His Rage

His Rage
It all happened so fast.
In a flash.
Like a thunderbolt of lightning.
Bullets were being fired.
Loud gunshots.
And a pair of grey eyes came into her vision.
Her wrist was clasped in a calloused hand, and she was being dragged. Long before she
could realize it, she was sitting next to him in the car, which sped over the roads.
Her mind raced with thoughts of what would happen to her now that he had seen her with
Hannan. She was so engrossed in trying to figure things out and so immersed in fear that
she didn’t realize when they reached the haveli. The car was filled with the sound of her
terrified whimpers. The large metallic gates opened as he sped the car into the premises,
parked it with a jolt, and alighted before coming to the passenger door to let her out.
Sheharzaad knew not to set him off, so she quickly unlocked the car and stepped out. Before
she could steady her steps on the floor, she was being dragged all the way from the car to
their room.
The haveli was empty since everybody was at the birthday party.
“Shehryaar… please… listen… please… listen to me,” she sobbed, but he paid no attention.
She could see his eyes shaking with anger, jaw clenched.
He dragged her, but she tried to resist him. “Please… no! Please no!” She began to cry. She
was aware of where things were escalating. As she tried to release her arm from his hold, he
stopped and turned towards her.
She was quick to go on her knees and joined her hands in front of him. “Don’t… don’t… cell…
please…” she shook her head furiously, “cell… don’t take me… to the cell…”
“Don’t worry. This time it will be a place worse than that, Sheharzaad.” The next second, he
grasped her arm and took her to their room.
Her begging, like background music, resonated in her ears, but it fell on his deaf ears.
“Shehryaar… no… I wasn’t involved with him.”
“I don’t know… how he was there.”
“Shehryaar, no… please don’t take me to the cell.”
“Shehryaar… Dua… told… Shehryaar… Dua said that you’d be there… please.”
All her begging was in vain.
She prayed in her heart for him to somehow believe in her innocence. Given the trauma she
had endured, she had lost the ability to defend herself or stand up for herself. She was
worried about explaining the situation to him because she knew all she could do was stutter
in front of him. A stutter and an ambiguous sentence would be her response to his every
question. And it would eventually lead him to believe what he saw at the restaurant. She
was so scared that she thought death was a better option than the fear she carried for him.
And his words.
His menacing words.
Took the soul out of her body, made her short of breath, and told her there was no route
through which she could escape.
“My father never caught my mother red-handed; that is why he is still in his grief, but that
won’t be the case with me, Sheharzaad. I will make each betrayer reach their very end.”
He was shouting.
Going livid.
He saw nothing but red, and the way he was dragging her along with him depicted the anger
coursing through his veins. A pulsating vein had protruded from his temple, manifesting the
anger he had inside him.
It was the last nail in the coffin.
Now was the time for release instead of holding back.
The rage, anger, and frustration he had been carrying within him were now being released
as he grasped her locks.
Scenes ran through his mind where his mother was in that compromising situation with
another man who was not his father.
And he saw her and Hannan in the same situation before his eyes.
His eyes widened in anger, pupils dilating, and he grasped her neck. She immediately pried
his fingers off her neck, and in the process, she fell down. She knew he was going to tighten
his hold around her slender neck.
He began to take furious steps toward her, and she began to slide away from him.
“Please!” she whimpered, joining her hands in front of him. Her voice box was losing its
ability to produce sound. “Please! I don’t… want to… go to the cell.” She was sobbing. Her
body shook with each sob. She felt devastated and broken. Everything was crumbling. The
incidents that had occurred with her in the cell had traumatized her so much that she
couldn’t even entertain the thought of going back to that place. If he so desired, he could
beat her as much as he wanted, but she did not want to go back to that cell. In any case. The
cell had given her bad memories and incidents she never thought could happen to her.
Incidents about which even he was unaware.
Her heart leaped into her throat, wanting to come out of her chest.
The anger and fury on his face—she had never seen it.
His hands.
His hands were shivering with unadulterated rage.
His jaw was clenching, unclenching.
Veins were protruding out of his neck and temple.
His eyes glared at her as if he would kill her with his own eyes.
“I…I—”
“With whose permission did you fucking step out of this haveli?”
She just shook her head left and right vigorously.
“With whose fucking permission?!” he shouted, his hand rolling into a fist.
“No… no,” her lips pouted. She was defenseless. Even her body wasn’t helping her to get out
of this ordeal.
“SPEAK!”
She shrieked, dragging herself further back and pressing her back against the door.
“Please… no cell… please… don’t… don’t chain… please,” she blabbered.
The next second, he grasped her arm in a vice-like grip and made her stand.
Her lower jaw hung open as she tried to say something but couldn’t. She was trembling
inside, shivering badly, stuttering words and clattering her teeth, with tears streaming
down her cheeks.
“Please,” she sobbed.
“FUCKING SPEAK!”
Her entire being jolted.
“Dua… Dua… told me… surprise dinner… told me… dinner… (sob)… and you… you… would
be (sob) there… (sob).”
“You’ve been talking with that bastard,” he waved her phone in front of her, “on this fucking
device,” and he threw it against the wall.