Page 73 of Born in Sin (Phoenix #3)
Chapter Thirty-Nine
VIRAT
He followed the prison guard, one arm around Celi as they walked through the grounds and entered the visitation area.
She looked pale and walked slowly, favouring the side she’d been shot.
The post mortem of that night had been intensive and it had taken a little time, but they’d figured out that the bullet had come from Ashish’s gun.
He’d been aiming for Virat but his aim misfired and he got her instead. Another mark on Virat’s conscience.
They sat down at a scarred metal table near the window and waited.
Majid entered a second later, his gaze going immediately to where Celi sat, her composed face angled towards the entrance.
The guard following him met Virat’s eyes and waited for his nod before he withdrew to shut the door and stand outside it.
Majid came to sit across from her at the table, ignoring Virat’s presence completely, his intense gaze focused only on her.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, his hands shaking slightly as he laid them on the table. He laced his fingers together to still them.
Cara didn’t reply for a moment. Virat leaned back and let her take the lead in this conversation. He was here for support, not for interference.
After a long moment, she spoke. “Why, Majid?”
He flushed, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. “It’s no excuse but they said…” he swallowed convulsively. “Varun said it was either you or my sister.”
Virat’s body jolted as shock slammed through him. Majid’s sister had been in the sixth grade when all this had gone down. The utter bastards.
“I don’t deserve to say sorry but I’m saying it anyway.
” Majid’s hands shook violently and this time Cara reached to cover them with her own.
He stared down at her hand and the tears he’d been valiantly holding back, slid free.
He crumpled, dropping his head to their joined hands and sobbed.
Eventually, he straightened, wiped his eyes and met her gaze again. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“So am I,” she said, the first words she’d spoken since his breakdown. “I’m sorry to see you here.”
He gave a watery chuckle. “I deserve it.”
“You’re doing your best to make it right,” Cara’s voice gentled. “That’s huge, Majid.”
He shook his head. “It’s not enough. None of it is enough.”
“But it’s something.”
He nodded, sniffed. “It’s something,” he said, bitterly.
“Why did you stay in the organization for so many years?” she asked now.
“Organization?” Majid quirked an eyebrow.
“I was trying to be polite and not use cult,” Cara grinned.
Majid laughed, his face lightening as he watched Cara smile. “They wouldn’t let anyone get out. They had something on everybody. As long as I stayed, my sister was safe.” He looked out of the window and to the dry, muddy prison ground outside. “She’s safe now. Forever.”
“I watched your press conference.” He looked down at the table, his finger tracing a name scratched into it. “That was very brave.”
It had been and it had opened the floodgates with women pouring through it, all wanting to tell their story, their secret no longer so scandalous when the country’s biggest star blazed the trail first. Many still hid but each story told to the police under the strictest cover of confidentiality was a cathartic cleansing that was healing and purifying.
A way to leave the past behind under the cover of justice and forge a way forward.
The guard knocked on the door and popped his head in. “Time,” he said, looking only at Virat who nodded in acknowledgement.
Cara and he got to his feet as Majid remained seated, his gaze on the table, as if it was painful to watch her go.
“Goodbye Majid.” Cara’s soft words had his head coming up to meet her gaze.
“Goodbye Celi.” His serious eyes softened as he looked at her. “Be happy.”
She nodded. “I intend to be.”
They were halfway across the room when Cara stopped, turning again. “I’ll be back,” she told him. “We’ll … we’ll talk more.”
Majid’s face lit up like a child who’d been told Christmas would come early. “I’d like that,” he said softly. His gaze went to Virat standing beside her and he added, “I still don’t like you.”
Virat smiled, tipping his head at him. “Likewise.”
They left the prison, lighter of heart and mind.
Virat opened the passenger door to his car and allowed Cara to get in.
They’d made the trip without her security detail, allowing for the hope that if people didn’t expect to see you somewhere, then they didn’t see you at all.
He shut the door and rounded the car to slide into the driver’s seat.
“Now what?” he asked.
Cara rested her head on the headrest and sighed. “Let’s go home. Let’s live our lives. And let’s be happy.”
“Let’s go do that then,” Virat said, putting the car in gear and driving out of the parking lot. “Only, I’m not sure…”
“Sure of what?” she turned her head to look at him.
“I have a feeling your dog is going to bite me in the butt one day,” he said feelingly.
Cara laughed, the unfettered sound of it filling the air, spreading through him and making him feel like he’d conquered the world.
“Let’s go live our lives,” he murmured now, pulling on to the main road and driving off into their future.