Protect my heart (On Hold)

c h a p t e r 33

Happy reading
TW: Extreme Violence

AARAV

The room is dark, the only light flickering from the single bulb hanging above, casting long, jagged shadows across the stained concrete floor. The smell of blood, sweat, and fear lingers in the air, thick and suffocating. Vikram hangs from the ceiling, his wrists bound with rusted chains that dig into his skin, leaving deep, angry marks. His head lolls forward, chin resting against his bare, bruised chest, his breathing ragged and uneven.

I step forward, my boots echoing against the floor, each step a reminder that his time is running out. He stirs at the sound, groaning, blinking sluggishly as he lifts his head to meet my gaze. His once-arrogant eyes are now hollow, filled with pain and something that looks suspiciously like regret.

"Aarav…" he croaks, his voice barely above a whisper, cracked and raw from screaming. I tilt my head, feigning interest.

“You don’t look so good, Vikram,” I said, my voice eerily calm.

He chuckled—or tried to. It came out as a wet, choking sound. “You were always a—vindictive bastard, Aarav.”

I let my fist fly, snapping his head to the side. His chair wobbled but didn’t fall. “And you were always a coward,” I murmured. “A pathetic, gutless bastard who hid behind his father’s money and his goons in college.”

Vikram spit blood onto the floor. “What is this, payback for the old days? You think this makes you a man?”

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “No, Vikram. This isn’t about college.” I leaned in, gripping his jaw tightly, forcing him to look at me. “This is for my wife.”

He smirked, despite the pain it must have caused. “Ah, Anika. She turned out quite well, didn’t she? No wonder you’re so protective.”

Rage surged through me, cold and calculated. I picked up the rusted pliers from the table beside me and pressed them against his left hand, gripping his index finger. “You think it was funny? Leaving her at the altar like she was nothing?” I twisted, and his scream echoed in the small space. “Threatening her?” Another twist. “Ordering an acid attack?” I yanked, and the crack of bone followed by his agonized wail sent a ripple of satisfaction through me.

“I—” he gasped, “I didn’t—”

I grabbed a knife next, running the blade along his cheek. “Lies won’t save you now, Vikram.” I pressed the knife deeper, drawing a thin line of blood. “I know it was you.”

His breathing was ragged, his body trembling. “You don’t know shit.”

I sighed, stepping back, wiping my hands on a cloth. “You’re right. I don’t.” I turned to the table, scanning my options. A hammer, a crowbar, a blowtorch. My fingers hovered over the blowtorch. Fire had a way of making people talk.

Vikram whimpered as I ignited the flame. “Aarav—”

I met his eyes, blank, unfeeling. “Scream as loud as you want. No one’s coming for you.”

The smell of burning flesh filled the room. His screams turned guttural, animalistic. He thrashed, but the bindings held. His body convulsed as I seared his arm, the skin blackening, curling away.

“Aarav, please!” His voice cracked, hoarse from the screaming. “I swear—I didn’t do it! I didn’t!”

I stilled, the fire still dancing at the tip of the blowtorch. “Lies.”

He sobbed, his body slumping. “I—” he coughed, blood spilling from his lips, “I swear on my mother’s life—I didn’t do it.”

Something inside me stilled. His voice—desperate, broken. His words rang clear, his breath shuddered and his body sagged with the weight of pain and exhaustion.

My jaw clenched. "Who else would do it?" I chuckle humorlessly. "Only you have the motive." I tsked, "At least leave your mother out of it you bastard."

“You got the wrong man.”

My fingers tightened around the gun holstered at my side.

Wrong man or not, he had still wronged Anika. Still tormented me in ways I had never spoken about. And now? Now, he had seen a side of me that no one should live to tell.

I pulled the gun free, flicking the safety off. Vikram’s one good eye widened, his body trembling.

“Aarav—”

I pulled the trigger.

The single gunshot echoed in the room, a final punctuation to the story of Vikram Sinha. His body jerked once before slumping forward, his head hanging lifelessly.

I stared at the blood pooling beneath him, at the mess of what had once been a man I had known for years.

I exhaled, slow and measured. If what he said is right, if he really did not do it I might have to find that man soon because he isn't going to stop and I will not bare a single scratch of my wife because what kind of man will it make me.

Then, I turned and walked out, leaving the ghosts behind.

Authors note:
A huge apology to everyone who has been waiting for an update, Life got busy and as some of you might know I am going to publish a book officially so that was taking up a lot of time (ps. If you are interested in reading that please check out my instagram- @authorscjain) anyways I won't say I am completely back but I will be uploading at least twice or thrice a month. But even after me being MIA thank you for reading my book and making it reach 100k+ reads, means the world to me! You guys are the best.
Love:)