Khizer’s POV:
Fuck.
My phone pressed to my ear, I rush out of my office.
“Sir?” My secretary asks worriedly.
“Where’s Saleem?” I ask hurriedly.
“I don’t know, he’s probably with-”
“Call him.” I snap. Another scream erupts from my phone. “Tell him to come to the car.”
I run out of the room and towards the elevator, almost punching the elevator buttons.
But it’s not enough. Me running to the car, screaming at Saleem to hurry up, even driving out of the parking lot myself isn’t enough. Because with every single second Mansha’s screams increase, each one more pained and tortured then the last.
I have the call muted and on record, and thankfully the attacker hasn’t found out that her phone is still on call.
My heart lurches when I hear a male scream, instead of Mansha. But then Mansha screams again and my heart drops into my stomach, and doesn’t come back up.
“Tell Ahsan to call the doctor, and ask if we can use his place.”
“Yes sir.” I take a sharp right, just before the light turns red.
“You have your gun loaded right?”
Everything is silent on the other end, and it’s making it difficult for me to concentrate. At least her screams told me she was alive.
“Yes. Sir please put your seat belt on, you’re driving way too fast.”
“Give me your hand gun.” I press the speed gear further, twisting and turning across cars. My company is twenty minutes away from her house, and I curse the distance for the hundredth time in the span of a few minutes.
“Sir-”
“Just fucking give it Saleem. I’ll go in, you bring the car behind me ok? We need to take her to the doctor. There’s probably a first aid kit somewhere in the back seat, take it out and keep it ready for her. And keep your gun ready. Just about anyone can be in there.”
“Yes sir.”
If Mansha is silent, it might also be that whoever attacked took her with him. The thought makes me grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white, and I push the speed gear even further.
“Sir, Ahsan said he’ll meet us at the intersection.”
The next ten minutes are hells worst punishment. It takes everything in me to not speed drive my way into her buildings parking lot, and instead drive slowly and carefully to the buildings front, to avoid suspicion, just in case some of the men are outside the building, keeping an eye out.
I pick up my phone and get out, heart pounding loudly in my ears. I glance down at the still ongoing call then at Saleem.
The only hope I have is that if they had kidnapped her, they wouldn’t have left her phone behind, or would’ve at least cut the call.
“Give it a minute, then drive in casually ok? Say you’re here to see Mr. Haseeb.”
Saleem jumps into the driving seat and nods.
I scan my surroundings before walking towards the basement.
The moment I turn the curve and am hidden from view of the entrance, I sprint.
I run down into the parking lot, gun clutched tightly in my hand.
The entire place is silent, no one in sight. And then I see it.
A green file, spread out with the papers strewn. I walk towards it at a brisk pace, eyes searching the entire area.
They land on even more files, up ahead, between two cars.
I run this time. I’m contemplating bending down to pick them up when my eyes find ???.
There, after a few more cars parked behind the ones I’m standing between, is her. On the ground.
I run to her, breath caught, torn between being thankful she hasn’t been kidnapped and fearful that she’s dead.
I drop down beside her, into the pool of blood, and check her pulse.
It’s slow, but it’s there. She’s gripping a knife in her hand, and her white lawyers suit is now red with her blood.
I craddle her head in my hand, then slip my other arm behind her knees, plucking her into my arms just as the car slides into the parking lot.
My blood freezes when I feel warm blood drench my clothes. But it’ll be outright foolish to lay her down here and stop the blood. Anything could happen, it’s almost lucky no one came and finished her off already. But I’m not surprised, either.
This is Mansha they were talking about.
Cradling her closer to myself, I walk as fast as I can to the car, her limp form almost weightless in my arms.
Saleem opens the door for me, and we both turn Mansha over before sliding her into the backseat, face down.
I crawl in behind her, sitting on the car floor. Saleem gets into the driving seat, and we zoom out of the parking lot.
“The first aid kit sir.” He hands it to me.
I open it, taking out the scissors first. I cut open her coat, blood soaking my hands the moment I touch the cloth.
I tear it away, her now bloody red shirt in full view. The wound is in her lower back, but I still can’t see how severe it is. Carefully, I start chopping away her ?????, cutting it all through her lower back.
My heart clenches when I see the condition of her back. I wasn’t expecting any less, but I need to see the wound clearly in order to decipher the severity of the situation.
Taking a large wad of cotton, I start to wipe out the blood surrounding her wound.
Straining my neck, I take in how deep the wound is.
“Mother fucker. SALEEM CAN YOU PLEASE DRIVE FASTER?” Picking up my phone, I punch in Ahsans number, simultaneously shrugging out of my own coat. The kit doesn’t have a large enough bandage for this shit, and I am NOT surprised.
“Ahsan. Are you with the doctor?” I fold my coat a few times before pressing the thickest part to the wound.
“Yes Sir.”
“Then give the fucking phone to him.” I bite out, wrapping the sleeves around her waist carefully. But it’s still not tight enough.
Pressing on the wound with one hand, I check her pulse with the other. It’s fast. It’s extremely fast.
“Sir? How severe is it?”
“Deep. It’s so fucking deep and the blood isn’t stopping.”
It’s all over her, all over me, all over the fucking car.
“Is she awake?” The car takes a sharp turn, causing me to lose my balance and Mansha’s body tips over. I reach out for her, catching her before her head hits the floor.
“No.” I grunt out, laying her back up.
“She needs to be awake sir, she’ll have an extreme concussion otherwise.”
“I’ve been trying to stop the blood.”
“Shit. How far are you? Can you reach the house on your own? I’ll go ahead and get everything ready for her.”
“Be my guest. SALEEM FASTER.” I cut the call, increasing the pressure on her wound.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the miniature fridge, I open it with my teeth, then bend down near her pale face and whisper her name.
It’s the only warning I give before I splash cold water on it.
Nothing happens. I press harder on her wound.
I don’t know how long the car ride lasts, or how many times I shout at Saleem, and in what different ways I try to stop the bleeding.
It has stopped by the time we reach the house, and so has my breath. Ahsan helps me take Mansha out, and we put her face down on the stretcher, rushing her into the house.
The moment Dr. Asif sees her, the first thing he’s shouts is that she needs a blood transfusion immediately.
Except for him and another assistant doctor, there’s no one else, so me, Ahsan and Saleem get to work.
Doctor Ahsan connects the IV to her, and for a few minutes, we all just stand there, waiting for her blood pressure to level out.
“We can’t have the operation before then.” Dr. Asif mumbles.
A tight feeling grips me. “Any internal injuries?”
He rubs his face. “The most I can hope is that it’s not an organ. The scans will be coming in a while.”
I stare at Mansha. I feel so fucking useless right now, seeing her limp form, knowing she might die, and still just standing there.
“What are her chances of survival?”
“I’d say a 35.” Sirens go off in my head, and I stare at the doctor.
“It would’ve been a 15 if you hadn’t been successful in stopping the blood. Even now her blood pressure is the half of it. If none of her organs are damaged, I can operate on her here, otherwise we’ll have to take her to the hospital.”
That’s probably the last thing she wants.
And it isn’t safe either.
×××××××××
I pace around the room, eyes on Mansha. It has been half an hour now, and her blood pressure is still not back up.
Lying there so limp and fragile is so unlike her. I’m continuously expecting her to just sit up straight and glare at all the machines around her.
She’ll shoot out of the bed and be like, “I’m late for my hearing, what were you thinking bringing me here?”
But she just lays there, and I keep walking.
×××××××
It’s been an hour now.
Saleem said her phone keeps ringing.
Ahsan said one of our men picked up Mansha’s belongings before the building residents found out.
Unsurprisingly, the cameras there weren’t working.
Dr. Asif says we’ll give her a half an hour more, if her blood pressure still hasn’t come half way up, then she doesn’t have a chance.
The knife just barely missed her lungs.
××××××
Five minutes before the half an hour is over.
Her blood pressure is almost normal now. Dr. Asif is preparing for the operation, he said she’ll need more blood after it, but they don’t have any more stored.
She’s B+.
I said I’ll give mine, so the assistant is checking me for infections.
I’m O-.
The operation is about to start, and all I can do is sit and wait, hoping against hope I get a chance to lose my blood to her.