Chapter 2

Though tears blurred Gargi’s sight, they could not mask the massive form as it stood outside the curtains. Hastily she wiped at her eyes. “What did you just say?” she repeated.

The man, hidden somewhat behind the yellow and orange checkered drapes, shoved them aside and stepped into the secluded space. His physical presence gave the distinct impression of causing the room to shrink in response to his girth.

“I said I hope he rots.” The unmistakable note of unadulterated sincerity scraped at her frayed nerve endings. Maybe in other circumstances, at some other time and place, Gargi would have been alarmed to see a strange man peeking at their misery. Yet the last couple of days had taken their toll on her. Dev’s condition threatened his survival. If he lived—

If he lived...

The idea, the thought of ‘if,’ wrenched a sob from her.

Dear Jesus, please let my brother live. Don’t take him from me.

“Get out of here!” she screeched. “I don’t know who you are and I don’t care. Just go!”

The man took another step toward her. She felt his intrusion into her personal space like a palpable insertion. He topped Dev by several inches, with broad shoulders, a wide chest straining the dark green T-shirt, and long arms with meaty hands. His dark golden eyes meshed unexpectedly with the red gold of his hair. A well-groomed beard framed the lower half of his jawline.

“I’m going to go.” The man’s voice had a gruff drawl to it. “You don’t have to know my name, but I will tell you someone else’s name. Alma Bertha Reckley. She may not mean a thing to you and that piece of trash lying there, but she means the world to me.”

He pointed a long, thick finger at Dev’s prone figure. “That worthless scum stole my mama’s life savings. So, I’ll say it again. I hope he rots.”

Heat flushed the surface of her skin like lava-flow. A fine trembling wracked her limbs. This man, whoever he was, had no idea what he was talking about.

“My brother,” she gritted out, “did not steal anything from anyone. He was set up. There were four others involved in this scheme and they implicated him.”

“Baloney,” the man scoffed. His thin brows arched. “If he was set up, then where are these so-called conspirators? Nowhere to be found.”

Gargi stomped over to the man, barely conscious of her actions. All she knew was that she wanted to shut him up.

“Perhaps you don’t understand English well. My brother is innocent. He gave everything of himself to others. Orphanages, charities, churches, the list goes on.” Her arms flung wildly into the air. “How can he be the type to steal from anyone?”

The man snorted. “People who don’t work for their money tend to part with it faster than those who do. Else, why spend a million dollars on a sports car?”

A red haze obscured her vision. She snarled like a wild animal. “Get out! You have no right to be here!”

The man lifted an arrogant eyebrow. It made the heat scorching her skin reach new depths of intensity. Could he see the steam coming out of her ears? Why wasn’t he running away from the violent urges she fought to contain?

“I think I have every right.” His gruff drawl flattened to a rough tone of scorn. “I want to see him either rot or do the time the good people of the U. S. of A.’s justice system ordered him to do.”

Every muscle in her face hardened like stone. “Get out of here now before I call security.”

He shrugged. “Go right ahead.”

“I mean it. Go!”

The man stared at her and she held his gaze. She wouldn’t be the one to back down. Her family had nothing to hide from. Nothing to be ashamed of. No matter what this ... person tried to make her feel otherwise. His dark golden eyes roved over her in a languid, insolent way. Predatory eyes, but she was hardly the prey!

After an indefinite amount of time the man spun on his right foot, thrust the cheery, dreadful curtains aside, and strode away. The metal rings in the tracks overhead rang in the wake of his departure.

Gargi released a breath she hadn’t known she held. Her knees wobbled and she collapsed into a chair beside the bed. She willed her heartbeat to stop its rapid pace.

Why had she responded so violently? She’d heard horrible, unkind things from the ‘victims’ of her brother’s ‘fraudulent’ activities. Things worse than what this interloper had said.

So why did she lose her Kapoor pride, and react? Papa taught her their pride would be the only thing to keep them together during the entire nightmare of their trials.

“Never let people know they have the ability to affect you. Keep your head high and your mind focused.” Her father had drilled the mantra into both her and her brother since childhood, when they had attended their mother’s funeral. A long, weary sigh caved in her chest. Gargi dragged her hair away from her forehead and observed her brother’s bed-ridden form. Illness wracked his body, causing his chest to rise and fall unsteadily in sleep.

The prison representatives had made them sign non-disclosure agreements and other legal paperwork ensured to keep their mouths shut. Miguel Santiago, their attorney, had advised against it, but she’d had no other choice. Dev had gotten worse in those agonizingly long two days it took to get him the help he needed.

She had no idea of all the problems this Lyme disease would cause, but she knew it had to be pretty bad. The big man’s image rose in her mind and her fist balled.

People like that man had caused this disease to afflict her innocent brother. If they had not lied and fabricated evidence he would not be here in this place, in this moment, fighting for his life.

The toughest part was still to come. One act she dreaded but it had to be done. The silver lining in this nightmare stemmed from the fact her brother was being treated in a hospital and not a prison infirmary.

She wiped the salty remnants of tears from her cheeks and then got up to stand in the hallway. The man had long gone but she inexplicably felt his presence, as if he stood next to her. She shook off the strange notion and retrieved her phone from her purse. She tapped on an app which allowed her to make international calls, and dialed a number. It rang, and a moment later she heard a deep, familiar voice answer on the other end.

“Namaste, beti.”

“Papa, I have some bad news.”

Leon had enough time to buy a bag of barbeque Cheetos from the vending machine and head back to the waiting room. Five minutes later, the surgeon came to brief him on his mother’s operation.

“The operation went well,” Dr. Munaco stated. “We had some bleeding, but not much. She’ll be in recovery for about an hour and then moved to the surgical ward.”

A small knot of pressure eased in the center of his chest. Alma had gone through the surgery fine. The doctor finished his debriefing and Leon settled in the chair until his mother regained consciousness. Ripping open the bag of the spicy snack, he chewed while he kept going over the encounter he’d had with Kapoor’s sister.

The woman really believed her brother had been wrongfully accused. Witnesses, financial records, phone taps—what did she do with all that evidence? Shut her eyes to it?

He shook his head. How gullible could one person be?

Nevertheless, a spark of admiration flared inside him. Her dark eyes shone with defiance. Those smooth, chocolate malt cheeks ruddy with temper. The stubborn chin quivered in defense of her brother. Before the encounter, he believed all the Kapoors had been involved in the scam in some way. Kapoor’s sister’s reaction had shown him they weren’t all complicit in the man’s crimes.

He tapped his mustache. What’s more, from her response, family loyalty meant something to her. He understood it well. Though his parents had lived their lives as uneducated ‘trailer trash,’ he still took care of them. Still loved them, faults and all.

“You don’ abandon yer family unless you got a good reason for it.” His dad’s words reverberated in his head. “The only ones that’s gonna stand with you besides the good Lord Hisself is family. We take care of each other because dem folks out there will have a field day chewin’ out yer behind.”

A brief swell of sorrow rose in him at the old man’s memory. He was the best father a man could have.

Leon sighed and ate a few more Cheetos. For what it was worth, not that it would matter to her, he respected Kapoor’s sister for her dedication—even in the midst of the lies.

“Mr. Reckley?”

The voice interrupted his musings. He stood as the nurse came forward. “That’s me.”

“Your mother’s awake and is asking for you.”

Leon threw the empty bag into a nearby trash can and dusted his hands off on his pants. He followed the woman to his mother’s location. One thought blared in his mind. How would Alma react when she heard the man who had swindled her out of her life savings was laid up in the same hospital as she was?

“Gargi?”

She jerked awake, regretting it when her neck cracked audibly in the hush of the room. She gave Dev a tender smile as she leaned over the bed. “I’m here, bhaaii,” she responded in Hindi.

Dev’s eyes scanned the room. “Main mar gaya, aur svarg mein chale gae hain?”

Gargi let loose a watery laugh. Compared to prison, a clean hospital room with a view of the parking lot had to be paradise. “Nahin, bhaaii. You haven’t died and gone to heaven. If heaven looks like a hospital, then I’d rather stay on earth.”

He returned her smile, and then grimaced. “It’s like I got hit by a bus. My right arm’s numb.” He stretched and then winced. “What day is it?”

“It’s Tuesday afternoon.”

“Feels longer.”

She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Dev, I’ve some things I need to tell you. It was touch and go for a day or so but Dr. Manchester stabilized you.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on, chhotee bahan?”

She took his hand and raised it to her lips. “Bhaaii, there’s no other way to say this than straight out. You have a condition called Lyme disease.”

“Huh?” His eyebrows squished together. “What are you talking about?”

As she related everything Dr. Manchester had told her, his brown eyes dampened with unshed moisture. The surrounding atmosphere thickened with a tangible sense of horror. She sensed Dev withdraw from her, although he hadn’t moved a muscle.

“I—I—can’t—” Words failed him.

“Mujhe pata hai,” Gargi whispered as she kissed his hand again. “I know,” she repeated.

The past four and a half years had been the roughest of their lives. Now this. “We had to go through hell just to get me in here.” Dev’s voice broke. “Now this? The state’s not going to want to do anything about this!”

Tears threatened but Gargi blinked them back. “We’ll worry about one thing at a time.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Are—are the antibiotics working? Can we beat this thing? Tell me something good.”