Unedited!!
Reyaksh's Pov:
The sound of the door closing behind her stayed longer than it should have.
For a few seconds, I just sat there... listening to the echo fade into the walls. The smell of haldi and antiseptic still hung in the air, mixed with iron and dust. My arm burned, the wound throbbing in time with my pulse, but pain was familiar. Manageable. What bothered me more was the silence she left behind.
(Turmeric)
I should have told her to leave earlier. I should have never let her touch me.
I looked at the cloth she had used to bandage me. Too neat. Too careful. Someone like her shouldn’t know how to deal with blood, but she did... and that bothered me too.
My eyes drifted to the corner where she had sat , hands shaking slightly while she mixed that ridiculous paste. A strange warmth had crept into the room then, the kind that made everything feel less empty. Now it was gone again, and I could breathe normally. Or at least I told myself I could.
I got up slowly, ignoring the sting in my arm. There were things to do. People to silence. I wasn’t supposed to meet her again, especially not after she already been dragged through.
Now she saw my face and knows me. That’s a problem.
Many questions are swirling in my mind...Can she be a threat? Or a distraction? Or maybe... a pawn sent by someone who knows exactly where to hit?
I told myself it shouldn’t matter — just a woman I helped once, nothing more — but the unease wouldn’t settle. Too many things about her didn’t fit. She wasn’t supposed to cross paths with me not before.... not now, and yet she had... right when things were about to move.
Sleep wasn’t supposed to come, but exhaustion had its own way of forcing surrender. I sat back against the wall, gun still resting by my side, the faint ache in my arm pulsing with every heartbeat. My thoughts circled the same point again and again... her face, her voice, the way she looked at me last night. A possible threat, I told myself. Maybe someone sent after me. I needed to stay alert, not drift. But the painkillers were strong, and the weariness heavier than I realized. My vision blurred, the edges of the room melting into darkness, and before I knew it, sleep took over.
When I opened my eyes again, the first light of dawn was spilling through the broken slats of the window. The pain had dulled a little, though the stiffness in my arm reminded me it was far from healed. I exhaled slowly, grounding myself back into the silence. Everything outside was still quiet... too quiet ... but it gave me a moment to think clearly.
I reached for the communicator beside me and pressed the button. “Laksh,” I said, voice rough from sleep.
“Sir,” came the immediate response.
“Run a background check.”
There was a pause. “On who?”
“Woman. Mid-twenties. Name is Sayeera Mehroon , working at a tea stall near the south lane, close to our old safehouse. Lived in the small cabin behind the tea stall. I want everything... where she came from, who she talked to, who’s looking for her. And..." there is a pause,
"Sir..?" Laksh said from the other side.
"She is the woman i saw three months ago , in the warehouse which was blasted. Search about her relatives, friends ...anyone she related to"
Laksh’s voice grew alert. “You think she’s connected?”
“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “But she shouldn’t have been there last night. I want answers. Fast.”
“I’ll need a few hours to trace her movements.”
“You’ve got two,” I replied. “And Laksh... keep it off record. No files, no chatter.”
“Yes, sir.”
The line went dead.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket and looked out at the distant fields. Mist still hung low over the grass, everything too quiet, too still. That silence was deceptive — it always was.
People think secrets die when they’re buried deep enough. They don’t. They rot... and when the ground breaks, they crawl back up to find you.
Sayeera Mehroon ... if that was even her name... had appeared twice in my life now. Once when she was half-dead, and once when I was close to it. Too convenient to be coincidence.
Still, there was something in her eyes that didn’t fit the pattern of betrayal. Fear, yes. Pain, yes. But not deceit.
I hated that I noticed.
By the time I reached the outpost, the world had turned fully awake. I could already hear the coded chatter through the comms, Laksh's name flashing on my secure line.
The report would come soon. And when it did... I’d know whether she was just a survivor who stumbled into my world again... or a shadow that someone had placed there for a reason.
Either way, I’d be ready.
For a while, I keep staring at the communicator long after the line went dead. My body needed rest, but my mind refused to settle. Her face kept slipping into my thoughts... not as a threat now, but as something that didn’t belong in my world at all.
Later, Laksh’s encrypted message blinked on the screen. I opened the file. Her name appeared first... Sayeera Mehroon. Orphanage records, no relatives, no affiliations. Clean. Too clean. The last trace of her existence ended months ago. Then nothing until I found her that night.
I frowned , either someone had wiped her trail, or she really was just... no one. But something about her didn’t fit the pattern. People like her didn’t just end up near my operations by accident.
I turned off the screen and sat still, my fingers tapping absently against my thigh. Maybe she was harmless. Maybe she wasn’t. But she had seen my face, and that alone was a risk I couldn’t ignore.
I told myself it was simple. I would watch her from a distance, find out what she wanted, and disappear before she could even remember my name. But somewhere deep inside, a small, uninvited thought whispered that maybe this time, things wouldn’t stay as simple as they used to be.
Night had fallen quiet, heavy with unanswered questions. I could not shake the thought of her. Every look, every word she spoke lingered like a whisper in the back of my mind. Too many things about her did not fit. I had run checks, traced names, followed leads that led nowhere.
If she was a threat, I needed to know before it was too late. I had trusted instinct all my life, and now it told me one thing...watch her, find the truth. I would not hurt her, only take her where answers could not hide. Before dawn, I would have her brought to me. Some truths are better seen through your own eyes.
The village slept under a sky heavy with clouds. Only the tea stall still flickered faint light, its lantern swaying in the wind. I watched from the shadows behind the banyan tree, my jacket blending into the night. Dark cargo pants, hood pulled low, gloves that left no trace. Old habits never died.
She was wiping the counter, humming faintly under her breath. It felt out of place in this quiet, this forgotten corner of the map. I’d seen her from a distance ... working, struggling, pretending the world hadn’t left scars on her skin.
Laksh’s update earlier in the afternoon, confirmed what I feared ... the men who assaulted her, weren’t gone. They were searching, and this village wasn’t safe anymore.
I planned it simple. Wait until closing, cut the power to the streetlight near the stall, approach quietly. Once i satisfied about surrounding, i moved towards her, her back is towards me , making a bun of her loose hair...ready to go inside.
But before she can go inside, i covered her mouth with my one hand as her head leaned towards my right shoulder, other hand snaked around her waist from left side holding her firmly, she tried to wiggle from my hold and voice muffled under my hand.
"Shh.." I whispered in her ear...she stilled as if sensing something familiar. "Don't make a sound ...i am removing my hand" he said.
She nodded.
Taking a quick look around, I slowly removed my hand from her mouth. Not trusting her completely, I kept my left hand around her waist, holding her in place, too close more than i permit.
Then slowly releasing her from my hold, she turned in the same space, her eyes met mine, wide open in disbelief. Now, her face is inches away from me, breath mingling with mine.
After a moment realising our position, i stepped back.
"You...here...are you alright" she asked.
I didn't answer. My eyes stayed on her face, studying every flicker of confusion and fear. She still looked the same... just thinner, wearier. There was a strange calm in her voice despite the way her hands trembled. I could see she was trying to understand why I was there.
I didn’t know what to tell her. Words had never been my strength. Explaining myself was something I had forgotten long ago. I only looked at her for a second longer before I said quietly, "You have to come with me."
Her eyes widened, questions surfacing that I didn’t have time to answer. I could see her hesitation... the way her feet shifted slightly backward. I took a step forward, not out of threat but to make her understand there was no choice.
“You have to trust me for now... just come with me.”
She hesitated, eyes flicking toward the dimly lit street, then back to me. I could sense the conflict in her...fear, uncertainty, but also something else... maybe the faint memory of the night I saved her. That was the only thread I could use to pull her toward safety.
When she finally gave a small nod, I turned and gestured for her to follow. We walked through the narrow path leading out of the village, the silence between us heavy but not uncomfortable. I could hear her soft footsteps behind me, uneven yet determined.
After a while, I broke the silence. “You remember that night,” I said, my voice low, careful. “I need to know everything... who took you, where they held you, and what you saw that night."
Her pace slowed, and I could almost feel the way her breathing changed. “Why now?” she asked quietly.
“Because,” I replied, looking ahead, “it’s not over yet. And I need answers before it gets worse.”
She didn’t reply, but I knew the questions had begun circling in her head. The truth I sought was buried in her silence... and I was going to uncover it, one word at a time.
Her fingers tightening around the edge of her shawl. For a moment, I thought she would refuse... that she’d turn away and shut herself off again. But then she took a slow, trembling breath.
“I... I don’t remember everything,” she began, her voice breaking as she stared at the ground. “They... they took me in a van. It was dark... I tried to scream, but someone hit me.”
Her words came out in fragments, each one sounding like it cost her more to say. The night was quiet except for her voice and the crunch of gravel beneath our feet.
“They blindfolded me... tied my hands. I could smell rust and oil... the place they took me to, it was cold, empty... like an old warehouse.” Her breath hitched. “There were voices... laughing, arguing... I think one of them called someone on the phone. Said they’d ‘handled it’.”
I stayed silent, letting her continue, though every word twisted something inside me.
“I tried to run... when they untied me for a moment. But one of them caught me and...” she paused, her voice fading. Her fingers shook as she tried to wipe her tears, but they kept coming. “After that... I don’t remember much. Just pain. And then... someone shouting. Gunshots. And you.”
She looked up at me then, her eyes red and wet, searching for something in my face...maybe comfort, maybe understanding.
“I didn’t even know if you were real that night,” she whispered. “Everything hurt... I just thought... maybe it was another dream before dying.”
I looked away, jaw tight. “You’re not dead,” I said flatly, though my voice came out lower than I intended. “That’s what matters now.”
She nodded weakly, pulling the shawl tighter around her.
For a long moment, we walked in silence again, the weight of her words hanging between us. I didn’t comfort her. I couldn’t. But deep inside, something cold and long-buried stirred...a quiet rage mixed with guilt.
And I knew then... this wasn’t just about answers anymore. Someone was going to pay for what happened to her.
Her voice faltered again before she spoke, softer this time, almost as if she feared the words themselves.
“There were… four of them at first,” she said slowly, eyes distant. “Two in the van, one waiting at the place, and another who came later. But… it felt like more. Their voices echoed… I couldn’t tell how many for sure.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly, committing every detail to memory. “Four,” I repeated. “You’re certain?”
She hesitated, then shook her head faintly. “I… I can’t be sure. I was blindfolded most of the time, but… I remember one of them clearly. He had a scar here…” — she touched the side of her cheek lightly — “and a thick silver chain around his neck. The others, I just remember bits… one smelled of tobacco… another had a rough voice, kept saying ‘finish it fast.’”
Her breathing grew uneven as the fragments surfaced, but I didn’t interrupt. I needed this. Every detail mattered.
When she finally looked up at me, her eyes were glassy, but steady. “If… if I see them again,” she said, voice trembling, “I think I’ll know. Not all of them… but some faces I can’t forget.”
I studied her for a moment, her words sinking into the quiet night. Then I asked evenly, “If I show you photographs… will you be able to recognize them?”
She hesitated—thinking, remembering—then nodded slowly. “Maybe… yes.”
That was all I needed.
I turned my gaze ahead, mind already calculating, cataloging. Somewhere, those men were still walking free. But not for long.
We reached the small tea stall just before dawn. The village was quiet, still wrapped in sleep. The air smelled of damp soil and burnt wood from last night’s fires. I walked a few steps behind her, scanning the shadows, the rooftops, the narrow lanes. Old habits never left me... especially not when danger could come from anywhere.
Sayeera stopped near the small shed that served as her shelter, her hand reaching for the door. Before she could turn the handle, a sudden voice came from behind us.
“Who are you?”
It was sharp, wary... and older.
I turned halfway, just enough to see an older woman standing there, wrapped in a shawl, eyes wide. My body reacted before my mind did. I pulled out my gun and aimed low, my stance shifting automatically.
The woman gasped, stumbling back a step. “Oh God... what is this… who are you man?”
I realized my mistake the moment I saw Sayeera’s face—shock, fear, pleading. I lowered the weapon slightly but didn’t holster it yet.
“She’s... she’s the one who gave me work,” Sayeera said quickly, stepping forward. “Shanta bai... please... he’s not going to harm you.”
The older woman’s eyes darted from her to me, still uncertain. I kept silent. My finger eased off the trigger, but my instincts stayed sharp.
“I shouldn’t have brought her here,” I thought. “Too exposed... too many eyes.”
Sayeera turned to me then, her voice softer but steady. “Please... she’s just scared.”
I met her eyes, then finally lowered my arm and tucked the gun back into my jacket. The silence stretched, thick with unease. Shanta bai still looked at me like I was something dangerous she didn’t understand.
Maybe she was right.
The silence after I lowered the gun felt heavier than the weapon itself.
Shanta bai’s eyes lingered on me for a long moment, darting from the gun to my face, then to Sayeera. Suspicion, fear, confusion — all twisting together.
“What are you doing with this kind of man, Sayeera?” she asked, her voice trembling but edged with something sharp. “He carries weapons… he looks like trouble.”
Sayeera opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She looked at me once, then back at the woman who had given her shelter.
I stood still, saying nothing. I didn’t belong in this scene , two women, fear between them, and me the cause of it. My presence was the contamination.
Shanta bai shook her head slowly. “I can’t keep you here anymore. You’ve brought danger to my door. I’m an old woman... I can’t fight your enemies.”
Her words hit harder than I expected. Maybe because of the look on Sayeera’s face , that same look I’d seen once before when she said she had nowhere to go.
“No, please… it’s not what it looks like,” she tried, voice cracking. “He’s just—”
“Enough,” the woman cut her off. “You leave by morning. I won’t have my house burned because of someone else’s secrets.”
The air between them turned thick with something that felt final.
I looked away, jaw tight. The guilt in her eyes was something I didn’t want to see, not again. This was on me. My shadow followed anyone I touched.
Without a word, I turned from them and stepped outside into the cold air. The night had begun to fade, the sky lightening at the edges. I could still hear the murmur of their voices behind me — Shanta bai’s fear, Sayeera’s pleading.
I lit a cigarette, watching the smoke curl into the morning. “I should have known,” I thought. “Everything I touch turns unstable.”
And yet... I didn’t walk away. Not yet.
Morning came slowly, slipping through the cracks of the sky like light through broken glass. The village was already stirring .... the clang of tin pots, faint chatter, and the smell of burning wood drifting in the air.
I hadn’t slept. I’d been leaning against the stone wall outside the stall all night, watching the fog settle and lift. Her voice still echoed in my head... that pleading tone when Shanta bai told her to leave. It wasn’t my problem. It never should have been. But it was.
By the time the first ray of sunlight touched the ground, I had made my decision.
She couldn’t stay here. Not after what happened. Not after being seen with me. The people who were after me wouldn’t stop, and she had already been through enough. If she stayed, she’d just be a target again.
When I walked inside, she was sitting on the floor, a small bag beside her ... what little she owned, packed neatly. She looked up at me as if expecting me to disappear again. I didn’t.
“Get up,” I said quietly.
Her eyes flickered with uncertainty. "You will come with me." i said.
"Where?" she asked
“Somewhere they won’t find you,” I replied, keeping my tone flat. “Somewhere no one dares to enter.”
She didn’t move at first. Maybe she didn’t trust me. Maybe she was just tired of running.
“You have two choices,” I added. “Stay here and wait for trouble… or come with me and stay alive.”
Her fingers tightened around the edge of her shawl. I saw the hesitation fade, replaced by something else ...resolve, faint but there.
She stood slowly, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ll come.”
I nodded once. No more words were needed.
As we stepped out into the morning fog, I caught one last glimpse of the stall behind us — the life she had tried to build, now left behind like ash after a storm.
I walked ahead, boots crunching on gravel, feeling her silent steps follow. Another secret added to my long list of sins.
And somewhere deep inside, beneath the calm and the control... I knew this decision would change everything.
The car arrived just as the sun began to burn away the fog. A black SUV ... tinted windows, silent engine, and no identifiable markings. It slid to a stop a few meters away from where we stood, gravel crunching softly beneath the tires.
Laksh stepped out first, dressed in his usual dark shirt and cap, scanning the area before his gaze met mine. He gave a short nod. Efficient. Alert. Always two steps ahead.
I walked toward him, keeping my tone low. “You made it without being followed?”
He gave a curt shrug. “I doubled back twice. No tails, no signals. Route’s clean.”
“Good,” I said. My eyes flicked toward the narrow street we had just walked through. No movement. No curious eyes. Only the faint stirrings of morning life at a distance. “We leave now.”
Laksh opened the rear door. “What about the her, Sir?” he asked quietly.
“She’s coming,” I replied, my voice colder than I meant it to be.
His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t comment. He knew better than to ask questions when my tone carried that edge.
Sayeera stood a few feet behind, clutching the strap of her small bag. She looked at the car, then at me. For a second, hesitation flickered across her face, but when I motioned toward the door, she obeyed. She slid inside without a word.
I followed, closing the door behind us. The soft thud echoed louder in my head than it should have.
As Laksh started the car, I spoke again, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Once we cross the outer road, take the side path through the forest. No highways. Keep communications silent until I say otherwise.”
Laksh glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Understood.”
I turned my attention to the window, watching the village fade into the distance — the tea stall, the narrow lanes, the fragile simplicity she was forced to leave behind.
Sayeera sat quietly beside me, her face pale but unreadable. She didn’t ask where we were going. She didn’t have to.
I rested my arm on the window ledge, the cold glass pressing against my skin. My voice came out softer, but firm. “No one should know where we’re headed, Laksh. Not even our own.”
He nodded once. “Then we disappear.”
“Exactly.”
The car rolled forward, swallowed by the forest road. Trees began to close in, shadows lengthening across the path.
I looked ahead, silent, my mind already calculating the next steps. Hiding her was necessary... protecting her wasn’t part of the plan.
And yet, here I was — doing both.
Away from the hustle of the city, the car slipped into silence. The hum of the engine was the only sound as the road wound through thick trees, their branches stretching like arms over the path.
Mist clung to the ground, curling around the tires. Even the air felt different here ...colder, untouched. It was a place where my shadow didn’t reach.
Laksh drove without a word, eyes steady on the narrow trail ahead. I watched the city lights fade behind us, swallowed by distance and time.
Beside me, Sayeera had drifted into sleep. Her head rested lightly against the window, the faint reflection of her face flickering in the glass.
I looked away, focusing on the horizon. Every turn, every mile, was another cut between me and the world I knew.
No calls. No trackers. No one would find us here.
And for the first time in a long while... that thought didn’t bring me peace.
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