Dedicated to ObssiveFangirl99

Her voice sounds the same except that exhaustion seeps through her voice.
My throat clogs at the momentary comfort her voice provides. My eyes tear up as I realise how much I miss her. I moisten my lips as I speak up,
"Ma..."

But, before I can say anything else I see that man making his way back to me, his head bowed down muttering something to himself.

Dammit!

I put the receiver down, thus cutting the call. I cannot run now. He will see me and get suspicious.

I wait there, at the reception only.

" Ah..?"He looks surprised to see me here.

My brain works in a nanosecond.

I clear my throat as I speak up, "Can you call Basheer for me?"

"Ohh ah yes.Sure! "

As he dials Basheer's number, I gently rub my moist palms on my kameez as I sigh peacefully. I haven't been caught. But it was close. My thoughts take control of me, as I hope my mother would call the police and let them know I am alive. I hope she recognised my voice.

Should I have called my father? He is more level headed.

Before I can ponder anymore Basheer has already arrived, "Let's go."

He must have been nearby.

I nod as I take off my white coat not before asking the receptionist to give it back to Doctor Nizamuddin and follow him down the streets of Sahiwal.

" Was that Dr Nizamuddin's white coat?"He asks anger lacing his voice.

"Dr Nizamuddin was kind enough to lend me his spare white coat as I wanted to start working from today," I reply.

He nods but I can see the slight furrow in his brows and his jaw clenching. His reaction is unexpected.

Making our way through the unknown gravel streets of Sahiwal, I vaguely wonder what she must be doing back in India. Would she call the police? Are they trying to track down the number? (+92) code must have indicated it to be a Pakistani number.

But I called from a landline.

Will (+92) appear?
On our way back home, I notice an ivy plant growing out from the brick walls of a house, some of its leaves dried or plucked off, small ones sprouting out of it at certain regions. It's dilapidated state makes me wonder,

Aren't we both trying to survive?

We reach back home, and as I make my way up the stairs, I hear a voice behind me say,

"Come down for food in 10 minutes."

I nod, stopping once before I continue up the stairs. I use his bathroom again for freshening up. I need his help for changing the bandages.

Perhaps, I can ask that girl. What was her name again?

Ah, Ruksar.

I wash as best as I can before coming down the stairs to the table. His face, as he stares ahead makes me come to a stop. Basheer's face is impassive as he clenches his jaw.

Isn't that usual?

But he wasn't like this when I left him. What caused the sudden change? My eyes shift to his left hand clutching the cellphone tightly enough for his knuckles to whiten.

He knows! He knows! A part of my mind screams.

Terror grips me like a vice hold of a snake. I hold onto the chair to stabilise my already shaking body. Every instinct in my body screams at me to run to the nearest exit.

But where will I go?

You will be shot even before you know.
His warning from the first day rings in my head.

But I feel guilty too.

Guilt?

What for?

I don't have the time to comprehend it as he bolts from his chair, takes my hand in a vice grip and rushes us out of the dining room up the stairs to his bedroom. A thousand excuses whiz through my mind, but nothing stands out.

Will I die now?

Can he kiss me in the morning and kill me at night?

Yes, he can! You are dumbass! Bebakuf aurat!

He leaves my hand, closes the door and stares at me with those hard eyes.

"Who did you call today?"

He knows. He knows! How?

"What are you talking about? Are we not going to eat? I am still hungry." I say trying to sound innocent. When you don't know what to say, refusing is the only best thing to do. At least, I get to live a little longer.

Do they value honesty? I don't think so. I will be shot as soon as I speak the truth.

He comes close to me as his hands move to my hair in caresses but then, takes my hair in a vice grip and pulls me forward, "Tell me who you called. The police? "

His face darkens as he says the word police as if it's a sin. His eyes darken as he pins me close to his body, our chests touching.

"I told you to behave. Didn't I?" He roars before crashing his lips on mine. His moves are angry. It's not tender and sweet it's him showing me how angry he is.

Push him away.

My hands involuntarily come upon his chest to push him away, but instead of pushing him away, I pull him to me.

Push him away!

He is your enemy.

Dammit!

Push him away.

He is just using you!

My mind keeps on whispering things but my body reacts to him, evident from the moisture accumulating in my pelvic region.

His other hands move down my body touching it in places no one but your lover is supposed to touch. His hardness is evident as it presses against mine. That alone makes me melt in his arms.

He moves us back to the bed as he pulls open the dupatta wrapped around my head letting my hair fall backwards. Next, he pulls the chain on my back exposing my back as he pushes my dress over my head.

My breasts are completely exposed to him as they harden at his touch. I feel vulnerable but safe in his arms. The strange feelings are too much to take in. Strangely although my mind shots, ' 'Enemy', he doesn't feel like one.

Why?

My hands are busy tugging his hair, pulling him to me. His hair feels so soft in my hands.

But then he wrenches his mouth free as he whispers," I should have tamed you before. Turned you into a nice little whore for me. You wouldn't have defied me then. You are easy."

You are easy?

So it's him taming me.

Does he want to. . . make me his whore?

And I thought here, he respected me.

Silly girl! Falling for your enemy?

Falling?
No! No! No! It's just the hormones.

Everything comes apart at that moment and I suddenly feel too cold and vulnerable in my current undressed condition. My eyes tear up as I look up at him. So, that's what it was. My hands immediately retract from his hair as I cover up exposed chest trying to save whatever modesty I have left.

As if he realises, what he just said he moves away from me and sits on his bed, his back facing me.

What was I even thinking?

How could I be so easily swayed?

I hastily put on my frees not once wincing at the pain and drape the dupatta around me as if it could save my remaining modesty. I get up to leave but as I reach the door I turn back to say, "My mother, I called my mother."

"Why?"

I contemplate if I should leave or I should answer him. I decided against the former.

"I was missing her. I saw the opportunity and called her."

Not exactly a lie though. I called her so that she could know I was alive and inform the Indian police so that they could rescue me. But again I do miss her.

" Why?"

"What why? I am not on a bloody trip! I was kidnapped to stitch up bloody motherfuckers and bed terrorists!" I bellow.

His fists clench around bed sheets bunching them, as a vein throbs in his neck.

I should be afraid. He could just shoot me now.

But strangely enough, I am not.

"Do you know what would have happened, had they got to you before me? You were lucky you called me just after calling your mother." He bellows.

How was I lucky?

"How?" I voice out.

" Because I told them I will punish you enough that you wouldn't remember your mother's number."

My eyes widen as I take in what he just said.

"Certainly it worked." I nod disgust dripping out of my voice as something in my chest painfully clenches.

After all, feeling of safety from today morning, was nothing but farce.

"You will not go to the hospital for the next 4 days. You will get your food placed outside your door. And you will meet no one, but me." He barks out, before turning his face away from me.

I nod stiffly, knowing there's no point arguing. So I make my way out of his room not before catching the slight whisk of his perfume. Jasmine and something unknown and forbidden.

Just like him.

Author's Note:

So here it is, new week new chapter.

Translations:

Bebakuf aurat - Stupid woman

Hope you enjoyed it.
Nxt chapter is Basheer's POV. I hope you are waiting for it as much as I am waiting to share it with you guys.

Thank you.