With the phone to her ear, Rachel absentmindedly scanned the admissions folder on the old desktop situated in the Student Council room. Finding Narong's record had been easy, it was Rawat's that was proving difficult to find. Suppressing a yawn, Rachel glanced at the watch. It was far too early in the morning for the Student Council members to start showing up. Though it afforded her the privacy she required, she had been forced to ditch her friends. Hell would freeze over before Marisa got out of bed earlier than required.
"Hello," answered Monica sleepily.
Rachel smiled, "Hi, Monks. I am already in uni. I had a few things to prepare for the Student Council so I came over early. You and Mars will have to book a cab. Also, could you please bring some breakfast for me?"
"Sure," replied Monica with a yawn. "But Rache, will you be able to come for the debate club meeting today? It's the last for this semester."
Rachel made a face and shook her head. "I don't think I can. You and Mars will have to deal with yourselves."
Monica frowned, "Ok, but don't allow P' Day to overwork you."
Rachel was scrolling down when an entry caught her eye. Blinking, she read it again. Niam had been right, she had to let the boys know.
"I will call you later. Leave my breakfast in my locker if you don't find me in the Student Council room."
Puzzled, Monica scratched her head. "Whatever do you mean?"
The line went dead. Staring at the phone in her hand, Monica bit her lips. Something was going on. She could sense it even if Rachel was not forthcoming. She battled for a moment with the desire to relay this information to her father and Rachel's need for privacy. Finally, she let it go. If by tomorrow, Rachel failed to confide in her, she would set her father's minions digging.
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"Check if the microphone is attached securely,"instructed Danish in a concerned voice. "It must remain out of sight at all times."
Milan adjusted the said mic concealed behind his layered shirt. "Relax man, we are as ready as we'll ever be."
Niam frowned, "Be careful. Narong is as dangerous as Rawat is. I have set up numerous cameras along the periphery. No matter which way you stand, you will be visible onscreen in the van hidden behind the alley."
"Was it wise?" asked Rachel glancing around uneasily. "It's well past 8pm, most of the students have already left and this alley usually remains deserted. We should have chosen another location to set up this meeting."
Milan rolled his eyes in exasperation. "The meeting time and location were dictated by Narong. I could not disagree lest he gets suspicious."
Danish patted Milan's back. "All the best, buddy. Be safe. We will rush back to you as soon as we get Narong's confession on tape."
Milan grinned as he lounged against a graffiti covered wall, "Sure, I have this."
Danish nodded before gesturing to Niam and Rachel. "Come along. Narong should be here any minute now."
As his friends disappeared, the smile fell off Milan's face. He nervously let out a breath, steadying himself.
Soon he could hear several footsteps entering the dilapidated alley. Narong had brought reinforcements. Never mind, he was well prepared.
With a mini entourage of ugly looking thugs following behind, Narong came into view. Taking in his tormentor's face, he frowned. "Why am I not surprised it is you?"
"So the minion is here without his master."
Narong stiffened at the insult. "Either you are incredibly brave or rather foolish, to think you are in a position to taunt me."
Milan let out a husky laugh, "Come on. Do you think I came here unprepared? I have several videos of you harassing Kris. If I am unable to safely return to my room, the videos will be automatically uploaded to the university website."
Cold sweat beaded Narong's forehead. "You are lying!"
"It is up to you to take that risk. Should those videos come out, it will be detrimental to you. Rawat will hardly be implicated. Do you think he would help you then?"
Narong hesitated. If what P' Milan said was true, he was in deep trouble.
Milan watched the warring emotions in Narong's eyes. Just a tiny push would be enough to topple Narong's remaining self-confidence.
Milan let out a provocative whistle. "So, the hunter has become the hunted. Handover the money."
Narong punched the air in frustration before taking out the envelope from his jacket and tossing it at Milan.
"I don't care what enmity exists between you and my cousin. Just take the money and keep your trap shut. I should have never involved myself in Rawat's nefarious schemes. Help me take revenge on P' Milan, he told me. And I shall reward you with riches beyond your dreams."
Milan caught the envelope smoothly, though his face paled considerably. "What does Kris have to do with me? Rawat could have come at me straight."
"That's not how he works. He wishes to torment you through your mentee, the one you are supposed to support and guide. He has already done the same to P' Danish."
Milan was stumped. "So, you mean Patty's incident was not an accident?"
Narong shook his head wryly and let out a short laugh. "Worked, didn't it? There is an unrepairable rift between P' Danish and his mentee now. Unfortunately, Rawat's name was brought up in all this mess. So now he has chosen to remain in the shadows."
"You had the video of Kris's confession. Why did you choose to blackmail him instead of releasing it?"
Narong chuckled with delight, "Rawat decided it would be far more enjoyable to bed him before destroying him."
Milan fisted his hands in anger. "That goes beyond petty revenge."
"Nothing is petty for Rawat. Even though you have chosen to take the money and walk away. Kris will be paying for your deeds. How will you face your mentee after we are done with him? How will your conscience allow you to live in peace?"
"My conscience is hardly your concern," stated Milan with gritted teeth.
Narong enjoyed the flash of temper in Milan's eyes. Amused, he studied his enemy's growing discomfort. It was then that he noticed the mic sticking out from under Milan's shirt.
"It's a setup. Kill him!" shrieked Narong before dashing away.
Milan barely had time to follow Narong's line of sight. Seeing the dislodged mic, he swore profusely even as he swung his arms at the nearest goon.
Danish and Niam raced to the sounds of fighting, intent on rescuing their heavily outnumbered friend. They punched and kicked their way through the goons that were still attacking an unconscious Milan. Rachel arrived not long after with paramedics in tow.
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Niam stormed into the Student Council Room, his clothes wrinkled and eyes bloodshot from having spent the night on an unyielding chair in the waiting room of the hospital they had rushed Milan to. Without a word, he tossed a pendrive on P' Day's desk.
Surprised at Niam's brash behaviour, Day rose from his chair. "What is the meaning of this, Niam?
"Evidence that proves Luke's innocence while incriminating Narong and his cousin Rawat," stated Niam flatly.
"What does Rawat have to do with all this?" asked Day incredulously.
Grim faced, Rachel got up from her seat. "Allow me to explain. But first, could you please send for Luke."
Day nodded at the only other student council member in the room with them. "Fetch Luke from his class."
"Where would I find him?" asked the boy perplexed.
When Rachel raised her brows at him, he quickly picked up his bag and stumbled to the door. "Never mind, I will look up his class schedule."
Once the boy had made his hasty exit, Day looked at the duo before him. "Now, why do you need privacy to talk to me?"
Rachel fidgeted nervously. "The thing is that Kris is gay and he isn't ready as yet to come out of the closet."
Day frowned, "Why is that our concern?"
Niam scowled, "It wouldn't be if Rawat and Narong had not been blackmailing Kris."
Day's face hardened and his eyes turned stone cold. "I am all ears. Tell me the whole story from the beginning."
Niam and Rachel glanced at each other. Rachel shook her head in disagreement and pursed her lips.
Niam raked his fingers through his dishevelled hair. "It all began when Danish suspended Rawat from the Swimming Club."
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Danish ground to a halt as Monica suddenly blocked his way. Taken aback, he took in her wintery eyes and determined expression. She reminded him of a feral wild cat that he had once encountered in his misspent youth. That had been one encounter, whisper thin white scars on his chest had never allowed him to forget.
"Where is Rache?" she demanded. "It has been two full days since Mars or I have even seen her. She didn't return to her apartment last night and her phone is switched off. Tell me what you know before I inform her father."
Danish swallowed hard. This cat sure had sharper claws. "She was helping us gather evidence against Rawat and Narong but.."
"Rawat and Narong? I haven't heard anything about them!"
Danish rolled his eyes. "We asked Rachel to keep it a secret. It would be better if she explained it to you as it's a long story. The only thing I ask in return is that you keep it to yourself."
Monica pursed her lips and reluctantly nodded.
Exhausted, he let out a sigh. "Rachel and Niam are in the Student Council Room at the moment. She must be very tired as she spent the night waiting with us in the hospital whilst Milan was receiving treatment in the ER."
The colour drained from her face. "What happened to Milan?"
He grimaced, "Narong's goons attacked him. He was severely injured. He has a fractured rib, a sprained wrist and a heavily bleeding head injury that thankfully turned out to be a minor concussion."
"Which hospital is he in?" She asked urgently.
"Saint L," replied Danish. "Once they shifted him to a private room, we came back to uni."
Monica whipped out her phone. "I am going to see him. Can you ask Mars to take Rache home?"
"His room no is 304. I can take you there," he offered surprised.
She shook her head in refusal. "That won't be needed. I have already booked a cab."
Noting her trembling hands and shaken expression, Danish nodded thoughtfully. Monica turned on her heels and hurried away.
"Has Monica been hiding something?" He wondered aloud.
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Kiss alert: Dear reader, you are advised to keep your eyes closed and skip over or keep them wide open and savour. The choice is yours.
Monica inhaled sharply as she took in the numerous wires attached to Milan's frail body and the beeping machines surrounding his bed. Unconscious, he lay as stiff as a corpse. His forehead was wrapped in a white gauze and his right wrist was encased in a cast.
"Idiot," she swore viciously. "What were you thinking? Taking on men double your size."
She took out her phone and dialled a number from memory. A number her father had sworn her to use only in an emergency. "Eliminate Rawat and Narong."
There was a knock on the door. A pleasant faced nurse entered with a tray in her hands. "Oh! There is a visitor here. I have come to give the patient a sponge bath."
Monica gestured for her to set down the tray on the overbed table. "Please allow me."
The nurse grinned with pleasure. "Are you the girlfriend then? Never mind, I shall leave you to it."
Monica blushed a deep shade of red but she set her aside her bag and went to wash her hands in the attached washroom.
Returning, she squeezed out the extra water from the sponge and began to gently wipe his arms and neck. Hesitating for a brief moment, she pulled down the blanket to his narrow waist and rolled up the patient gown to wipe his bruised chest and smooth thighs. Covering him up again, she wet the sponge before leaning over to wipe his sleeping face. Her fingers trailed over his cheeks before tracing his lips. Startled by the treacherous thoughts racing through her mind, Monica looked up to find Milan awake. They stared at each other even as their breaths mingled. Finally, Monica leaned down and captured his lips with her own. The shriek of a sudden alarm pulled them apart. A troop of doctors and nurses barged into the room, yelling "Stat!"
Monica studied the ridiculously high heart rate on the ECG Patient monitor as she put down the sponge.
"You have to go," insisted a nurse wheeling in a defibrillator.
Monica nodded and glancing one last time at Milan's flushed face, she quietly left.
Damn, wish i could have been there to see Milan's face too!