Zayn sat helplessly looking at Lailah. She had refused to talk to or even look at him however much he tried. After he had carried her out of Shaffik's room, he had walked with her straight to his ignoring the protests of everyone, then he had laid her on the flush cushions in his living room as she immediately scooted away from him. He noticed her face was bruised even as she tried to cover it with her hair, the front of her abaya was torn and her fingers were clutching it closed like her life depended on it. Fresh anger coursed through him wishing he hadn't shot those infidels, he wished to start torturing them slowly by slowly, he longed to watch their pain, he didn't want to inform her Mother, but everyone had definitely heard the gun shots. His mind went over to Shaffik and he stood up
