Chapter Twenty-Three

Fire in my house

SAARANSH

 

Ele is not ready to touch down. Still flying high on the ecstasy of savoring Brendon. Propelled into the stratosphere by our naked shenanigans of the last three days. Free at last of the inhibitions in India. The demure Gillu is on board to explore all possibilities. Basking under the tenderness of Brendon’s care. Content every night of our trip, in weaving dreams, warm in bed, cocooned by Brendon’s burly body after scorching sex.

Damn the soreness. Can you blame me? How do you deal with a horny 100kg muscle jock banging the life out of you? By the third day, the tentative, gentle care during our first time turned into a tornado. I demanded to be owned and to have Brendon mark my body. Thank god for the secluded cabin. Our lust-filled, bestial moans would have driven the neighbours away. One time the bed creaked so loud, I squeaked in fright. We peered over the edge to check if the leg had come off. Finding the hardwood bedposts intact, we went about our business giggling like kids, competing to do the honors.

My cheeks heat up at the memory. But the few days together were more. Each moment was a glimpse into each other’s life. Small, mundane things like matching our playlist of country songs. Brendon clogged my ears with his bathroom singing. On the trail walks, I bored him to death about plants. Thanks to the ramblings of a bumbling B in India. We pigged out on the desserts, burning the calories with the Kamasutra exercises. Bon appétit.

My phone’s ringtone jerks me out of my haze. My heart seizes when I see the number. Who is calling from the Badminton Association? It’s 09:00 A.M. in India right now. I answer at the third ring. My stomach turns over at the words from the official. “Can my coach attend?” I try to negotiate on the timing. ‘Sir, I am in Melbourne.” He does not budge.

“Your presence is mandatory, Mr. Saaransh.”

“But why such a hurry, sir?”

“You haven’t watched the video. Have you?”

“Which video?”

“Search your name, and the link will show up at the top.” He disconnects.

I scramble to check my phone. Shit. Where did this come from? My legs buckle. I rub my eyes in disbelief. These are videos and pictures of our trip to Yarra Valley. The images are explicit. Most of them focus on my face, and in all, Brendon and I are naked. Those moans now slam like a hammer on my head. Who filmed these videos?

I scramble to search for flights. Sweat trickles down from my forehead. The only way I can make the appointment is to leave now. The flight will touch down in Delhi in the early hours. Enough time to change and attend the meeting. No time to waste; I book my flight and rush to gather all my stuff and dump them into the travel bag.

“Shy, where are you?” The door to the bedroom slams against the wall. Brendon freezes at the sight of my bags. Panic and the scare on his face are all I need to know. He has seen the videos. Brendon rushes over and gathers me in his arms.

“I am leaving, Blue.”

“No. I am not letting you go. Shy, we will fight this fire together. We will find out who is behind this. We will have these videos pulled down. Matt and my agent are working on this.”

I push him to create space. “Blue, my house is burning. I can’t wait for the fire brigade to arrive.”

“No, don’t go. Please.” He holds my hands to stop me from packing.

“Blue, I got a call from the Badminton Association. They have seen these videos. I have to report tomorrow to their office in Delhi. I have to go now.”

Brendon is insistent. I try to explain, but he is not listening. “Don’t let this destroy us, Shy.”

“Us? Blue, I am not sure what ‘us’ means any longer. Please let me go.”

He hugs me tight. Tears well in my eyes. Our worlds are thrown into turmoil again. I wonder if we can climb out of this black hole. “Blue, I lost my family. I can’t lose badminton.”

“Bree, we found out who is behind this.” Rob barges into the room, eyes wide, nostrils flaring. Panting. “A photographer leaked these to the press.”

He does not say it, but the possibility is there. Brendon takes him out of the room. I should follow, but time is running out on me. To salvage my career from this dumpster fire, I have no other choice.

*

BRENDON

 

“Dammit! Shy is not picking the phone.”

“Keep trying. We can catch up if we find out how far on the way he is.” Rob tries to calm me, but my dread is growing by the minute. Saaransh crept out of the house while Rob briefed me on his discussions. Matt had filed applications in court to have the videos removed and obtain restraining orders against Mike. Steve, my agent, blew his fuse. After speaking to me, he insisted on filing a police case.

The crunch of tires on the gravel draws our attention to the red Toyota Camry. The sight of the man who fucked my life over once again makes my blood boil.

“Keep calm, Bree.” Rob puts his hand on my shoulder. I rub my face. “Why don’t you go inside and try calling Saaransh again? I will deal with this scumbag.” Rob nudges me to go, but I dig my feet. I have had enough of this dipshit.

“Looking for your toy boy?” Mike struts out of the car. His voice is slurred. Mike is always on a happy hour. Rob’s grip on my shoulders tightens.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Mike stays mum, ignoring me to search his pocket. He takes out a cigarette from the pack and lights up. The bugger is testing my patience. I snatch the box out of his hand and throw the case away. “I am talking to you. Are you ears painted on?”

“So, the bitch bolted? The slut took you away from me. I sent him away from you. No one messes with Mikey. Now it is you and me. The good old times.” Mike staggers to my side. Rob tries to intervene, but I shove him aside.

Mike’s words confirm our suspicions. A plan forms in my mind. He caused trouble for my Saaransh. I will break this wanker with my bare hands. But first, I will make him croak. I need to be patient and extract information from him. I brace myself for the inevitable acid his words will force down my throat. Mike stumbles. I catch him as he falls near me. “Tell me, Mike, what did you do this time?”

Mike smirks. Over the next fifteen minutes, he vomits the venom he spewed in my life. This is beyond what I can ever imagine. I ball my hands into fists. Mike’s inebriated state saves him from the punches I wish to land on his smug face. The pounding I will give him needs to wait. Finding out details of Mike’s devious plan is more important.

“Mikey, show me the video of us.” The drunken fool hands me his mobile. In the video, Mike is blowing me off. My head throbs, and my arms twitch. I turn to Mike. “When did you record this?” Mike laughs. I grab his collar and lift him off the ground. “Tell me when you recorded this. You perv.”

“The night before the accident,” Mike blurts out.

“Why in the hell?” I shake Mike as he hangs in midair.

He is no match for my strength and height. “Because you love the brown dipshit and not me. Even when I kissed, you called out the bugger’s name. What can he give that I can’t offer?” Mike’s eyes tear up. I don’t give a damn.

“Did you send this to someone?”

“S-a-a-r-a-nsh.”

My grip on his throat tightens with each letter he croaks. He turns his head, avoiding my gaze. Mike coughs and gasps. Rob pulls my hands, “BREE, leave him. Wasting time on this piece of shit will do you no good. Go find Saaransh. He may still be at the airport.” Rob shows me his mobile. He recorded everything. Will the video record be enough to send Mike to hell?