Guarding Aisha

by Zoë Normandie

  “You’re a SEAL, aren’t you?”

  His expression betrayed his surprise, and intelligent eyes narrowed in on her. The hungry look on his face drove a lightning bolt of fear through her chest. She wished she hadn’t asked.

  “An interesting thing to say. Do you know any SEALs, my friend?”

  “No,” she squeaked. She looked back at the condo again. Kate was marching off the back deck onto the sand. She looked livid. The condo’s security guards were looking around the busy beach through squinted eyes.

  The stranger shook his head and laughed. “You can be honest, princess.”

  How the fuck did he know her? Aisha didn’t like how he spoke to her.

  “Tell me, have you ever heard of a man named Ryder?” He asked.

  She said nothing.

  “How about Jake?”

  The muscles in her legs tensed, and she knew she had to make a run for it, but as she looked up into the man’s cold coal eyes, she froze. Again. Her legs turned to lead and just wouldn’t respond.

  As she fought against herself to move, the man grabbed her arm, pulling her up the beach with him. It was easy to drag her unwilling body through the powdery sand, and she left behind long grooves where her feet had been unable to fall in step behind him.

  Red-faced and shocked, Kate ran down the sand toward her. “What the hell is going on? Where have you been?”

  The man threw her toward Kate. Aisha was so shocked she could barely breathe. Why did she always freeze? Why couldn’t she stand up for herself?

  “It seems you lost something,” the man sneered, motioning to Aisha.

  “I see you’ve met Senior Chief Blackshot.” Kate clucked her tongue at Aisha. “Another Navy SEAL. I guess that’s Virginia Beach for you.” Kate’s words were nonchalant, but her tone and demeanor betrayed a tension and deep suspicion. “Thanks for helping find her,” she said curtly to Blackshot.

  Aisha wondered what the hell was going on. There was an entire subcurrent to their exchange that she did not understand. But she had to hand it to Kate—that woman was a cool professional. Maybe that’s why Aisha found it so hard to read her.

  “Well, we have an appointment,” Kate explained, touching Aisha’s arm to steer her indoors. As they retreated quickly into the condo, Aisha found herself wishing she could tell Jake what had happened. Some suspicious SEAL showing up and asking about him? It didn’t look good. But she wiped the thought from her mind, resenting her eagerness to please a man who had pushed her away like a used rag.

  “You left,” Kate stated bluntly from the adjacent kitchen as she put a kettle on to boil.

  She sounded immensely disappointed. “You knew the rules, and you broke them.”

  Aisha fidgeted with her hands. “I needed air,” she replied, choosing not to apologize. She was angry more than anything else.

  She picked up a banana from a basket on the long, white countertop. She had to eat, something that Jake had reminded her about constantly.

  “I know you’ve been exposed to someone who likes to break rules, but you don’t have as long a rope. Do not break the rules again.” Kate spoke firmly, reaching up for mugs in the cream-colored cupboards.

  Aisha nodded in understanding, but she was frustrated at her treatment. She turned her attention to peeling the banana. It was fragrant and tropical, and she needed a boost.

  “Are you okay?” Kate remained on the other side of the counter, assessing her asset.

  “No,” Aisha breathed.

  Aisha couldn’t have withheld her reaction if it was her only purpose in life. Her eyes flicked up to Kate’s. She had so many questions. But she didn’t want anyone to know what had happened between them, the good or the bad.

  Aisha could see that was Kate analyzing her. Looking for a reaction. But Aisha wasn’t sure how to react. And still, all she could think about was him. Him kissing her neck. Her lips. Her thighs.

  Kate stated. “Your currency, my friend, is your information. Spend it wisely.” After a moment of silence, she continued. “So let me get this straight. Your dad, the sheikh, is subverting his western allies by killing and maiming and generally wreaking havoc in Djibouti.”

  “Yes,” Aisha stated. “By supporting Daesh.”

  “By supporting a rogue terrorist group? One that the United States is actively fighting against?”

  Aisha nodded quickly. “Your enemy is my enemy.”

  “And he’s doing all this because he’s trying to loosen the American grip on Middle East politics—all while smiling nice at the G20 world diplomatic meetings.” Kate let out a low laugh. “I certainly wouldn’t put it past him.”

  Aisha swallowed, considering her words carefully. “He’s pretending to be your friend, but he’s trying to destabilize American power in the region.”

  Kate took a sip of her tea. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Can you help them? Can you help the people in Djibouti?” Aisha asked, hopeful.

  Kate gave her a quizzical look. “I’m trying to figure out why you’ve flipped on your father.”

  The tone in Kate’s voice was antagonistic, and Aisha didn’t like it. “I wanted— I wanted to come here. To live here,” Aisha started to explain. “I just don’t want anyone else to die at the hands of my father.”

  “Including you?” Kate asked.

  “Preferably,” Aisha replied solemnly.

  “I believe that is part of it.” Kate mused. “But I also believe there is more to this story.” She poured more hot water into her teacup and added two sugar cubes and a splash of dairy.

  Aisha had a cup in front of her as well, but she couldn’t stomach anything with the stress. She was completely tangled up inside. There was a knot in her chest that made it hard to breathe.

  “What more do you want me to tell you?” she asked Kate, wishing there was some secret blueprint to success that she could access.

  “That, my friend, is for you to decide.” Kate crossed her long legs. She was a tall woman compared to Aisha at five-foot-five.

  Aisha studied the teacups, unsure what to say. She’d put all her eggs in this basket, and she had absolutely nothing to fall back on. Kate was the supposed to be the one to help her.

  Kate assessed her for a moment, and then continued in an ice-cold professional voice, “I’ve given you fair warning, Aisha. A deal with the CIA is contingent on what you tell us. Citizenship and green cards are not handed out like candy.”

  Aisha’s lips parted, and she heard the underlying threat. As she searched for words, she wished there was something she could do or say that wouldn’t make her feel so helpless.

  “Things could have been different for you if we’d signed a deal in advance, but you chose to defect unplanned, and here we are.” Kate eyed her suspiciously, narrowing her eyes as she sipped her hot tea.

  “I did what I could when I had a chance, Kate,” Aisha pleaded. “My father brought me to Canada, and I was told that you happened to also be at the embassy. Was it fate? I don’t know, but it was at least luck.”

  “That luck has yet to be seen.” Kate settled her gaze on the young princess. “How exactly were you told that I was at the embassy?”

  The thought of Leo crossed Aisha’s eyes. She didn’t know where he was, or what he was up to. Surely his duties with the French government at the G20 would be concluded by now.

  “I have a contact in French intelligence. An old friend.” Aisha explained. “He helped me.”

  “French intelligence?” Kate questioned. “Why?”

  “Old friends, like I said.”

  “And nothing more?”

  Aisha couldn’t help the tightening feeling in her chest. Jake’s words had stayed with her. Leo wanted more. He looked at her for more.

  The silence that filled the room told Aisha something—something was amiss. Kate was upset. Her eyes tracked back and forth, processing.

  “What’s on your mind, Aisha?” Kate asked finally.

  It was Kate’s job to get the in
formation out. No surprise there. You don’t get to become a CIA station chief without being pretty damn good at reading people.

  The problem was that Aisha didn’t want to share. She didn’t want anyone to know how she’d given herself to someone only to be thrown away like she meant nothing. Jake had really done a number on her. Physically and mentally.

  “Will I…” Aisha started, wishing she could ask without completely compromising her position.

  “Yes?” Kate said, putting tea bags into the mugs as the kettle grew hotter.

  “… be seeing Jake again?” Aisha finished, nearly regretting asking.

  Kate seemed to know exactly what she meant, and her head bobbed in understanding.

  “I’m glad you are finding a way to be more forthcoming with me.” Kate explained. “Progress.”

  The tone of the conversation shifted, and Aisha straightened her spine.

  “I’ve never withheld from you, Kate,” Aisha stated as a matter of fact. “I just find it hard to talk about… certain things.”

  Kate gave her a knowing look. “Don’t talk to anyone else.” She got up and moved to the door with a swift tone of urgency.

  “Am I going to see him again?” Aisha breathed out.

  Kate shook her head, “I didn’t get to be chief without figuring out what people want. I’m not a mind reader, Aisha, but I imagine he has an agenda and he won’t be stopped so easily.”

  Hope filled Aisha.

  But then she realized that Kate wasn’t talking about Jake.

  She was talking about Leo.

  22

  Jake lay on the wooden floor with his hands on his face, still in the same shirt he’d worn the day before. Things were bad, really bad.

  He reached unseeing for the bottle of whiskey that was his new best friend. It was the only thing he had to keep him company as he stewed in frustration and rage.

  Where the fuck was Aisha? He couldn’t get any leads. He worried that the worst had happened, and she’d been deported or killed. No one would ever know.

  Picking up his cell, he saw a new message from Aidan King. I’m still working on it. Pulling some favors. Stand by.

  Jake sighed and nearly threw the fucking phone across the room. That was not the answer he wanted. Wasn’t this King guy supposed to be an all-knowing wizard?

  With his other hand, he brought the booze to his mouth and took a swig. It went down smooth, hitting his empty stomach. In the four days that had passed since they’d gotten off that plane, Jake had barely eaten or slept as he drove down every fucking street on the coast to get an lead on where she’d be taken.

  Finally, Ryder told him that his tactics were dumb—that he was following his heart not his head.

  Jake’s cell rang. Speak of the devil.

  “Yup.”

  “Buddy.” Ryder’s voice came through the other line. “How you holding up?”

  “Great,” Jake said sarcastically, whiskey in hand. “Just fucking dandy.”

  “Olivia wants to send over some lasagna. You’ve got to eat, man. I know this isn’t easy, but you’ll be no use to her when you’re dead.”

  If she’s not already dead.

  “I’m no use now,” Jake groaned. “But thanks.”

  Ryder laughed. “Man, come on. You need to get a grip.”

  Jake rubbed his hand over his growing brown beard. “I can’t, man. That’s the thing. I’ve fucking failed her. Things could have been different…”

  “Could they have, really?”

  Jake shook his head, unwilling to answer. Things always could have been different. Maybe if he hadn’t lost his shit in Canada and pissed off Kate, Aisha would already have a deal.

  “I know it’s been hard. It’s been hard on all of us since… you know.”

  They both knew without having to say it. And that silent, knowing company was priceless to a broken man.

  “I had a grip before,” Jake slurred. “I was getting things under control. And then I met her. Fuck.”

  He took a drink.

  Ryder laughed again. “That’ll do it, every time. But you know what that means.”

  “What?”

  “Means you’ve found the one,” Ryder explained. “Means you’ve found someone, something, worth fighting for.”

  As a memory of their passionate kisses assaulted him, Jake swore in that moment he could taste her, smell her. But the memory of her pulling away from him as they deplaned hit him hard. He’d hurt her, and he could see it now clearer than ever.

  “Damn,” he grunted. “I shouldn’t have left it like that. I should have said the right thing…”

  “Don’t worry about could and should.” Ryder said. “Just take care of yourself today, so you’ll be ready tomorrow.”

  The message was clear as they ended the call—Jake had to get his shit together. One way or another, he had to find a way.

  As he rolled onto his side, the scent of the hardwood floor filled his nose, and he closed his eyes and rhythmically breathed to calm his mind. To focus. To think.

  He reveled in an image of Aisha that floated to the surface. She leaned closer, giving her mouth to him. He felt water on his hands as he slid his paws up her smooth, soft thighs. She was so fucking beautiful.

  But then his focus waned and his breathing grew ragged. Her sweet image fizzled until all Jake could see was sand. In the distance, he counted sixteen jihadists. He’d been in Mali for too fucking long, on too many deployments. Whatever they were doing wasn’t working—the Sahel-based Islamists were increasing their presence in the area, and the death toll of local villagers was rising.

  Because he and Mason were providing cover for a reconnaissance mission, they were unmarked and not in uniform. They’d done what they could to conceal their Western appearance with dark tans and dark beards, but he expected they came across as contractors more than anything else.

  Jihadist gunmen approached him and Mason in the small village hundreds of kilometers northeast of Mali’s capital. They demanded that Jake sell them weapons, holding guns to the heads of villagers and threatening to kill them and take their children.

  The threats were fucking real, and Jake saw it in the dark, vulnerable eyes of those small children. He couldn’t watch this happen to them.

  But there were sixteen of the enemy and only two of them. They needed backup, fast. But in the meantime, he had to keep the situation calm. Keep it under control.

  Jake looked down at those dark eyes pleading to him. Pleading for their life.

  Something in Jake snapped, and without realizing it, he’d pulled the trigger on the jihadist in front of him, blowing the man away. But unfortunately, the kid got hit, too.

  Jake dropped to his knees to reach out to the kid, but a gust of wind blew powdered dirt into his face and mouth. That sandy taste was one he’d never forget. The way it got in your eyes, your nose, your mouth—and never fucking came out.

  Jake rubbed his face furiously, trying to get the sand out. As he rubbed, he realized that cold water was splashing on his face and he was back at his place in Virginia, standing over the bathroom sink with his hands under the tap.

  He wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point he’d stopped believing in Big Navy’s desire to clean out the rot in the SEALs. That rot had overtaken him, too, infecting his chest with darkness and leaving him with a lot of memories he didn’t care to revisit.

  With water dripping down his overgrown beard, he looked in the mirror and saw a face of fucking horror. He needed to eat, and he needed to sleep. He’d already failed her, and now he was rapidly failing himself.

  “What is happening to you, buddy?” He said to himself, seeing the face of a crazed veteran in the mirror.

  He barely recognized himself anymore. It wasn’t just that he looked tired or worn out. It was that he was beginning to obsess over her. He had never been in that place before.

  But she… she was really something special.

  Leaning against the bathroom counter and
feeling the exhaustion in his limbs, Jake promised that his next step was to start taking care of himself, just like he’d told Aisha to. And maybe, just maybe, if he ever saw her again, he would man up and tell her what the hell was wrong with him, so she could judge him for what he was.

  23

  Aisha sat, leaning against the wall in the small, dark, grey room. It felt like a closet except there was nothing in it except for a door. A large metal door that locked from the other side. She didn’t need to test it to figure that out.

  Kate hadn’t explained why she had to leave the safe house, or why she had to be blindfolded as they drove her for what seemed like hours. Her terror mounted. Whatever Jake had warned would happen… it was happening.

  A river of tears flowed steadily out of her eyes, but she didn’t dare make any noise—she knew better than that. This wasn’t her first time being held in captivity. It was her father’s favorite punishment. Sometimes she and her sister would disappear from the public eye for days or even weeks. Whatever their crime, he made sure they learned their lesson.

  The possibility that her father had gotten his hands on her again was very real. Aisha worried that Kate had sold her out. She lifted her arms over her knees and hugged tightly, rocking in place, wishing she could hum to herself. But, above all, she wished Jake’s warm arms were around her.

  Focusing on him seared her heart. She lost her composure and broke down when she realized she might never see him again. The hot tears fell down her cheeks like a waterfall, and it took everything in her to keep breathing.

  How could she be so stupid? She’d let herself fall too hard with him. Of course it was a pipe dream. Nothing more. They were never going to get married. Sooner or later, she’d be taken.

  Perhaps she would be left to die. Memories flashed before her eyes. The cabin with Jake. Camping. The tent. She remembered him trying to teach her self-defense. Survival skills.

  Remembering his words of advice, she exhaled slowly and tried to relax as the sharp pain in her lungs grew, threatening hyperventilation. She closed her eyes and imagined Jake behind her, holding her. It was hard, but she closed off her mind to everything else and just imagined him. His face. His smile. His eyes.