Kidnapped Wali Girlfriend #YourStoryIndia

Chapter 16 Not A Salman Khan Fan

I posted a new story "My Amnesic Lover." Please check it out if you have time <3

Chapter 16 - Not A Salman Khan Fan

Shravan and I explained to the Thakur how our car broke down and we ended up at his mansion for help.

Unfortunately, the man wasn't fully convinced.

Thakur Singh called the local police to validate our story. It was just mine and Shravan's luck when the police officer he brought back gawked at us.

I felt like I had seen him somewhere before.

"Nerdy!" the burly officer said in a realization.

It clicked suddenly. It was the same guy I slapped and Shravan punched in that pub-club type area we followed Shivani to. He couldn't possibly be a police officer! I grimaced as all hopes of going home today fell down the drain. His name plate revealed his name--Manoj Awasthi. From his evil smile, I knew Shravan and I were done for.

"They're both criminals," Awasthi said.

"What did they do?" Thakur Vijay asked.

"Attack me," Awasthi replied.

"What nonsense," Shravan said. "You don't even know our names. Please show everyone the criminal record you have of me and her."

"Yeah, where's the FIR?" I added. Thakur waited for Awasthi's answers as well, but he appeared at a loss of words. Obviously, the officer had no proof. I still wondered who made him an officer. He could be a fraud. But if I said anything about knowing him, we could get in trouble.

"Do you have the key to their handcuffs, Awasthi?" Thakur Vijay asked.

Awasthi shook his head.

Thakur Vijay Singh dismissed the officers from his mansion.

I glanced at Shravan whose eyes rested on our handcuffs. Neither one of us knew how long we were going to be tied together.

"It's dinner time," Thakur said. "I'll get someone to help break the cuffs tomorrow. Sorry, but you'll have to spend the night like this." I tried not to show my disappointment. The village head yelled for dinner to be served and gestured us to join him. We were his guests today.

Dinner was a loud affair.

Our host was really trying to learn more about us. I stared at Thakur's gold, which was undoubtedly fake. My mother had a gold obsession so I knew what was real and what was not. I didn't trust people who wore fake gold.

Shravan gave curt responses to his questions.

"So, what exactly were you both doing at the Haryana-UP border?" Thakur Vijay asked.

"We were on a long drive," I answered.

Pratimaji served both Shravan and I a glass of water. I gulped down mine quickly, but he didn't. He took a sip and handed it back. Thakur and his wife blinked at him.

"Anything wrong?" Thakur asked.

"Sorry, it's just me. The normal water in India has a weird taste, so I stick with bottled or mineral water," Shravan explained. These foreigners and their issues.

Our hosts nodded and exchanged a glance. I felt something weird going on but ignored it. Maybe they were just offended by Shravan. Who knew? Anyways, we were told the guest bedroom was ours for the night. Due to the handcuffs, we couldn't be in separate rooms, not that these people knew of our marital status.

My head began pounding by the time we entered the room. Shravan lingered in the doorway, exchanging a couple of words with the sarpanch (village head). I leaned against the door from the day's exhaustion.