by Varsha Dixit
Not again! Aisha cowered. “Please!”
A flash of lightning and Aisha saw Kritika right behind Shreya.
About fucking time!
Princess Kritika raised her finger to her lips; and then, with a familiar hollow smile, she raised her bony hands and pushed. At the same time, one of the lamp posts came unhinged and slammed on Shreya’s back.
Startled and off balance Shreya fell on Aisha.
Aisha wrapped her arms around Shreya. The gun got wedged between the two.
Shreya fought back.
Aisha felt herself tip over, right into the murky depths of the pond!
“NOOOO!”
The soiled water rushed into her mouth cutting off Aisha’s scream.
Strange electric tingles broke over Aisha’s skin as she went deeper in the shadowy darkness. The pen torch was somewhere near throwing pale light in the olive-green water.
Shreya was on top of Aisha, struggling and kicking.
Aisha struggled to close her mouth. The water tasted foul. There was so much of it. The chain around her neck was crushing her throat.
Shreya landed a hard kick in the soft flesh of Aisha’s stomach. Aisha screamed. More water rushed in, choking, and crushing Aisha’s lungs. Terror paralyzed her.
I can’t breathe!
Shreya pushed Aisha’s head down, her teeth gnashed even as her eyes widened manically, showing the white of her irises. She grabbed the zip tie, holding Aisha close. They both sunk lower.
Transfixed by the deranged woman’s gaze, Aisha’s mouth opened wider. All the fight left her. Her eyes rolled back as consciousness began to desert her. Aisha gurgled as a slew of bubbles escaped her mouth.
I’m dying!
Chapter 98
Open yourself to them. The spirits will guide you.
Aisha saw the words float in front of her. Suvabrata’s last text.
“Let me in,” the water seemed to whisper in her ear.
A distant form swirled above them.
Floating between life and death, Aisha saw Princess Kritika swim down to them, the black hollow smile intact. Her bony hands reached out to Aisha . . .
Somehow, Aisha dredged up the strength to lift and slip her hands in Kritika’s icy ones.
#
Kabir’s head broke the surface of the dirty green water. He wasn’t alone.
Parth and a couple of other police officers helped him and Aisha out of the pond.
“She is barely breathing!”
They rolled Aisha over on the cement. Kabir bent over and performed a quick CPR.
“Argh!”
With a jolt, Aisha turned to her side and threw up the water blocking her trachea. Gagging, she fell down on her back. Her throat felt like it was burning, and her chest hurt with every breath she took.
“Aisha, sweetheart, you are going to be okay!” Kabir feverishly rubbed her hands and feet. Gently raising Aisha, he hugged her like he would never let her go.
“I’m fine,” Aisha’s voice was weak. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she shivered uncontrollably.
I survived!
“Thank God for that light. I would never have known where you were had it not been for the pen torch floating near you,” Kabir sobbed in her hair, apologizing repeatedly. Aisha surrendered to the comfort of his arms and his thundering heartbeat that reverberated in her chest.
“Excuse me, Aisha!” Parth broke in.
“Not right now,” Kabir curtly shot back.
“We should have a doctor examine her,” Parth retorted.
“Is the doctor here?”
“Inside.”
Kabir helped Aisha up and carried her back into the house.
“Just rest,” he murmured in her ear.
Aisha cast a furtive glance at her hands and then closed her eyes with sheer exhaustion. She wondered if she would ever be able to tell anyone what had happened in the water . . . The moment she had opened herself to Kritika’s ghost.
The pain and cold had suffused her body as Kritika had taken over. The horror on Shreya’s face made Aisha wonder whose face Shreya had seen at that moment.
Was it me or Kriti?
With the newfound strength in Aisha’s arms, she had snapped the zip tie apart, unwrapped the chain around her neck and then turned on Shreya, grasping her throat.
I did try to stop Kriti.
Aisha had struggled to gain control of her body as she had seen her own hands choke the life out of Shreya and push her down to the depths of the pond.
I know exactly where her body lies at the bottom, broken and twisted.
A sob escaped Aisha’s throat.
“Hush,” Kabir kissed her forehead, his breathing labored.
The moment Shreya had breathed her last, a giant heave had brought Aisha close to the surface, near the torch.
Where Kabir found me!
“Excuse me, Aisha,” Parth spoke. “I have your phone. You just got a text from someone—a Suvabrata?”
“What does it say?” It hurt to speak.
“Thank you for accepting. It’s over!”
“Now, who’s Suvabrata?” Kabir asked.
“My late grandmother’s best friend,” Aisha replied weakly. It still hurt to speak. Her shoulders slumped.
Kabir nodded and placed a kiss on her forehead.
Aisha understood what Suva was referring to. In her fight to live, Aisha had welcomed the dead, opened her mind to their energy. She was now on a tricky slope.
Now, the radio is on 24x7! What challenges will this bring for me? Aisha sighed and tucked her face in Kabir’s chest.
Rain continued to come down on the uneven grass, mangled trees, overturned furniture, broken lampposts, and pots.
It was a deathly storm—a storm that could kill, a storm that did.
Epilogue
A month and a half later
Aisha sat on the soft bed engrossed in the book she was reading, “Introduction to Forensic Science.”
A soft knock sounded on the door. Setting it down, Aisha smiled softly. Her body tingled in anticipation. She straightened her hair and out of habit, touched the small and faint scar near her left temple. Momento from the night she nearly died. The soft knocks now came in urgent succession.
Impatient, are we?
Aisha slid off the bed and straightened the straps of her slinky nightdress as she unlocked the door.
She did not have a chance to say anything. The man pushed himself inside her room and was quick to lock the door behind him.
“Excuse me!” Aisha attempted indignation.
“Excuse me, my ass!” Kabir hauled Aisha back in his arms and pressed her into the wall. “I haven’t kissed you for weeks.” he growled, as he took Aisha’s mouth in sheer domination.
Aisha was more than a willing captive. She opened her mouth under his and they kissed each other longingly. Kabir grabbed her butt and lifted her up against him. Aisha wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck as their tongues dueled and mated.
They only broke apart to breathe. Aisha tongued his ear lobe, moaning against his skin as she deeply inhaled the spicy cologne of the man who now mattered to her more than herself.
“I have missed you so much!” Kabir pressed open-mouthed kisses against the column of her neck and the curve of her shoulder, grinding himself against her, leaving Aisha in no doubt about which part of his was thirsting for her. He unzipped himself hastily.
Aisha yanked his shirt out of his jeans and hurriedly unbuttoned it, revealing his muscled and supple skin to her roving hands. Digging her fingers in Kabir’s shoulders, Aisha felt herself melt against his arousal.
“Against the wall?” Aisha rubbed her center against his arousal.
Kabir groaned, moving his tongue across the slope of her breast. “Yes, sweet Aisha, yes.”
Aisha and Kabir did not talk much after that, putting their hands and mouth to better use—on each other.
Aisha was the first to come and Kabir cut of her org
asmic mewl by meshing his mouth with hers even as he continued thrusting in her. Arching her body, Aisha tightened herself around Kabir and he too found his release.
Sweaty and spent, Kabir gently dropped Aisha’s legs to the floor.
“Oh, they feel like rubber!” Aisha sighed, straightening her clothes with unsteady hands. Her heartbeat was still racing, the color on her face ran high. He body shook with the feelings of explosive connection she always felt with Kabir after a bout of sex.
“Can you carry me to the bed?” Kabir smiled, staring in her eyes even as he wiped the sweat off her brow.
“Sure, if you carry me first!” Aisha nuzzled his hand.
Somehow, they made it to the bed and collapsed side by side. Kabir reached out and gently tugged her hair. “I love you, sweet Aisha!”
Aisha turned to her side facing him. “I love you too, baby.”
Kabir caressed her lips and her cheek, his touch like his look, tender. “I don’t say it often enough, but thank you for coming in my life, sweetheart. Thank you for hanging in, despite everything and everyone in it.”
Aisha smiled. “Stop saying that. It is my pleasure! Like literally, my pleasure.” She winked at him.
Kabir settled back comfortably on the pillows and dragged Aisha on top of his chest.
“Your mother is very nice!” Aisha snuggled against him. Kabir had been in London for the last two weeks. His mother had accompanied him back.
“I can’t believe that bitch got to her also.”
“Shreya created distances between you two. And a lot of misunderstandings.”
“I should have reached out to mum.” Kabir stroked Aisha’s bare back.
“I’m just happy that you are reconnecting with her and your grandparents.”
“Do you like the newly renovated interiors of the palace?” Kabir dropped a kiss on her head.
“I love it!” Aisha moved and rested her face on her elbows. “Kiara and Papa are coming here the day after. What if our families don’t like each other?”
“Then you and I just run away.” Kabir trailed his fingers on her forearms. “I love touching you. I missed you so much.”
“Me too!” Aisha beamed at him.
“So, you are okay with the long-distance relationship? You in Mumbai and me here in Sirsa?” Kabir asked, playing with the strap of her nightdress.
“Stop!” Aisha playfully smacked his hand away. “This place is not too far. We will travel back and forth to each other. You like it here, don’t you?” Aisha and Kabir clasped and unclasped their hands.
“I do like it here! I don’t know if it makes sense, but I feel closer to Kritika here.” Kabir rubbed his chin. “You can call me crazy, but I feel like a part of her is still here. She is not all gone.”
Nope, she isn’t! Aisha nodded.
“I’m selling the Panaji house.” Kabir sighed. He planted a swift and deep kiss on Aisha’s soft lips.
“Good call. The house and the kiss!” Aisha ran her tongue over her lips. She could still taste Kabir on her lips. “I’m hungry. I’m going to the kitchen. You want something?”
“You. Preferably naked.”
Kabir grinned, dropping years from his face. He was a changed man now. He rarely frowned and was taking a keen interest in the royal residence renovation and the palace hotel’s management.
“Hold on, stud! I’m here for a week.” Aisha rolled away from his reach. “The plane food sucked.” She walked to the door and put a robe on.
“I wish you could stay here forever with me!”
Aisha paused at his words and turned slowly. Kabir sat against the pillow, his buffed chest at display. His face was somber, but his eyes positively dazzled with emotions.
Say yes, dimwit!
Aisha hesitated and then she opened her mouth, her heart in her eyes. Kabir leaned forward hopeful.
Angry bird sounds filled the room.
“What the hell?” Kabir looked around.
“Kia recently changed my text tone.” Aisha picked up her cell and read the text. “Parth wants to know if it’s okay to call.”
“No! Tell him you are taken. Actually, give me the cell and I will tell him very clearly in my way.” Kabir griped.
Aisha blew Kabir a kiss. “Coming right back for round two. On the floor, me on top!” She knew Kabir loved it when she was on top.
Kabir groaned. “Come back right here, you tease!”
Aisha left the room and closed the door behind her. She quietly went down the curved marble staircase.
Kabir had done wonders to the royal residence. New paint on the wall, silk curtains, rich wood furniture, soft plush floor rugs, family pictures and some of Kabir’s work hung up on the walls. A few pictures of hers had also found their way on the wall.
Aisha paused in front of her favorite picture. Kabir’s family portrait. “Are you there?” Aisha said softly, looking at Princess Kritika’s smiling face.
She waited and felt it. A soft sensation passed through her; it was cold. A pair of legs settled on top of the picture frame.
Aisha glanced up at Kritika’s spirit sitting atop the portrait of her family.
“Never got a chance to say this before, but, thank you for saving my life. If you hadn’t come when you did. . .”
Kritika’s pale figure smiled, an onyx cavern for a mouth. She simply shrugged.
Aisha, still struggling with the fact that not only she could sense sprits, but could even see one, asked, “Umm, did you see your mother and brother?”
The Princess nodded again but her smile faltered.
“You don’t have to be here, you know. You have had your revenge. Be at peace now.”
“No! I’m staying.” Kritika shook her head and frowned. Her voice came as if speaking from far. Getting on her feet, she leaped from the picture to the banister and ran up on it and disappeared into the wall.
I must talk to Suva about her! Aisha made a mental note.
Her cell phone beeped. Another text from Parth.
Aisha made her way down to the dimly lit living room. She could hear some staff milling in the kitchen. Aisha ignored her rumbling stomach and called Parth.
Parth answered on one ring. “Hi, Aisha.”
“Hi, Parth. Got your texts. What’s up?”
“Are you alone? Can we talk?” Parth’s voice was wary.
“Yeah, sure!” Aisha drawled, sinking in a sofa.
“The last time we met, you said that if I ever found an interesting case I should call you.”
“Yes!” Aisha felt her pulse race as she sat straighter.
“A body of a taxi driver who had been missing for a while was found last week in Raxaul. It’s a busy small town in the East Champaran district of Bihar.”
“Okay?”
“The driver had been shot execution style.” Parth paused. “The bullet did fragment a bit, but it was mostly intact and was recovered from his brain. It matched the bullets recovered from a previous crime scene.”
This time his pause was longer.
“I’m listening!” Aisha prompted.
“The bullet was fired from the same gun that killed your brother. It was a hundred percent match.”
Aisha felt her world pop off its axis.
**
Thank You Note
Thank you for reading ‘Killer Moves.’ I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. While you were reading ‘Killer Movies,’ I was probably busy writing the next Aisha, Kabir and Parth story.
I hope you will spare a minute to two of your time to leave a spoiler free star rating review of this book on Amazon. It would mean a lot to me as an author as well as help readers like you find ‘Killer Moves.’
Thank you once again for being a part of Aisha and Kabir’s story.
Other books by Varsha Dixit
~ Right Fit Wrong Shoe
~ Wrong Means Right End
~ Rightfully Wrong Wrongfully Right
~ Only Wheat Not White
~ Xcess Baggage
~ The Wallflowers
~ A Hasty Hookup
Acknowledgements
“When we give cheerfully and accept gratefully, everyone is blessed.” Maya Angelou
A big thank you to my parents—my kind and fun-loving mom and my source of eternal joy and love, my late father. I wouldn’t be a quarter of the person I am without all that they have done for me and continue to do. I feel immense love for my husband and daughter for their binding affection and for always having my back. I may be busier because of these two but I am definitely stronger and happier as well. To my in-laws for their love and encouragement. Thank you to my brother and his beautiful family, my sister-in-law, for all the love that one can never have enough of.
A shout out to my BFF and beta reader Richa Sharma—the first person to hear the rough plot and read my ‘crappy’ drafts. Thank you for your never-ending patience. A very big thank you to Rubina Ramesh for being a mentor in the confusing field of self-publishing, and more than that for being such a good friend.
A heartfelt thank you to Dola Basu Singh for her immense and invaluable contribution as my editor. Thank you for bringing out the best in my work.
A big shout out to all the members of TBC (The Book Club) for their immense support and helpful suggestions.
Thank you to Germancreative for the beautiful cover design. Thank you to Eark Tec for formatting the ebook.
Thank you to each and every one of you who has helped me in this journey. Your contributions are priceless to me.
And the biggest thank you to all my readers. You enrich and empower the writer in me. Thank you for making me the author I am.
Meet the Author
Varsha Dixit is the author of the bestselling novels, Right Fit Wrong Shoe (2009), Xcess Baggage (2010), Wrong Means Right End (2012), Only Wheat Not White (2014), and Rightfully Wrong Wrongfully Right (2016). She worked in the Indian television industry before moving to the US with her family. She feels enriched and blessed to be an author and a woman.
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