١٢(Twelve)

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height


Zoha dared to raise her head slightly, to peek out the now shattered window and she saw a black land cruiser revving dangerously close to the tail of their jeep. She saw a man with his head stuck out the window, face covered and gun in hand.

"They're going to kill us!" Zoha looked at the man who seemed way too calm for this kind of situation. The only reason she knew he was tensed was the way his jaw was clenched. His eyes darted everywhere, knuckles griping the wheel so tight, they had turned white.

"Listen carefully," He jerked the jeep again and she yelped. "When I stop this jeep I want you to run."

"What?" She shrieked again as another bullet sounded.

"They want me alive or dead and they won't care who's with me. And we can't lead them back to Umaan." He explained impatiently. Her swerved the jeep around, putting a white car between them and their pursuers. The shooting had stopped since she could see the outline of buildings but they were still on their tails.

"Get ready," He narrowed his eyes as the jeep thudded over a cobblestone path and twisted around a corner so fast that the car behind them had no chance of turning with them, passing them. The roads were getting narrow and small alleyways interconnected here and there. They were filled with little children playing and festivities were being hold for Eid, a hubbub formed.

In other words, it was the perfect place to blend in.

"Go, go, go," He swung his own door open and Zoha flung her own, scattered hundreds of shattered glass all over the pavement from the broken window. They glittered like diamonds and clung to her. Zoha ignored them though, breathe stuck in her throat as she kept close to him.

Ali's hand slipped into hers and he led her urgently through the crowd, blending perfectly with their own dressed up attire. The air was filled with laughter and music, and odd contrast against their own situation.

"Do you think we lost them?" She heaved out, gasping for breathe. Her head spun, her lungs demanded more oxygen, and her heels really wren't quipped for running.

"No," Ali's eyes snapped to the black cruiser that parked behind his own jeep. The two men got out, keeping their masks on, but hiding their guns. Zoha followed his gaze and the terror returned.

His steps became more brisk as he shoved through the crowd. His eyes sought a barn that held horses and a donkey or two. It was a two story structure, the second floor most likely holding hay. Eyes searching, he quickly led them inside.

The first scent that hit her nose was of manure and hay. An odd and absolutely horrid mixture. Her nose scrunched but she didn't say anything. The stables were all filled with horses that neighed at their presence. His grip was still tight on her hand as he led her up the stairs. Thankfully, the area was completely deserted. Whoever this barn belonged to, wasn't here to notice the intruders.

"I think we'll be safe here," Ali let go of her, bounding toward the makeshift window. He could see the crowd below but no sign of the two men.

Zoha's legs gave up on her and she lay on the hay, feeling woozy. The bullet's echoes were still replaying in her head, and she felt like she might throw up any second. She had never gone through anything like this. Ever since she had been kidnapped, she had gone through one emotional roller-coaster after another and it was taking the life out of her.

If this continued for longer, she was going to die of a heart attack.

Zoha slipped off her damned heels, wishing she had opted for flats. Her feet were red and blistering, proof of how much they were aching. The glass had pierced through the material of her dress, clinging to them, and some had even gone as far as to her skin. She slowly raised the dress slightly and found them glistening like diamonds, embedded onto the skin on her legs, Blood was dotted here and there.

"Oh Allah," She whispered to herself. There was only so much her body could take.

Ali had his back to her, eyes on the crowd. His whole body was coiled, tensed. His mind whirled. He had no attention to the girl that sat behind him, instead his whole being waiting for some other attack.

After about five agonizing long minutes, he noticed that the cruiser had started up again, revving back and racing down the narrow road. He let out a breathe he hadn't realized he had been holding. They were gone.

Giving one last look, he turned around and found Zoha staring at nothingness, keeping still. The logical part of him was cursing him for even doing all of this, for agreeing to her petty demands. How could he be swayed by a minuscule women?

He walked towards her but she didn't give notice, her eyes glazed over. He crouched down in front of her, eye level.

"Hey," He snapped in front of her eyes and she blinked. "You okay?"

Zoha stared into the stormy blues eyes, trying to get herself together. "I think I'm going into shock." Her lips hardly moved as she spoke.

Ali knew that feeling. It was something he had felt the first time he had fired a gun which had actually hit flesh. He had been thirteen. His whole system had failed that day. Once he had gone home he had collapsed, not feeling, not thinking, for an entire day.

"Hey, hey," Ali didn't know what made him, but he came forward, gripping her face in his hands. "Look at me." He tried to keep him voice leveled. "Come on Hurayrah, I can't have you shutting off on me." He gave her a light shake.

"It's too much," Zoha broke out. She didn't dare look away from his eyes. They were the color of the sky, a beautiful cloudless sky. Somehow they seemed to be keeping her anchored.

"I know," Ali sighed. "Deep breathes. Take deep breathes."

Zoha tried to do what he said. She inhaled a deep rattling breathe and forced it out. She did it again, and then again and again.

"That's it," Ali spoke quietly. "Come on."

Zoha's world was slowly stopping to swirl, and she was beginning to get control of her own body. The numbness was leaving, and she could feel her hands, her face, and her legs which were beginning to sting.

She blinked, finally registering the hands that held her face. They were rough but warm against her skin and she shuddered.

Ali let go of her slowly, watching her intently. He crouched back into position, waiting for her to react in some way. He studied her, from the windswept hair to the tattered dress and the reddened feet. Despite being disheveled, she looked...nice. The midnight blue color complimented her skin lovingly.

Not really the best time to be checking her out, a voice whispered in his mind.

Ali cleared his throat.

Zoha slowly shifted, cheeks flushing at her hopeless behavior. She never did like being a damsel in distress, and yet that's exactly what she had become.

"Are they gone?" She finally rasped out.

He nodded. "Yes, but we'll have to wait, just in case they come back."

She nodded, the slight stings in her shins and thighs making her focus back on her legs. Ali noticed the way she tensed, hands going to her legs.

"What's wrong?" He immediately asked.

She shook her head, trying to wave it off but he knew better.

Not caring about ethics, when did he ever care about that, he lifted the hem of her dress and she protested but couldn't really move him away.

His eyes went over the shimmering, lethal pieces of glass that stuck to her skin like some gruesome jewels. He held in his breathe and raised the hem higher, not even thinking about what he was doing, other than the fact that they stretched all the way up.

"Stop!" She finally spoke up, yanking the fabric away from his hands. Her cheeks flushed in both anger and embarrassment.

"Those have to be taken out," He ignored her disbelief. He was much too accustomed to women's skins to be affected by this much. He had seen much more. Had done much more.

He could see the protests clear in her eyes.

"If they're in there for much longer they'll cause infection," He continued simply.

Zoha didn't like the sound of that.

"And how are you going to take them out?" She was afraid to ask.

He suddenly got up without a word and disappeared down the stairs before she could comprehend anymore. He returned a few minutes later with a wooden pail and dark blue cloth. He set it in front of her before digging into the back of his pocket.

He pulled out a pocketknife.

"Oh no wait," with great force she tried to scoot back. "That is so not sanitary."

"It's better than the glass stuck on your skin." He raised an eyebrow. "I just want to help."

"Can you take me to an actual doctor?" She was desperate and that knife was making her uncomfortable.

"You're forgetting yourself, Hurayrah ," His eyebrow arched even higher.

Zoha's heart sank. If course. He was her kidnapper. She was a prisoner. He wasn't about to take her to some doctor.

But letting him do this would mean exposing skin. Skin she wasn't comfortable exposing to the likes of him.

"I'm not a pervert, Zoha," He rolled his eyes at the expression on her face.

Something jolted inside her. This was the first time he had said her name. His lips shaped the word as it though her name was an endearment, sending a tingle throughout her body.

Bad Zoha.

Swallowing, she prepared herself for the pain that was to come as she raised her dress an inch. A part of her, the girly part, thanked Allah that she had had the sense to shave.

"This is going to sting a bit," He warned and Zoha turned her face away, shutting her eyes.

The knife dug out the first shard and her muscles tensed. It wasn't the worst pain out there, but it was still bad.

He worked in a quiet rhythm, murmuring words about her progress. With every minute, the dress inched up higher to her complete display. As he worked around her knee she dared to look at him.

The dimmed room did little to hide his sooty eyelashes or high cheekbones. His lashes brushed on his upper cheekbones. His roman lips were set in a cupid's bow. A stray lick of hair hung over his head, kissing his brow.

Sometimes Zoha forgot just how mesmerizing he was. But when she did, like now, it kind of saddened her to see such beauty wasted on such a corrupt personality. An odd combination.

His hand suddenly grazed her bare thigh, feeling cool water trickle over her skin. She yelped at the sudden contact, shuffling away.

He looked at her mutely.

Cheeks blazing with heat, she eyes the cloth he was holding. "I can do that myself." Her voice was strained.

He gave it to her without protest, standing up himself and turning his back to her.

"Hurry. We're leaving in two minutes." He put away his pocketknife, rubbing a hand through his hair.

Zoha washed away the last of the blood hurriedly before dripping the rag and wobbly getting up.

Ali turned back around when he knew she was done. He silently signaled for them to go and she slipped back on her heels despite her feet protesting.

Below, the festivities were in full swing. The alleys decorated, people wearing colorful clothes, children running around. Zoha couldn't help but eye the caramel popcorn, stomach waking up.

But Ali was walking fast and they passed the food stands. They passed through the alley from which they had gotten here and the jeep was still there.

Ali eyes the mess in the passenger's seat. No time to clean it up. Opening the driver's side, he signaled her to get in.

Zoha blinked. "I'm going to drive?"

He shook his head. "The passenger seat is filled with glass and we can't clean it up."

She was confused.

He sighed. "We don't have time. Get in."

She walked over and got in, the steering wheel a bit too far away for a proper grip. He had been right though, the passenger seat was filled with tiny pieces of glass.

She suddenly felt Ali's presence near her, his chest was pressed against her left shoulder as he shut the passenger door.

"Um," Zoha cleared her throat. He was so close his breathe swayed the hair near her ear.

He only responded with a grunt. His hands were suddenly pulling her up as he took her seat before sitting her back down. One of her leg was hitched over his own, the other near her. She was practically sitting halfway on his lap.

"Ali," She spoke. Why had the jeep gotten so hot?

"It's the only way unless you want to be pierced by glass again. And for heaven's sake," His voice lowered. "Don't move."

She stayed stiff as a board through the whole ride. Their destination seemed to take forever to reach with Zoha being able to count every breath he took. The smell of his surrounded her, a mix of the forest and fresh leather.

When they finally got the the bunker, they were met with a group of men.

Zoha couldn't have been more relieved. Once he opened the door she shuffled over him to get out, inhaling a deep breathe.

"Agha!" One of the men came forward. "Are you alright? What happened?"

The men seemed to surround him, and she watched in mild fascination. They crowded around him like wolves would with their alpha.

"There was an attack," His voice was loud and clear and murmurs broke throughout the men.

"Sheik's men?" Burhan stated more than asked.

Ali nodded and some type of communication passed between them. He suddenly realized that the brunette of his stood close by and he looked at her. She stood awkwardly to the side, looking ready to collapse.

"Tell Urma to get her inside," He said to no one in particular. One of the men shuffled off and Urma returned less than a minute later, whisking her away.

Ali turned to his men.

"We have work to do."

***

Hello lovelies! It's been a while hasn't it? But well..life has been chaotic. Hope you guys likes the update! Please do let me know what you think about it. Also, Arabic is not my first language so if I make some type of mistake please tell me. 

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net