Defending Zahrah
Page 1
Defending Zahrah (Special Forces: Opération Alpha)
4Guardians 1
Kendra Mei Chailyn
Contents
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
About the Author
Other Books by Kendra Mei Chailyn
More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books
Books by Susan Stoker
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
© 2019 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.
Dear Readers,
Welcome to the Special Forces: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!
If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.
This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.
I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!
READ ON!
Xoxo
Susan Stoker
About the book
Zahrah Jaroozi’s life has never been a walk in the park, even though she has always been the good girl. But she has managed to carve out a life for herself. If it wasn’t for bad luck, Zahrah wouldn’t have any luck at all, for the past is calling by putting a target on her back.
She never expected to be saved by her very own monster.
When ex-Marine sniper Declan “Cyclops” Stone comes across her, she's in trouble. He figures once he helps her, they would never cross paths again. But the next time he sees her, it didn't take a genius to know the first incident was no accident and Zahrah is in some serious mess.
It only gets worse when they shine light in the dark corners of Zahrah’s life and monsters look back.
…but none of them are as dangerous as a Cyclops.
So much for keeping a low profile.
“Confidence is like a dragon where, for every head cut off, two more heads grow back.”
-Criss Jami
Chapter 1
Vandalism.
There were no other explanations. It was merely a bunch of idiots messing around. What else could it be? For the fourth time in the last week, someone had taken it upon themselves to smash out the light bulb at the front of Zahrah’s store. Though she had called the property manager about it, they claimed they didn’t have anyone handy to deal with it just yet. She would have to wait. If they could give her a time as to how long the wait would be, Zahrah wouldn’t have been so damn irritated. But each time she called, they always told her, she was waitlisted.
Zahrah wanted to reach through the phone and slap the fool so hard, it messed up the space time continuum.
The last time, her friend Craig had climbed the ladder to replace it. The times before that, she’d merely closed early to avoid the area once night fell.
The management company was absolutely useless.
This is bullshit
Zahrah stared up at the broken lightbulb and frowned. No, it was a simple lightbulb. Why did she have to wait on some guy to fix it? She had two hands and it wasn’t rocket science to change the thing. All she really needed was another one, a ladder and some girl power to replace the thing. She gave herself a nod of determination then darted into the back for the ladder and one of the bulbs she’d bought for emergencies.
She juggled them both, set up the ladder and climbed to the very top. Sure, Zahrah knew it was dangerous, but she wasn’t as tall as Craig and had to make up for the height deficiency somehow. After setting the small box on the stand, she proceeded to unscrew what was left of the old bulb, being careful not to cut herself on the sharp edges. The trick was to keep it from falling while pulling the new one from the box. She must have wiggled too much because before she knew what was happening, Zahrah was tilted beyond the point of no returned.
There was nothing she could have done to stop her fall. As her doom approached in super slow motion, she couldn’t help thinking she knew how Alan Rickman felt, falling off that room in the first Die Hard.
She flailed in a mad panic as her breath had her in a strangle hold. No sound left her lips as she tried screaming before the pain kicked in.
None came.
Instead, the sharp sound of breaking glass filled the air.
Zahrah opened one eye to look up into the most beautiful brown stare she’d ever seen. He was handsome, even with jagged scar along his right jawline. His dark skin was otherwise flawless, and her mouth watered.
“Are you an angel?” Zahrah asked.
He smirked at her. “I assured you. I’ve been called a lot of things in my years. No one has ever called me an angel”
His body under hers was hard, the kind she read about in her romance novels she hid under her bed out of habit.
“Are you sure you’re not an angel?”
He nodded. “Positive.”
Zahrah’s cheeks heated and she scrambled to get out of his arms.
“Thank you.” She managed.
He said nothing. The only reply she received from him was a curt nod before he looked up at the bulb she’d been trying to fix. “Do you have anymore?”
“You just saved my life—you really don’t have to do this.”
He said nothing. Instead, he started up the ladder. She made a second trip into the back for another bulb and when she returned, he stretched his hand for it. She dutifully relinquished the bulb and watched as he worked away screwing it in.
“Can I offer you a cup of coffee?” Zahrah asked. “Something?”
“I’m on my way to an appointment.” He descended the ladder, closed it and flicked the holders in place. “Show me where to put this.”
She didn’t argue. Once he set it back in place, Zahrah followed him out the front door. “There has to be something I can do for you.”
“There is.” He picked up his backpack and strapped it over his shoulder. “Keep your eyes on that bulb. Don’t ever try to change it at nights.”
Zahrah arched a brow. “At nights?”
“You said there must be something you can do for me.”
Zahrah nodded.
“That’s my one favour from you.”
Though confused, Zahrah promised and he turned to leave again.
“Hey, wait a minute!” she called. I’m Zahrah. Can you at least tell me your name?”
He smiled. “They call me Cyclops.”
“Cyclops? Well, that’s not angel-like at all.”
He winked at her and headed across the street. She watched him heading north, his hood over his head. Cyclops was muscular and tall. Those kinds of men never did anything for her before. Then why was Zahrah salivating at the thought of those arms wrapped around her? Why did the thought of climbing Cyclops like a tree turn her on so much?
Hell, she’d sworn off men and intimacy a long time ago.
How could she keep that promise to herself when men like him were walking around? She frowned and turned back into the store. It was barely opening time and she’d already been tempted to make some bad decisions.
Still, there was no denying Cyclops—whatever his real name was—would be the kind of man to lead her into temptation. And Zahrah wouldn’t have felt even a little bit bad about it.
Zahrah frowned and checked the time.
Why should she feel bad or guilty for fantasizing about a man? No matter her past, she still had a vagina—she was still a woman.
She gave the store a final go over then turned the sign on the door. With the store open, she headed behind the counter to unpack the pieces she’d made the night before. Although she’d promised herself to wait until she’d sold a few more pieces, inspiration hit her after watching her favorite movie, Love, Simon. All night, she went from digging through her supplies, to creating some breath-taking pieces she was pretty sure wouldn’t stay on the shelves long.
Proud of herself, Zahrah stocked a few into the front case beneath the cash register, then hung the others on hooks on the wall with tiny sensors for the alarm system on them.
Throughout the day, customers came in and out. She made amazing sales, especially of the new pieces. A man bought two of the cobra bracelets and a pair of the eye of Horus earrings. He was amazed at the designs.
But Zahrah couldn’t stop thinking about Cyclops.
“Zee!” Craig Lewis sauntered into the store just after one with a large brown paper bag. He kissed both her cheeks. “How was today?”
“Well, had another bulb blowout.” She explained to her best friend. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Have you talked to the property manager? There has to be something on the cameras.”
“They’re no help.” Zahrah looked at her reflection in the glass case and adjusted her hijab. “I almost broke my damn neck on the ladder until some guy name Cyclops caught me.”
“A guy name Cyclops?”
“Long story.” Zahrah blushed.
“Over apple cider and sandwiches from Boitano’s.” Craig wiggled his brows. “I’m all ears.”
“We’re going to eat those.” Zahrah giggled. “But this story required a little something more. Date night?”
“You got it mama.” Craig lifted the bag. “Lunch?”
“Great. I’m starving.”
By the time the store closed, and she was finished with all the end of day financial mess, Zahrah was positively exhausted. She knew she had to hire someone part time to help her out but so far, all the people she found weren’t great matches. When she looked up, Zahrah noticed the light on the front was out again. As she turned for the backroom, she remembered her promise to Cyclops. Even though she wanted to change it then, she’d promised him and for some strange reason, the thought of breaking her word to him did something to her.
With a deep breath, Zahrah gathered her things. She unplugged her cell from the wall and flipped off the lights as she went. The last thing she did was turned the sign then stepped through the door. It was a struggle trying to find the keyhole until she used the flashlight on her cell
. Zahrah was just dumping her keys into her purse when a tug on the back of her shirt sent her hurtling backward. She hit the ground hard, dust swirling around her, pain vibrating through her back, along her spine then shooting to ever part of her body.
Something landed hard in her side and she curled into a ball. Breathing caused her ribs to hurt but she had no time to scream. Another hit landed on the side of her face. Zahrah lifted her arms to guard her head even as the hits continued.
But as suddenly as they started, her attack stopped. There was shuffling around her and though all she wanted to do was die from the hurt, she managed to open her right eye for her left was swollen shut.
A large dark figure was fighting with two other men. She watched as the large man grabbed the two assailants by the back of their necks and slammed their heads together. He released them and they crumbled to the ground. He knelt over them, pulled something from his waist and busied himself doing something.
Zahrah blinked and this man was moving toward her. She pushed to her bum, ignoring her purse even as she tried to scamper away. Her head was throbbing like the devil was inside playing the bongos and every muscle in her frame hurt. But she couldn’t stay still. This man had taken out two others and he wasn’t even breathing hard.
“Zahrah?”
She continued trying to get away, the concrete digging into her palms and thighs.
“Zahrah, I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was strong, vaguely familiar. He pulled his hood back. “It’s Cyclops—remember me? From today?”
“Cyclops?” She whispered.
He hunched down in front of her and without thinking, Zahrah pushed to her bruised knees and tossed herself into his arms. Instead of speaking, he scooped her into his arms. Even as she clung to him, Cyclops moved around the front of the store for a moment, then carried her toward the street. When she realized what was happening, he was placing her in a jeep and pulling the seatbelt on.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Hospital.”
“No.” Zahrah shook her head. “No, hospitals. Take me home.”
“Um—you’re bleeding.”
“I have a first aid kit, okay? I hate hospitals. Please.”
Cyclops exhaled loudly but nodded. “Address?”
She rambled it off then rested her head to the seat. There were so many things going through her head. Zahrah allowed the thoughts for she hoped they would drown out the pain. But her entire body was still on fire.
“I’m sorry to be bleeding all over your jeep.” She managed. “Your brand-new jeep…”
“Nothing a little soap and water can’t fix.” Cyclops told her.
That was the most words he’d said to her in one sentence—it had to be.
“Who were those guys?” He asked.
“I don’t know.”
He said nothing after that. She was just attacked by strangers in the night. This man beside her should terrify the hell out of her but he didn’t. Zahrah couldn’t explain why she felt so extremely safe with him.
She glanced over at him.
Perhaps it was his eyes.
“What were you doing at my store?”
“I was heading toward home, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the broken bulb.” He admitted. “I thought I’d swing by on my way.”
“Well, I’m glad you did. Who knows what would have happened?”
He grunted.
At my place, I opened the garage so he could maneuver his vehicle in beside my car. Even with the car, I try not to use it all the time. I usually biked to work since it wasn’t that far between my store and place and she needed to stay healthy.
Cyclops exited the vehicle then hurried around to help her out. He escorted her into the house and sat her on one of the chairs in the kitchen. He asked where the kit was and after she explained, he hurried off for it.
Quickly, he was back, had it opened on the table and busied himself attending to her wounds. Zahrah didn’t try talking him out of it. Honestly, she’d never had a man fuss over her before and deep down it felt good. A part of her screamed for her to call Craig but she didn’t w
ant him to worry until she figured out what happened and why.
Zahrah was no idiot—she knew whoever attacked her were the same ones who kept taking out the light at the front of the store. It had to be.
“How many times have your lights been taken out?” Cyclops asked.
Zahrah hissed as he tapped a particular tender spot against her right cheek. “A few. I thought it was kids messing around.”
“Kiss messing around is graffiti or a broken window. Maybe its time you called the cops.”
“The last time I had a window smashed out and called the cops, I was told in some not so subtle language that maybe I should open my store elsewhere.”
“Zahrah—this is dangerous.”
“I know.” She inhaled deeply. “I just got the crap kicked out of me—I get it. But I’m not going to pick up my store and move somewhere else because people are assholes. There has to be another way.”
He turned his attention to her scraped knees.
“I don’t think I’m asking for much.” She confided. “I just want to make a living. Is that too much to want for myself?”
Cyclops dumped a blood-stained piece of cotton into a plastic bag he’d taken from the kit and set it on the floor.
“If you’re going to keep saving me, at least tell me your real name.” Zahrah told him.
He lifted unreadable eyes at her. It was almost as if he was searching her face for something. Eventually, he closed the bottle of antiseptic wash he’d been using. “Declan,” he said. “Declan Stone.”