Imad had seldom been entrusted with a job as cumbersome as this one. Most of his jobs involved gathering intelligence or on the odd occasion - much to his dislike, he would be ordered to carry out blackmail and hits. Asadullah respected Imad's personal preferences of sticking to pacifistic duties and so would often assign his eager brother, Fahad for these jobs.

Unfortunately, while Fahad enjoyed that area of the field in their line of work, he was not very good at it. Emotions were always difficult for his brother to manage - since they had been little, Fahad had taken the brunt of abuse that came with their drunkard father's presence. Hence, he had become just like him - emotional, erratic, and with a touch of insanity. Imad - despite being younger than a few minutes had learned early on that carrying emotions were like carrying unnecessary baggage and so had remained levelheaded despite facing horrific abuse himself.

"Stop struggling." He muttered for the umpteenth time. "Do you not speak English? Larna band karo. (Stop struggling.)" He knew she did understand English for she had displayed some understanding before, but he had asked it again anyway. Her silence continued to disturb him and so he was trying to coax a word out of her. What a strange woman.

"Your name - Nazli?" Again, he knew the answer to his question. She did not even nod, her eyes wild with vigilance as if planning an escape again. "Give it up. You run - I run faster. You scream - my gun will scream louder."

A tremor passed through her stiff body at his words. This time when he pulled her, she was suddenly more compliant. Imad pointedly avoided looking into her expressive emerald eyes - he always hated the fear he would see in them. Fahad enjoyed that fear, Asadullah was somewhat indifferent to it, but Imad despised it. It reminded him everyday that he was slowly becoming a monster - just like his father.

"A little further now." He reassured, climbing over a rock with his long legs. It appeared to give him a good vantage point, but when he looked down - he watched her struggle to even scale the smallest side of it. Moreover, she was red in the face - as if she was not used to trekking through the mountains which in itself was a strange thing. Unless, it was because of him - he had a habit of walking too fast - even Fahad, who had the same physique as him complained about it. The only person who walked even faster than him was Asadullah.

With a twinge of guilt, he jumped down again beside her. But he masked the feeling under a mask of indifference and cold command. "I am going to lift you up to that rock. Do not try anything. I'll catch you and then you won't like what I will do." It was only a few seconds of a glance towards her, but the enlarging of her eyes made him feel like the worst man in the country. By Allah, he hated exerting his strength even on his enemies. This here was a woman.

When he moved behind her, she scuttled away with a different kind of agitation. For a few moments, Imad watched her with a raised eyebrow trying to figure out what her problem was now. She stared back at him with distrust - as if he was intending on . . . exploiting her.

"You can't be serious." His brown eyes were exasperated with her silly prudish behaviour. She honestly thought he was willing to do that. But of course she did, he suddenly realised. Khalid's sick display of power and lust was imprinted on her mind. Even when Asadullah had leaned in too close, she had been frightened. And here he was thinking this was going to be easy.

"I have no desire to touch you." Green eyes only flittered away with growing panic. "Wallahi."

The emphasis on the promise did not go unnoticed by her. Her facial features relaxed considerably before tentatively stepping closer to the rock. Something fluttered in his heart at the way she stiffly stood facing her back to him. That there was the first time she had trusted him and only Allah knew how much he did not deserve it. Still, it definitely caused some sort of positivity to grow within him.

No longer prolonging her disliked endeavor, he quickly lifted her to the rock. Before she had even stood up, he had climbed up beside her. "Good. We are close." Thank goodness for that, he thought - fighting the urge to powerwalk to the hotel. He could not wait to be free of this task and get a shuteye. Today had been an eventful day and no doubt Asadullah would be simmering with anger. And when Asadullah got angry, blood would spill and Imad hated the sight of it.

But when he had walked a few steps away, he realized with a start that in his train of thought he had forgotten to steer her along. Turning around rapidly, he was surprised to see her standing by the rock - blushing furiously.

"What now?" The hell was this girl's problem? She was quiet like a rabbit and tiny like a mouse. It made him think twice to treat her harshly and Imad didn't like that.

With her index and middle finger she made a walking motion towards the bushes. Then she patted her stomach and pointed towards the bushes again.

His eyebrows shot up in confusion. "Hn? Speak the words - I do not understand."

She glared back at him - the sight of those burning flecks of green sending his heart in an erratic motion. He furrowed his brows - looking at her yet through her and wondering how someone had ever managed to do that to him. Especially someone like this irritating bumpkin.

She did the motion again with the same desperation. Imad was about to retort again for her to speak, but stopped suddenly when the gears in his brain took action. Since the first time, he had seen this girl yesterday up until now she had not said one word. Not even when Khalid had abused her before their very eyes. And now she spoke with signs which meant . . .

His throat was suddenly dry and the quietude of the forest suffocated him. It was one thing to be rough with the weak, but to be rough with a weak, mute woman almost made him send her back. Is this why Khalid had targetted her? Because she would be helpless and unable to call for help? How had he known she was a mute when he had barely acquainted himself with the villagers?

"You want to go to the bushes." He said, ignoring the reoccuring flutter in his stomach when her eyes brightened. She nodded rapidly, her caramel hair glistening in the sunlight and projecting an illusion of a halo over her head. God, she had no business with them. She was innocent. Far too innocent.

"Why?" She patted her stomach and blushed furiously. "Your stomach hurts."

The uncertainty in her eyes told him that this was perhaps not the case. "We are nearly at the hotel. You need to wait till then."

Tears that suddenly erupted in her eyes slapped him with a wave of self-condemnation. He wanted to march over and demand from her how she managed to make him feel a multitude of emotions, but the small droplets of blood he spotted on the rock made him halt with dread.

He had been to medical school and had qualified as a doctor. In his spare time, he was studying to be a cardiologist. The female anatomy was no mystery to him, but this was the first time he had encountered a woman who was bleeding out in front of him. And trying her level best to hide it.

Finally deciding to have mercy upon her and himself, he stiffly nodded - schooling his features to fall flat once more with his upcoming warning. "If you run, I will catch you. And then you will not like what I do."

She nodded eagerly, before tentatively walking behind the bushes. Eagle-eyed, he watched the site for any rapid movement - in case she decided to run, he would need to be quick and levelheaded. Although that was doubtful - this woman was as bashful as a deer. Never before had a journey felt so long as it did now. Why was Asadullah even bothering with this insignificant creature? Clearly, she was not as valuable to the villagers as the feisty blue-eyed one. Khalid had even fucked up on this.

"Hurry up." He warned and was glad when the bushes jumped at his deathly voice. Good, she was still there. Still, he couldn't help, but feel sorry for her. She was evidently embarrassed when she emerged - so red in the face that he was worried she would faint before they reached.

"Walk." Imad was perceptive of the fact that she had definitely stained her clothes. She kept peeking over her shoulder to stare at her long skirt and then would blush furiously when she would catch him looking. He decided to bestow the last of his kindness on her when he walked in front of her. She wouldn't run - she would rather jump off a cliff than to let a man know that she had spotted herself. Silly bashful girl.

"We're here." The grand hotel stared at them - looking out of place next to the small cottages these people lived in. Still, he liked the way her eyes grew in size when she laid eyes upon it. Reading her emotions was extremely easy - a breath of fresh air for him where people seldom showed even a peek of their feelings. It . . . intrigued him. And he knew it had definitely intrigued Asadullah too.

"Follow me." She looked at him confused when instead of heading for the main entrance, he went around the hotel. Then, he entered through the back door of the hotel and led her to an empty room. It was perhaps bigger than the largest room in her tribe - the council room.

"Stay." Nazli glared at his retreating back. She hated this man - and the one from before. What a day it had been for her. First, that monster had kidnapped her and touched her in places no man had ever. Tears rolled down her eyes at the memory and she suddenly wondered if she had become impure. Palwasha always said that if a man touched a girl, she would be impure. Today, three non-mahram men had touched her.

The worst of it all - she had had her period in front of one! She wished then she had died in that accident that occured five years ago. Such embarrassment - and he had definitely seen the large stain on her skirt. Nazli hurried over to the corner of the room which was barren from all the expensive furnishing. Then she folded her legs and sat upon them determinedly. This way no one would see the evidence of her curse.

The door opened again and he walked in as calmly as if he had ownership over the room. Perhaps, this was their hotel? It definitely had a touch of the city even though it was perhaps the biggest building she had ever witnessed with her own eyes.

Imad's eyes lingered on her wet cheeks. Again, he felt as if he was culpable in causing her pain, but this time it was something else. He did not like the fact that she was crying. And he had tried his best to be as accomodating as possible. Had it been Fahad or Asadullah, he doubted she would have received the same clemency.

"Change of clothes." He chucked two hangers containing a green shalwar kameez on the bed. The hotel manager had shown him a wide range of collection of clothes. But the minute he had spotted green, he had picked it from the batch. Her eyes were green was the only reason he gave himself for choosing that color. With slightly pink cheeks, he also dropped a paper bag next to it. "For your . . . uh, problem."

Color exploded on her face at his words and he too struggled to fight the growing heat emerging on his face. This girl was trouble, he thought, suddenly desperate to create distance between himself and her. It had been merely two hours and she had already made him feel things he had buried long ago. Not to mention, he was going out of his way to help her. Why?

"Change and come out. Asadullah will be back soon and he hates waiting."

Finally, he had slammed the door shut behind him. Suddenly he could breathe again. What a troublesome job it had been. What a troublesome girl she was. And all of this was Khalid's fault.