Circle of Trust

Chapter 19

The rage that built over the years erupted like dormant volcano spewing hot molten lava in its wake. Varun rained punches on the man who had been his best friend since playschool. He didn't care that he got back as good as he gave. That was Shiven – couldn't take anything without giving it back.

"Shiv..." he growled, the name leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

Varun danced on the balls of his feet, his fists boxed close to his face. His friend held a similar pose taking them back to their boxing days. His ears buzzed with adrenaline, sweat poured down his face, but his eyes never left his opponent.

The ambience of a bar shifted to that of a boxing ring, the spectators cheering to see a man fall. Some rooted for the man whose black hair fell over his forehead, one side of his rumpled shirt hanging loose, his tie hung precariously from around his neck, but his disheveled state couldn't mask the singular determination in his eyes to punch the living daylights out of his opponent. The fury was as evident as the alcohol in the bar.

The other one wore a smirk that matched the way his neatly pressed shirt remained tucked into his trousers, the sleeves neatly folded over tanned forearms. The hands were rough, his jaw locked tight to resemble the will in his eyes to meet every punch on equal ground.

Excitement in the air was palpable, and Tej – the usually kickass, brave girl, cowered and was getting swallowed by the enthusiastic crowd. She struggled to break apart the two mad men fighting over a girl, with zero results. The two didn't care who they kicked out of their way as long as they could beat each other to pulp.

Whoever said distance makes the heart grow fonder didn't know shit about either the distance or the heart.

The two grown men, who were inseparable through childhood - shared girlfriends, taught each other to smoke, got drunk and wasted together, were fighting over someone who had clearly made her choice.

As they exchanged punches, both bloodied up, and panting heavily, their feet crunched broken glasses, the tables turned, the chairs toppled. Soon, from their places on the floor, they squinted up to find the cops looking bored and significantly pissed off at having to come disrupt a fight between a couple of morons.

Inspector Godbole narrowed his gaze at the two men locked inside the cell.

"One more punch from either of you, I'll book a case against both. Court or bail out – decide," he warned.

Varun and Shiv ignored the officer; they were too busy glaring at each other. Godbole cranked his wooden stick against the metal bars. That got their attention.

"There is a woman waiting to grant you bail," he said not looking at anyone in particular.

Varun smirked. Shiv looked indifferent. He walked to the wooden bench in the corner and sat, resting his back against dirty brown walls of the cell.

"Good. Then what's the delay, officer. Tej is here to pay my bail," said Varun confidently.

He knew she wouldn't let him rot in the cell. Naina wouldn't hear of it. The thought of breathing the same air as his prison mate was nauseating for him.

"We'll see. She wants to talk to you both first," informed officer Godbole.

"Both?" Varun snorted. "She doesn't even know this lowlife exists."

"Careful!" growled Shiv, his eyes darkening.

"She is here for me, Officer. You might as well prepare the bail papers." He turned to look at his ex-friend. "He... deserves to stay locked up." He wiped the blood trickling down his nose with the back of his hands, his eyes shooting daggers at the way Shiv lounged uncaringly across the bench.