Arranged or love?

Chapter 21: Aftermath

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Adam’s POV

She had passed out five minutes later, her arm was wrapped around mine and her face was buried in my shoulder, her tense form was for the time being relaxed. I closed my eyes briefly as panic surged inside me at the thought of losing her; I couldn’t lose her. I saw Adnan staring at us with an unreadable expression on his face, his gaze wasn’t hostile nor was it warm. It was neutral. He was assessing the situation, assessing the closeness between his sister and myself, our eyes connected through the rear view mirror. 

He nodded at me through it and focused on the road ahead. I gently reached for my phone in my jean pocket and sent a quick text to Jack to keep me updated. Those bastards would be going away for a long time. They weren’t going to get away with what they did to her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. It was his mistake to have left her after that mind blowing make out session earlier, he was just too afraid of saying something that would frighten her.

She seemed so fragile, so delicate, so weak and defeated and he wanted nothing more than put a smile on her face. The car slowed down and I looked out of the window to see that we had pulled up to Adnan’s house. I gently eased out of Zubaida’s hold of my arm and slowly exited the car and made my way over to her side. Opening the door, I whispered her name hoping she would wake up but she seemed to be in a deep slumber; the events of the day had taken a toll on her and her mind and body were exhausted. I carefully and gently eased my arms under her knees and back, gently pulling her out and carrying her bridal style in the house. 

Rahim and Adnan watched me wide eyes, it takes a lot of guts for men to come near their sister but I wasn’t must men and I didn’t give a damn. I was already on edge and raised my eyebrow at them, silently asking if they asked a question. Rahim’s gaze hardened and Adnan wore the mask of neutrality again. I made my way to the door, it was yanked open just as I reached the porch. A worried and tearful Lyba an equally stressed Ali and Ruksana were stood behind her.

Lyba opened her eyes but a shake of my head was all she needed as a warning to keep quiet, and she quietly stepped aside, I didn’t bother with greetings and carefully carrying the fragile doll like angel in my arms up to her bedroom. The entourage following closely, but silently. 

I placed her in her bed, reaching down to take her shoes off, she stirred and whimpered and we all stood frozen like statutes, our eyes glued to her restless form. Her sleeve had rose up and I saw red when I saw the purplish/blue bruise on her delicate wrists matching the angry bruise on her jaw. My jaw clenched and I began counting backwards from a hundred, breathing deeply to control my anger that was bubbling at the surface and was going to spill over at any time. 

“Get some ice please” I whispered to Lyba, she nodded and rushed downstairs as Ruksana moved carefully to sit on the bed beside her and took her hand in her own, mindful of the bruises. I sat on the edge of the bed on the other side, my eyes trained on her face, her bruise and her creased brow. Lyba came back and handed me a tea towel with ice in it. I took it and placed it gently on her jaw, she flinched at the cool contact and twitched but then settled down.