A click sound echoed through the room and she looked up to see Declan was inspecting a gun.
“No!” She surged to her feet and dropped the passport on the table beside the bag. “No weapons.”
“You want to bring a knife to a gunfight?” Mozart asked.
Declan said nothing.
“That’s really not necessary, right?” She asked.
Declan pulled out a thigh holster and wrapped it around his massive thighs. He didn’t speak even when he shoved the weapon into the holder and exited the room. She turned to look at Mozart, hoping to get an answer to her question. Mozart leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
“Listen,” Mozart said. “Declan will not use that weapon unless absolutely necessary. I know the type of guys who are after you—they don’t understand anything else. They sell their services to the highest bidder and they play dirty. If you want to get through this alive, you need to accept it right now there will be a few bodies in your wake. If not, Declan remains here—Caro just got him back. She’s not about to lose him again.”
Zahrah wasn’t sure how to feel about any of that. Though she wanted to survive, she wasn’t sure she was okay with having to kill someone else.
And who the actual fuck is Caro?
“Let me make it easier for you.” Mozart’s voice caused her to swing around. “Your life or theirs.”
She frowned but didn’t have time to speak. Declan returned in a trench coat that goes just below his knees. Dressed in all black, she couldn’t imagine him getting any sexier. He stood there like doom himself, body a brickhouse, thigh holding that holster like it was meant to be there and eyes filled with a storm that threatened to drown her. She sucked in some air and reached for her bag.
“I’m assuming we’re heading out?” Zahrah asked.
“Yes.” Declan reached for his bag.
“Take my truck,” Mozart said. “Park it in the hanger. Wraith is going to get it when he can. We’ll make sure the Jeep gets taken care of. It might have a different colour and plate when you return but it will be here.”
Declan nodded. When he accepted the keys from Mozart, Mozart, gripped Declan’s shoulders.
“You watch your back, hear?” Mozart asked. “Ice would kick our asses if you come back dead. If you need back up, all you have to do is put your earbuds in and press the back. Tex will be in your head in a flash. Plus, when you land in Germany, Tex has given his crew there a heads’ up. They’ll be expecting you.”
“Thank you.” Declan’s voice cracked. “I know you really don’t have to do this.”
Mozart smirk, his beautiful eyes lighting up with mischief. “Sure, we do. You’re a part of this family now. You can thank Ice for that.”
“Give Caro a hug for me, cool?” Declan asked.
“Count on it.”
Zahrah stepped forward and hugged Mozart without asking. For a second, he hesitated to return the squeeze but eventually did—quickly then stepped back.
“Thank you.” She whispered. “Thank you.”
He nodded and she stepped around him.
“Take care of yourself, Zahrah.” Mozart said.
She offered him a small smile and headed out behind Declan.
How the hell were they going to get a bounty off her head? The thought swirled about her head as she climbed into the front seat of a brand-new truck. But Zahrah decided she didn’t have to worry about any of that until they touched down in Cairo.
Chapter 4
Cyclops wasn’t sure what he expected Sankt Augustin would be like. As he looked around, he was sure this wasn’t it. In all honesty, he expected more. Sankt Augustin was a city on the smaller side—even from the airport, Cyclops could tell. Though the sun was going down, the air was humid, almost like sitting in front of a fire and inhaling. He wanted to peel the coat off, but the gun strapped to his thigh needed to remain hidden until he was able to take things in. Afterward, he could switch to a shoulder holster.
Parked in front of the private plane were two SUV’s. One had a large black man leaning against it, arms folded across his chest. The other had a man with blond hair, and tattoos littering both arms. Cyclops unfasten the lowest putting which would give him quick access to his gun.
Zahrah descending the steps behind him caught his attention. He didn’t look away from the two men. When he reached them, the one with the tattoos stepped forward.
“Declan Stone?” He asked.
“Who’s asking?” Declan countered.
“Tex sent us.” The other man explained. “Clayton Hastings—they call me Mouth.”
“Daniel Hunt.” The blonde said.
“Him, they call Pitbull.” Mouth pointed.
“Cyclops,” Cyclops said. “This is Zahrah.”
They shook hands and climbed into Pitbull’s SUV. Apparently, Mouth was to run backup for them and another SUV, driven by a man they called Crash, will be running point once they headed out again. Cyclops had to admit he was impressed with the caution they were taking, but he doubted the trouble even realized they left US soil. Still, he relaxed in the front seat.
“Tonight, you will be staying with Beast.” Pitbull explained. “He and his fiancée will host you. Tomorrow, we have a flight ready to take you into Cairo.”
“Thank you for doing this,” Cyclops said.
“It was no trouble at all.” Pitbull glanced into his mirrors then slowed as a black SUV pulled out in front of them. “Tex and his guys have saved our asses more times than I can count. They call for a favour, we ask no questions.”
Cyclops nodded. That was the kind of friendship he had with Caro. But life had gotten in the way and somehow, he lost track of her. He never had a little sister but if he did, he would want her to be like Caro. He smiled and looked out the window.
“Listen.” Pitbull’s voice dragged him from his thoughts, and he looked over at the massive man. “If you need help, all you have to do is sound the alarm, got it?”
“Got it. Thank you.”
The rest of the ride took very little time. When they arrived at a lovely house, a man and a dark-skinned woman hurried out to greet them. The SUV that had led them to the address, only paused, perhaps to ensure everyone was safe then drove off.
“He’s not coming in?” Zahrah asked.
“No,” Mouth said. “He has to head home. Today is one of his little girl’s birthday.”
She seemed to wilt then, a look Cyclops hated seeing on her. Before he could wonder as to why that reply made her so sad, Pitbull was already speaking.
They were introduced to the man who exited the house. He was Alric “Beastmode” Gerhart, the leader of the GSG 9 CIRO team and the woman, his fiancée, was Miracle “Fleur” Jones. They chatted and soon Zahrah was ushered off by Miracle for a shower and a change of clothes.
In the meantime, Beastmode—who told Cyclops to call him Beast—led Cyclops off to his space. When Cyclops was alone, he gladly showered and changed. He didn’t spend a long time on all of it and soon he was back in the kitchen, sitting around with men he didn’t know.
They talked about what was to happen next. The truth was, Cyclops had no idea what was coming next. He was basically going in blind—the worse kind of missions to go on.
All he knew, they would land in Cairo and a ride would be waiting for them.
“You need to be able to hit the ground running.” Mouth told him. “Maybe we could get one of our guys to do a little digging. I know he has some connections down there.”
“That could be good.” Cyclops agreed.
They didn’t have much time to talk after that for Tex called. Beast brought a state-of-the-art laptop out and soon Tex’s face filled the screen. He had a grim expression on his face.
“The other shoe is about to drop isn’t it?” Cyclops asked.
“The group who accepted the bounty for Zahrah is called Akrhh.” Tex explained. “They’re new but they’re bad news. Right now, they’re buildin’ and they need all the money they
can get. Knockin’ off a store-keeper won’t be anythin’ to them.”
The group groaned in unison.
“What about who sent them?” Beast wanted to know.
“We sprang a trap on one of them.” Tex explained. “He was sittin’ outside the lady’s house. He’s not talkin’.”
Cyclops groaned.
“And these guys would rather die than give anythin’ up.” Tex added.
“That can be arranged.” Cyclops growled.
“Down boy.” Mouth cooed. “Listen, the less bodies we leave in our wake, the less questions we have to answer.”
Pitbull spoke up from the window. “Mouth’s right. This will take a certain kind of finesse.”
“Agreed.” Tex added. “We go in the wrong way and you two may never come out. I still think the best way to get this over with is from the inside out. Listen, Cookie is gonna keep workin’ on this joker. But we can’t promise anythin’.”
“Oh, this just keep getting better.” Cyclops rubbed his eyes.
“Okay.” Beast cleared his throat. “How about you guys have a homecooked meal and a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, we can make the hard decisions.”
“I don’t know how much sleep I’ll get.” Declan rubbed the back of his neck. “Tex, keep looking, okay? There has to be something to give us a clue as to where we should start.”
“I’ll get Zero looking too,” Beast said. “You don’t mind, do you Tex?”
“Not at all.” Tex replied. “He has contacts in that neck of the woods, right?”
“Yeah,” Mouth said. “But I worry about too many cooks in the kitchen. I mean, I trust Zero with my life but outside this house…”
“He does have a point.” Pitbull added. He’d been standing by the window staring up at the sky. “Walls have ears everywhere and no matter how careful we are, we can’t cage all the demons.”
Cyclops nodded. “Agreed. We’ll reach out if or when we need it. Right now, this little kitchen of chefs is fine. But your Zero can do some quiet looking.”
“Good.” Beast nodded. “That’s settled. Let’s get the ladies and we can have something to eat.”
Zahrah returned dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, a dress shirt tucked in at the waist with a black hijab hiding her hair. She was still one of the sexiest women Cyclops had ever laid his eyes on. He tried not staring and to refocus on the conversation around them. It was livelier than he expected. The group welcomed him and Zahrah in as if they belonged there.
Once the night took hold, Mouth and Pitbull left for the night and after showing us where everything was, everyone else retired to their rooms. Cyclops was alone in the living room going through some information Tex had left. It was mostly on Zahrah—she’d moved from Egypt when she was a teenager for University. According to records she kept in constant contact with her family—father, older brother, a younger brother and her mother. About a year into her studies, her mother passed away and the contact she had with her family in Egypt became less and less.
That seemed strange.
She stayed in the country, getting her papers until finally she received her citizenship. The money from her family stopped and Zahrah vanished off paper trails until she popped up again with credit cards.
Cyclops had a new appreciation for her—she was a self-made woman. There wasn’t really anything in her past to be worried about. Her life was as mundane as could be. He flipped through the pictures Tex could find. As he clicked by each, Cyclops knew he wouldn’t be sleeping that night. Zahrah Jaroozi would be the dreams to cloud his senses—he hated that.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Cyclops closed the screen and turned to look at Zahrah. Strange, he hadn’t heard her enter. “Something like that.”
She stared at him for a moment before her cheeks pinkened and she dropped her gaze to the floor. It had been years since a woman looked at him like that. He wondered what was going in her mind but didn’t ask. “Do you want a drink or something?”
“I can get it.” She gave him a small smile. “You want anything?”
“Bottle of water?”
She nodded and walked to the fridge. Though she wore a PJ that was a bit bigger than she was, he could still remember her curves from earlier.
“I never knew you wore the hijab to bed,” Cyclops said. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude.”
“No. It’s fine.” Zahrah set a bottle close to him then went back to pour herself some orange juice from a glass bottle. Once it was back in the fridge, Cyclops walked into the living room area. Zahrah followed and flopped into the seat beside him. “I would rather you ask than assume, you know?”
Cyclops nodded. “Tell me about the headscarf.”
“When I was a little girl, I wore it because it was what I was supposed to do.” Zahrah told him. “Then as I grew older, I began questioning—never out loud—the reason why I had to cover my hair. Then I fell in line. As I grew older, I merely found my own meaning for wearing it.”
“Oh. Makes sense.”
“I usually don’t sleep in it.” She continued. “I figured since I was leaving my bedroom and men are here—the hair gets covered.”
“Men?”
“Yes—none-family men.”
Cyclops wasn’t sure he understood any of that. Still, he pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. “When do you actually take it off?”
“Don’t find it sexy, Declan?”
He shrugged. “That wasn’t my thought. I was only curious.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“My husband takes it off.” Her voice was soft, even to her own ears. “It’s not really a religious thing for me—hell, I’m not really religious. I’m not really a practicing Muslim. It’s just—I want to have something to offer a future husband that no on else has taken.”
Declan tilted his head, confusion littering his gorgeous eyes.
“How screwed am I?” She asked before he could speak.
Cyclops paused for an eternity then cleared his throat. He explained all Tex told him then watched her carefully. The little fire left in her eyes were gone now. It was almost he’d torn her heart out when he told her everything.
“Look, don’t think about this tonight.” Cyclops lifted his arm around her shoulder and drew her into his side. “We’re not in Egypt yet. That means you don’t have to even think about any of this.”
“It’s not that easy.”
She relaxed into his side and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Cyclops couldn’t help realizing how perfect she felt in his arms. All the thoughts to race his mind were dangerous—all of them led to the same place. All his fantasies of her ended the same way—stroking her arm, her body, feeling her kiss.
None of if should fill his mind but he couldn’t resist. Not long after, he realized she’d fallen asleep. He scooped her gently into his arms and carried her down the hall to the room she was given for the night.
Zahrah smelled like roses and temptation. He wanted to hold onto her but knew a monster like him did not deserve such beauty. He set her on the softness of her mattress, brought the sheets up to her shoulders and left the room. Once he had the door closed behind him, he leaned his back to it and closed his eyes.
“No Cyclops. No.” He cleared his throat and after gathering his things in the kitchen, he closed himself in the bedroom. He packed everything and climbed into the bed knowing sleep wouldn’t come.
For the rest of the night, he tossed and turned. Each time he drifted into slumber-land, the nightmares filled his mind like a swarm of vultures. They were dark and unforgiving. In the wasteland of dreams, Cyclops accepted the blame for all the bad things in the world and shouted his pain to a moon that mocked him.
Around four in the morning, he woke up, showered and checked on Zahrah. Once he was sure all was well, he found a spot in the backyard for a quick workout. Since he didn’t have any equipment, the weight of his body would have to do.
His mind wa
s convoluted with an orgy of thoughts and idea and demons. He must clear them before he set down in Cairo. If he wasn’t clear minded, they wouldn’t be walking out of that country.
Cyclops wasn’t sure how long he’d been at it when the door opened. He stopped and turned to see Zahrah standing there, a mug of coffee in one hand. It trembled as she stared at him in a way he couldn’t misinterpret. She like what she saw and as her eyes travelled up his body, over his shirtless torso to his eyes, he couldn’t ignore the fact he liked the way she looked at him.
He licked his lips and approached her slowly. Her cheeks pinkened when he was standing directly in front of her. He was close now, so near her breath bathed his neck.
“Is that for me?” Cyclops asked, his voice cracking.
Zahrah nodded.
As he accepted her offering, he bowed his head and drop a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Shukran.”
She whimpered and nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Instead of staying, Cyclops stepped through the door while sipping from the coffee. As the warmth made its way down into his stomach, Cyclops couldn’t stop the smile from crossing his lips. Toward the tail end of his workout, he knew someone had been watching him. When he turned and saw it was Zahrah, the moment was even more sensual than he could have imagined. Her eyes spoke volumes—or maybe he was seeing things—but he couldn’t resist feeling like he could conquer mountains. It had been a while since a woman looked at him the way Zahrah had. Leave it to fates to send him the woman he could never be with. Even if he entertained a flirtation, that was all it could be with Zahrah.
Still, Cyclops allowed the thought of looking sexy to someone to remain until he’d showered and dressed. Once he had his gun strapped to his thigh, he vanquished the lover and the monster returned.
Chapter 5
Zahrah packed the little she’d taken out of her bag. She was inside her head, remembering how sexy Declan looked shadowboxing. Even as she stood at the door, coffee in hand, watching the way his body moved, it took every bit of strength to remind her brain she needed to keep her fingers curled around the handle of the mug.
Defending Zahrah Page 4