“True. But this is my life and I’m not going to sit back like some damsel.” Zahrah gripped the door handle. “I’m going to have a hand in taking it back. So, are you coming?”
“Yes, dear.”
She growled softly at him but pushed from the seat and closed the door. To not slam it, Zahrah braced her hip to the car and pushed in until the vehicle rocked but the door clicked closed.
True to her word, she followed in Declan’s footsteps. They stuck to the darkness, using the shadows of walls that weren’t there when she was a child. Hadeel must have erected them to keep prying eyes out. She didn’t care why he did it. The place held nothing for her anymore. Declan finally stopped and looked up. Though he didn’t say, she guessed he was trying to see if there were any cameras on that side of the house.
Soon, they were on the move again.
Inside, the house was dark. She held onto the back of Declan’s shirt as he ventured deeper and deeper into the darkness. From time to time, moonlight streaked in through a window but other than that, they were on their own.
They found her father’s office and entered. Thanks to the moon, it wasn’t nearly as dark as the rest of the house. After they closed the door behind them, Zahrah rushed forward and began going through things. Declan did the same, opening drawers, shifting books around, easing picture frames to the side then stopping in the center of the room as the floor outside the door creaked.
Both Zahrah and Declan exchanged glances and he held up a finger to stop her movement. The sound stopped and for a moment, she thought it must have been a figment of their imagination.
The moment she took a step toward Declan, the sound came again. This time it wasn’t just a one-time thing. She rushed across and stooped as Declan pushed her behind his body and led her toward the back of the door. The door to the office eased opened slowly and Declan inched closer to it. Hiding behind the door was the only alternative. She could see that, but it didn’t calm her nerves any.
A man stepped in, slowly, headfirst.
Declan didn’t move.
Zahrah stopped breathing.
The man looked around the room as he ventured closer to the desk. He checked the windows and Zahrah thought for sure they were in the clear. That was until he turned around and she watched his mouth opened. She knew they were dead. He was going to yell, and others were going to come running and both her and Declan would be gone.
Declan moved with the speed of a smaller, lighter man. Before she could even register what was happening, he was across the room slamming a fist in the man’s face and following it up with a couple to the kidneys. The poor man had no idea what hit him, but Declan caught him before he hit the floor.
“We need to hurry.” He whispered hoarsely, while using pieces of the man’s own shirt to tie him up and gag him. When he was finished, Declan rolled the unconscious man under the desk and we continued going through the office. Zahrah found a small portable safe sitting beneath pillows on the windowsill. She tried opening it, but the lock was digital and kept asking for a password. She remembered it from the last time shew as in the office. It hadn’t been hidden then. Her father had left it on the corner of his desk. She shrugged and picked it up.
Declan peeked out the door then led her further down the halls. The next room was Farhad’s old room. It was stripped bare—almost as though her older brother hadn’t exist. There was nothing, not even a scrap of paper.
How could that be? It was almost as if Hadeel wanted to erase Farhad.
From time to time they had to dip down the wrong corridor to avoid nightguards. That too was new. When she was a child there was no need for armed men patrolling the halls. But when someone had done things, evil things to others, their reward was discomfort. Their reward was having to look over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. Their reward was men with guns in the sanctity of their homes.
What Hadeel failed to realize was it was impossible to keep looking behind him. Sooner or later, Hadeel would have to look away—
—and death moved quickly.
They found Hadeel’s bedroom. Though Zahrah wanted to go in and slap him silly, she gripped Declan’s hand and forced her mind and heart to remember this was a fact gathering mission. There would be time to kick his ass later—she hoped.
They gathered all they could in the way of evidence and was heading for the exited when a shuffling of feet drew their attention. Zahrah glanced up at Declan who was already easing toward the corner to peek around. He drew himself back and pointed back the way they’d come. Zahrah took off without having to be told twice with Declan close behind.
He didn’t have to tell her these men had cut off their exit. They were in a part of the house that had no way of getting out unless moving toward the front. Her father often called it the dead zone. Years later, that name took on a whole new meaning for her.
When Declan stopped and pulled her behind a wall, Zahrah unclipped the gun and they waited. The first man around the corner got a foot in the face. He didn’t go down—instead, he bounced back and attacked. Right after Declan maneuvered them into a position where he caught his captive in a choke hold, another man stepped around.
The distinct sound of Declan’s catch’s neck snapping wasn’t lost on her even as she kicked the newcomer in the groin and watched as he grabbed himself and fell to his knees. It sickened her, hearing Declan’s captive slumped to the floor, lifeless. But she swallowed her bile and poked her guy in the eyes. Declan braced large foot into the center of her man’s back and slammed him, face first into the floor.
He didn’t move.
She didn’t have to use her gun and for that she was grateful. Instead, she strapped it back into her holster.
They walked down the hall hastily, stopping only when they heard something. Before they made it out the door and was tear-assing across the pace back to their ride, Declan had killed two more men with his bare hands. They climbed into the car, Zahrah dropped the safe on the floor while Declan tossed his papers into her lap. In no time at all, they were driving away.
Out of habit, Zahrah checked the backseat. When she found nothing, she turned again and focused on the safe she’d picked up from her father’s office.
Chapter 13
There wasn’t much information from the whore-house. People didn’t take names or asked questions. There, they followed orders and hoped not to get caught.
Ronin and the others had some news from his stakeout. They all sat around and went through what the stakeout at the stakeout from the restaurant yielded. There were whispered that Hadeel had something to do with their father’s death. Apparently, Afram, the father, had been healthy. His doctors seemed to think he would have outlived them all. After his death, Hadeel had their father buried the same day.
Yes, in her culture, the body is supposed to be buried as quickly as possible. But Afram hadn’t been sick—not that she knew of. Then again, they probably wouldn’t have told her. Still, Afram was on track to outlive them all. So, a healthy man dropped dead and what?
Why hadn’t the police stepped in? Sure, Afram was Muslim and according to the religion the burial had to happen as soon as possible—sometimes twenty-four hours after death. Besides, her father was wealthy. He wielded immense power—still no one questioned his demise.
Cyclops didn’t voice his concerns. He merely stood back and allowed Thunder to pick up the story. They’d gotten a local with a big mouth drunk and the man spilled as much information as he could before passing out face-first on the bar.
Farhad had been missing longer than Tex had found out. It seemed because someone had been using Farhad’s credit card to save face. In actuality, Farhad had been missing since Afram’s death. If he’d been around the funeral would never have been so soon.
“He got rid of Farhad.” Zahrah’s voice cracked. “He got rid of the one person who would question him—the one person who would have had objections to our father being buried so soon without an investigation. If Farhad was
gone before dad died, that means…”
“Don’t jump to conclusion.” Zero told her. “Farhad could just be locked up somewhere.”
“Why keep him alive?” Zahrah challenged. “If Farhad is gone, then Hadeel gets it all.”
“Not according to what the will says.” Ronin was already on the laptop. “I know Tex had a copy of it here.”
They all watched Ronin until he cheered. “Ha! It says here if Farhad was to die before Hadeel, the entire estate goes to Zahrah. If Zahrah and Farhad are dead before Hadeel, the estate goes to some organization for violence against women.”
Everyone blinked silently.
“What did you know, father?” Zahrah asked. “He knew something. Something must have changed. When I told him about Gulzar he was adamant I was lying. Now, he leaves me an inheritance and those clauses in his will. None of it makes any sense.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Cyclops agreed. “I believe your father knew something was wrong. He probably knew Hadeel was a little shit and would be coming for him. There was probably was nothing he could have done to stop what he saw in the horizons. If that’s the case, he knew how to use his death be a major blow to Hadeel.”
“Yeah—now this little shit, as you call him, thinks I’m in his way of getting something he didn’t earn.” Zahrah leaned heavily into the seat. “How do we stop any of this?”
“First, we see what’s in that safe you brought in.” Thunder pointed.
But that was easier said than done. The safe had a digital lock.
Thunder studied it carefully for a spell then looked up at Cyclops. “You need a code for it and if we guess wrong three times, we’d have to wait a week to try again.”
“Oh-kay. Then how do we get into it?” Zahrah asked. “They are obviously trying to hide something.”
“Maybe it was your dad.” Ronin said.
“Maybe.” She whispered.
“Can Tex help us?” Thunder asked. “I don’t want to mess with it.”
Cyclops agreed to call Tex but when someone answered on the other side, it wasn’t the face of the Texan. Instead, Caroline leaned forward and smiled.
“Dec!” She greeted him. “Darius! Long time!”
“I know.” Darius pouted. “You went off and broke my heart by marrying some other soldier.”
She giggled. “Well, you know? This soldier loves me.”
“Fine.” Darius winked at her. “As long as he does.”
She blew Darius a kiss then turned her stare to Cyclops. “How are you guys holding up?”
“As well as can be expected.” Cyclops replied. “This is Ryosuke Saito.
“Thunder.” The Japanese man gave her a mock salute.
“And I wanted you to meet…” Cyclops stopped and looked around. Zahrah was no longer in the room with them and he frowned. “Where’d she go?”
Zero pointed down the hall.
“I was going to introduce you to Zahrah.” Cyclops said. “Anyway, is Tex around?”
“Yeah.” Caroline replied. “His wife is heading to get her hair done and he’s—um—saying goodbye.”
It took a couple of minutes and us talking to Carline before Tex returned. When he did, he fell into the overstuffed chair and leaned forward to eye the safe as Ronin turned it around and around.
“Um…” Tex tilted his head. “Ronin, hold it high above your head and drop it.”
“What?” Thunder jumped in. “What if that affects the lock?”
“It’s an electrical safe.” Tex shrugged. “And not a very good one. They stopped making them about fifteen years ago because for something to keep things private—well, let’s just say the model was…um…flawed. Trust me…drop it.”
The guys exchanges looks, but Ronin gave a one shoulder shrug, climbed to the chair, lifted the safe above his head then let it fall. It hit the ground but didn’t budge. Tex insisted on them doing it again and the second time was the charm. The safe opened but the only thing to fall out was a folded piece of paper.
Thunder picked it up and handed it to Cyclops. “Tex, we’ll hit you back.”
Before Tex could reply, Cyclops was already headed down the hall toward Zahrah’s room. He knocked and listened while Zahrah scampered around on the other side, he waited, wondering what was happening.
When she finally opened the door, he could tell she had been crying.
“Want to talk about it?” He asked.
“No. What’s up?”
Cyclops nodded. “Okay. We got the safe open.”
“Really? What was in it?”
“Can I come in?” He asked.
She hesitated. He saw it in the way her eyes searched his face. Eventually, she stepped to the side and he walked in. When she closed the door, he sat on the bed and extended a hand to her. She accepted it and Cyclops pulled her to him then lifted her to the bed. “This piece of paper was in the safe.” Cyclops extended it to her.
Her hands shook while she unfolded it and for a moment, all she did was read. She licked her lips and sniffled. “If you’re reading this.” Zahrah read out loud. “I’m dead and Hadeel Jaroozi is the culprit. Afram.”
“That’s all it says?” Cyclops wanted to know. “How does he know Hadeel would have been the one?”
“A father knows, I guess.” Zahrah cried softly. “Sometimes I feel like having such a messed-up family is punishment for something I’ve done. I mean, what could I have done to warrant this?”
“Don’t carry this.” Cyclops told her. “This is the doings of a crazy idiot who thinks the world owes him something.”
“Can you imagine knowing you’re about to be killed by your own child?” Zahrah rose to pace the room. “How terrifying and heartbreaking would that be?”
“Kitten, come here.”
She frowned at him but kept right on pacing. Cyclops left her then to hand over the letter to the others. He asked Ronin to take a picture of it and send to Tex to see if he could find anything in the writing. In the meantime, the others would get some sleep as they had spent the last little while following shadows into the heated core of Egypt. Once they were all settled into what they wanted to do, Cyclops made his way back to Zahrah’s bedroom and drew her into his arms.
“I know a way of taking your mind off everything.” Cyclops held her. “At least for a little while, I want you to focus on me. Nothing outside this room matters. Tell me what you want to do to me.”
“You’re temptation, Declan.” Zahrah’s voice trembled. “You can’t mean that.”
He smiled and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. With every small, rounded dot to be released from its hole, Zahrah sighed and took a step away from him. When he pushed the shirt off his shoulders and allowed it to puddle on the floor, she bit into her bottom lip. Cyclops stepped forward, closing the space between them slowly.
“What’s on your mind for my body, Kitten?” Cyclops asked. “I can take whatever sinful creation you can cook up.”
Zahrah closed her eyes and Cyclops stopped in front of her and waited. Though she wasn’t looking at him, Zahrah lifted her hands and rested her palms on his pecks.
“You’re so warm.” She whispered. “So hard.”
He flexed for her, causing his pecs to pop. She giggled and turned to watch them.
“I’m scared.”
“Of what?” Cyclops asked. “Me?”
“Yes—I mean—no. I mean—damn.”
He sighed and caught her chin to lift her head. “I will remain hands off. For now, this is all about you. So, talk to me.”
“I can’t think with you standing here all buff and—I want to taste your skin, to feel your lips on my neck, to hear you breathe heavily and know it’s because of me.”
Cyclops bowed his head, giving her access to his mouth. He trembled under her touch when their lips met—soft and gentle. The softness of her lips, the taste of her tongue, all of it tickled his heart and edged his control. True to his word, he folded his arms behind his back and allowed he
r to drag her palms up his chest to his neck. Her fingers soft against his skin drew him closer to her as she deepened the kiss, coiled her tongue with his and moaned when he released his control to her.
She pulled her lips from him and nibbled at his neck, made circular patters against his flesh and sucked. Each pull of her mouth was as if she was tasting from the deepest, most intimate part of him. He moaned, tilted his head back as her mouth moved lower and lower, between his pecs then across to engulf one nipple.
“Kitten…” He sighed, lacing his fingers and locking them in place to hold on to the promise he’d made her. This wasn’t about his pleasure. This was for Zahrah, for her satisfaction, for her joy.
But how could he have imagined she’d make him want to fly?
Zahrah kissed him again, a little rougher this time. Even as her mouth fused with him, her hands traced his body—his shoulders, down his arms, his chest and down to his hips. She looped her fingers with his pants and pressed her softness into him. Her nipples poked at him through her top and he wondered if she’d like him to pull on them for her—maybe twist them, suck on them…bite them?
The thought sent fire flaring through his veins and he wrenched his lips from hers and stepped away.
“What’s wrong?” Zahrah asked, using a finger to trace up his arm.
“I—” He swallowed and looked down to watch the finger make a path against him. “I need a moment to regain control.”
She smiled shyly and bowed her head.
“Come now, Kitten.” He rasped. Cyclops reached for her. This time he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his body. “A second ago you were driving me wild with your mouth. Now, you’re shy?”
“I am shy. I know, it’s not sexy. But I’m not used to men talking to me the way you have.”
“No?”
“No. You bring out this wildness in me, Declan.”
“Embrace the woman you are, Kitten.” Cyclops kissed her nose. “You’re a sexy, sexy woman.”
Zahrah smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
Defending Zahrah Page 12