She shook her head vigorously and didn’t lower the knife. “You plan to hurt me, anyway. Before that, I’ll hurt you badly or kill you if you don’t allow me to escape.”
He didn’t say anything and waited to see what she would do.
She took a few tentative steps towards the door.
“There’s another man upstairs,” he said in a casual tone. “Do you plan on killing him as well? He has a soft spot for you. He’s going to be very sad and disappointed to know you would gut him and kill him to escape.”
Her hands trembled. “H-he won’t stop me.”
He let out another slow smile. “You seem to be quite confident of your charms, Mrs. Bhupati.”
She didn’t say anything and stood still. Too damn still.
Before even she did anything, he knew what her next move would be. The moment she began sprinting towards the door, he lunged towards her at the same time.
He was about to wrap his arms around her middle to pick her up, but she dodged and slipped away from his hands.
Gaurav frowned. He went at her again, but she dodged him again. They kept at it few more times, with him lunging and she dodging and escaping his hold. But the room was small, so he eventually had her cornered.
When he went to pull the knife away from her, she swung it, aiming straight towards his heart. Because of his quick reflexes, he was able to deflect the strike using his arm. With the other hand, he held her wrist.
But by then, the knife had already sliced through the flesh on his arm. “Fuck!” he hissed at the searing pain.
Ignoring the pain, he maintained the grip on her wrist. “Drop the knife,” he ordered.
She stared at him defiantly.
He increased the pressure on her wrist. Her eyes were widened and glazed in pain, but she did not let the knife go. “Let go of the knife before I break your wrist,” he commanded softly.
She shook her head.
“There are no doctors around. And no possible escape for you. Do you want to spend the days of your captivity with a broken wrist?”
A choked sob escaped her as she understood his threat. Slowly, she loosened the grip on the knife.
He pulled it from her and stepped away. His arm hurt and was bleeding profusely.
He looked at her coldly before picking up the bag and walking out of the room, locking her inside.
CHAPTER 12
Nina hated the wait.
She sat in the corner of the room with her back against the wall and her eyes trained on the door. She was sure her captor would return to torture her painfully for stabbing him in the arm.
She felt a crippling exhaustion in her body due to lack of sleep during the past week of her captivity. Her head kept falling forward, trying to reach for the comfort of sleep. But each time it did, she jerked it back up, refusing to give in to sleep. Especially when she was at her most vulnerable.
She didn’t know whether attacking him was a logical move. But when he had stalked her in a slow, unhurried manner, with menace radiating from his body, demanding his knife back, he had looked like a hunter who had cornered his prey. And she was his trembling, whimpering prey. Her mind had rebelled instantly at the comparison of herself with a prey. She wasn’t weak. She had never been weak. Even when the odds were stacked against her, she had always fought back. And so, not making this time any exception, she had sliced his arm.
And now, the thought of what he could do to her was tearing her apart.
Will he come to her room tonight? And if so, what will he do? Will he follow through his threats?
She thought about the video taken to send it to Suraj. Her captor had spoken about the follow-up videos. She didn’t have to guess about his intentions of what the later videos would contain.
Nina’s thoughts threatened to take her into darkness to escape into a place where there would be no worry or fear.
Don’t you dare give up!
She shivered and rubbed at her trembling arms as her mind ordered her not to give in to fear. But even as she talked herself into being brave, her heart almost stopped when the door to the room opened.
Her captor entered the room once again.
He saw her crouched on the floor. “Come with me,” he said in a quiet tone.
Although the tone was quiet, dread shot up in her. She noticed that unlike the other man who had choked her, this man never raised his voice. It only made her fear him even more.
She shook her head at him as an answer even though her entire body trembled.
His nostrils flared. “I already told you what would happen if you don’t follow my orders. Move.”
With shaking legs, she slowly stood up, but made no attempt to go towards him.
He covered the distance and grabbed her arm. And then he began dragging her towards his bedroom.
Panic tore through her, and she dug in her heels. “No! I’m not coming!”
He threw her another cold look before continuing to drag her out.
Her panic exploded, and she began kicking and screaming. “Stop!” she screamed. When she tried to knee him, he held her arms and swung her up and threw her over his shoulder.
The impact robbed her of her breath. She couldn’t speak or shout. And her stomach hurt as it jostled against his hard shoulder.
As soon as he took her into the room, he set her on her feet with a jarring thud. And before she could scream once again, her eyes fell on the older man who was also in the room. He was pouring steaming, hot water into a large bowl.
Her mind froze.
Was her captor planning to pour boiling water on her skin? Was that better than being raped?
Her panicked brain threw in various scenarios her captor could use the boiling water and also the bed to rape her. He would send those videos to Suraj and—
“Stitch.”
It took a while for that order to process through her terrified mind. “What?” she asked in a shaking voice.
“You cut me open. So you’ll have to be the one to stitch me back up.”
Her eyes flew from the hot water and fell on the bandages placed on the table next to the bed. She could also see a needle and some thread. “I-I can’t,” she whispered, understanding what he wanted. Even though her brain knew she wasn’t going to be violated or physically tortured, the panic
still remained.
“You can, and you will stitch my wounds.”
“I can’t,” she said with a weak voice. “I’ve never done it before.”
He watched her with an expressionless look. “You’ve never stitched before? Aren’t you supposedly one of the most sought-after exclusive clothes designers in the city?” There was a hint of mockery in his tone.
“I know how to stitch fabric, not… not… human skin,” she said with a slight involuntary shudder. Her stomach which was still a bit queasy after being thrown over his shoulder began to churn even more.
“It’s the same thing, Mrs. Bhupati. Get going.”
Her eyes searched for the old man in the room, but he wasn’t there. She realized he must have left them. She desperately hoped he would return soon.
“Move!” her captor snapped.
She jumped and followed him as he sat on his bed with his back to the headboard and stretched his legs in front of him.
Her legs faltered when she saw him removing his shirt and throwing it into a corner of the bed. Her eyes fell on his chest and lingered for a couple of seconds before looking away hurriedly.
When her eyes fell on his face again, she noticed that he was watching her with another expressionless look. Biting her lip to stop it from trembling, she slowly covered the remaining distance.
He pointed his chin to the table next to him. “Clean and disinfect the area before you begin stitching,” he instructed.
Taking the clean cloth the old man had left next to the hot water, she dipped it in the water and wiped his wounded arm. The cut was open wide, and even though she wiped it with the wet cloth, fresh blood oozed out.
She didn’t know why, but the sight of his blood almost shocked her. Maybe because until then, she had thought of him as a horrible monster. And to see him, bloodied and vulnerable like everyone else, it somehow forced her to think of him as a human.
“Disinfect.”
His command snapped her out of her fanciful thoughts. He might be a human, but he was also a human who wanted to hurt her. With trembling hands, she picked up the small bottle left behind by the old man and poured some into the cloth. And then, she wiped it across the cut.
