“That’s a sexy name. I mean Declannnnn.” Zahrah allowed the name to roll off her tongue.
He chuckled.
“Why do they call you Cyclops.” She asked.
“I earned the name Cyclops.”
“How?”
“Long story. And we don’t have time for it.” He stood and closed the kit. “I’m going to take a look around. Then I’ll be on my way. But you really should call the police, Zahrah.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He nodded and headed for the door.
“Hey!” Zahrah called. “Can I take you out for a breakfast or something?”
“Are you asking me out, Zahrah?” He stared at her over a muscular shoulder.
“You’ve literally saved my life today.” Zahrah rose. The movement caused her to wince. “Twice. I can never repay you for that but buying you breakfast will alleviate some of my guilt.”
“No guilt. I promise.”
“Declan, please.”
He sighed. “I tell you what—how about this Saturday, I come over and you can make me lunch?”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Okay. You’ve got yourself a date.” She grinned at him.
“I thought it wasn’t a date.”
“What’re you, a lawyer?” Zahrah pouted. “Lunch on Saturday. And it will be delicious.”
He offered her a mock salute. “Lock up after me.”
Zahrah hurried after him and waited until he stepped through before she closed and locked the door. She watched through the peephole as Declan looked around the front yard then disappeared around the side of the house. She didn’t stay there for long. Instead, she hobbled back to the kitchen. Zahrah made herself some tea then climbed the stairs to her bedroom. After stripping down, she eased her body under the sheets, sipped from her tea then relax against some pillows and the headboard.
Someone was intentionally targeting her. It could be one of any number of things. People saw her wearing the headwrap and they immediately think Muslim and most often than not, terrorist. It broke her soul that a few idiots ruined it for everyone else. But there was nothing she could do about any of that. The head dress stayed until—
Zahrah sighed. That would never happen. She’d sworn off her dreams of marriage and children a long time ago. Which meant the headscarf wasn’t going anywhere.
Maybe Declan was right.
Maybe she should call the police.
Chapter 2
Cyclops hated crowds. But when Caroline Martin sent an invitation, there was no declining. He had no idea how she found him or that he was heading home when he did. The last thing Declan wanted to do after leaving the Marines was go to some big summer function. He parked on the street, shoved his cell into his pocket and checked his teeth for lettuce. After a quick breath, he alighted from the jeep, jogged across the street and followed the sound of happiness to the house he was looking for.
When he stepped through the gate, someone screamed, and he turned with enough time to catch Caroline into his chest. Laughing, he picked her up, twirled her around and set her back on her feet. He couldn’t miss the men staring daggers in his direction.
Still, he grinned down into Caroline’s face. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” She smacked his arm. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Here. There. Everywhere.” Cyclops smirked while tilting his head in one of the men’s direction. “Is that the big bad Wolf?”
“How do you know?”
“If looks could kill—I’d be dead.”
“Declan Stone, you behave.” She warned hitting his shoulder again. “Come, you have to meet my guys.”
Cyclops didn’t want to. Still he allowed her to loop her arm with his and led him over to the others like a sheep to slaughter.
“Guys, this is Doctor Declan Stone…”
“Don’t go by doctor anymore.” Declan corrected her.
She nodded then began motioning to people. “Tex, Benny, Mozart, Dude, Cookie, Wraith—his fiancée Amelia. And this—this is my husband, Matthew.”
“Wolf,” Matthew said, extending a hand.
Cyclops shook it. “Nice to meet you all.”
“Can I get you a beer?” Wolf asked.
“I probably shouldn’t.” Cyclops declined. “I’m not really staying and I’m driving.”
“Seriously?” Caroline asked. “I haven’t seen you since—since—forever and you’re just popping in?”
“I just got off a plane from Rammstein. I’m exhausted.” He told her. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I spent the last couple of nights in a hotel bed that feels like a damn marshmallow. Besides, you’re with family.”
“You were considered family once, Dec.” Caroline told him. “You think time will change that? I will get you a drink and a plate. You at least have that much time, right?”
Cyclops smiled and nodded. There was no denying the woman.
She patted his shoulder. “Good.”
The one she introduced as Benny drew up an extra chair and Cyclops thanked him by falling into it. He stretched his legs out and glanced around. They had at least three grills going. A couple of African American kids ran around playing tag. Other people were standing around chatting and laughing and someone was messing with the music system.
“So, how do you know Ice?”
Cyclops cleared his throat and refocused on the group. He had no idea who asked the question. “I’m sorry, who?”
“Ice—Caroline?” Wraith asked.
Amelia tapped his thigh. “Baby—behave.”
“What?” Wraith asked, leaning in to kiss her shoulder.
“They’re going to give you the third degree,” Amelia told him. “They mean well.”
Cyclops laughed. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Caro and I were friends a long time ago. She helped me through some stuff.”
“We can understand that,” Wolf said.
“I get it now.” Tex blurted out. “I knew your name from somewhere. Cyclops.”
They all turned to look at Tex.
“You know him?” Dude wanted to know. “How?”
“He’s one of the best.” Tex leaned forward. “Two point five miles—confirmed kill shot.”
Cyclops rubbed the back of his neck wishing Caroline would hurry up or the floor would open and swallow him. Still, he managed a one shoulder shrug. “I guess.”
The others went silent and for a moment, Cyclops was able to breathe again. Caroline returned with food and though he wasn’t particularly hungry, he ate the ribs, drank half the glass of lemonade then excused himself to wander around. His lower back was killing him. He’d left the airport a day and a half ago and still hadn’t made it to his place. All he really wanted was a long shower and a good night’s sleep in his home.
“What’s on your mind?” Caroline’s voice was soft behind him.
Without turning, he exhaled softly. “Nice family you’ve gathered.”
“Yeah. They love me.” She looked over at the people around them. “When are you going to gather one of your own?”
He chuckled. “I thought I already had one.”
She crinkled her nose at him. “You know what I mean.”
“You and I both know that’s never going to happen.”
“Dec, you’re going to have to forgive yourself.” Caroline sighed. “One day, you’re going to have to realize the only person who sees you in a bad light is you.”
“I don’t feel redeemable.”
“Well, these things take time.” Caroline sipped from her beer. “They do—but how long are you going to keep torturing yourself?”
“All I’m saying is, you have love here.”
“So do you.”
Cyclops shook his head. “I have Darius and mom. That’s enough—isn’t it?”
“Can you make love to Darius or your mom?”
Cyclops made a face. “Of course not.”
“There’s your answer.”
He
frowned and inhaled deeply. “I met a woman.”
“That’s great!” Caroline cheered. “Did you get her number?”
“No. It wasn’t like that.” He cleared his throat. “All I’m saying is she had me thinking of possibilities. But that’s stupid, right?”
“No. What’s stupid is you thinking you’re an island.”
“Ice!” Wolf called. “We need you to help us cut the cake.”
“It’s a cake, babe!” She hollered back. “Just cut it.”
“You both know I’ll mess this up.”
“He’s right.” Caroline bounced Cyclops with her shoulder. “He’s very heavy handed. Want a piece of cake?”
“No, thanks. I should head out.”’
Caroline hugged him tightly. “Don’t be a stranger. I mean it.”
“I know, Caro.”
“Say goodbye to the fellows?”
He didn’t want to. Thinking about Zahrah and the thoughts she’d sent swirling through his head angered him. He had no right to want to kiss her lips or see if her cheeks were as soft as he’d imagined. The weakness he found in those thoughts made him want to growl.
Still, he did as Caroline asked.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Cookie said. “Any friend of Ice’s…”
Cyclops thanked them and headed back to his Jeep. For a moment, he sat behind the wheel, leaning back on the headrest with his eyes closed. It was strange seeing Caroline as a wife. But the entire time he was with the group, he saw just how happy she was. Wolf had calmed down once he realized who Cyclops really was. The truth, Cyclops didn’t blame Wolf. The man loved Caroline, it only made sense for him to get his back up.
Eventually, he managed to drive himself to his Condo and locked himself inside. The place was foreign to him. He’d bought it with the help of an agent while still on deployment. It was sterile and cold and not a home.
After a quick shower, he pulled a blanket to the floor of his bedroom, dropped a pillow and yanked the sheet off the bed. He plugged the cell in by his head and settled on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His lower back throbbed with his exhaustion
Sleep wouldn’t come. Cyclops knew no matter what he did, he would remain wide awake, back throbbing, head pounding and, sleep was a bitch. So, he thought of Zahrah. He thought of her scent—strawberries in heat. He thought of her eyes and the anger he felt seeing those men stomp on her as if she was nothing.
She was the lullaby to soothe him to sleep. For the first time in years, Cyclops slept through the night. When morning came, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He spent most of the day out trying to get himself back into civilian life. After grocery shopping, Cyclops stopped to pick up a few pairs of jeans and underwear. He then decided to swing by Zahrah and give her his number. She had asked him over for breakfast and just in case she wanted to change her mind or—
Cyclops slowed to a stop, turned off the engine and climbed from the jeep. Something was wrong. Emergency services were parked out front of Zahrah’s store. His heart raced as he broke into a jog toward the property. When he finally saw what was happening, the store was partially burnt to the ground. It was still smoldering. Firefighters were still hosing water in it.
“I’m sorry sir. You can’t go in there.” Someone held his shoulder.
“Where’s Zahrah?” Cyclops asked.
“You are?”
Cyclops turned to glare at the cop. “A friend. Where is she?”
The cop thumbed toward an ambulance and Cyclops thought for sure his heart would jump out his mouth. Without waiting for permission, he lifted the caution tape and jogged over to the ambulance. Zahrah was sitting in the ambulance with an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. A female paramedic was rubbing her back gently. She was scraped up, as though she’d gone through glass. Her hijab was singed.
He arched a brow.
“Zahrah?” Cyclops called.
She turned to look at him.
“You know, Kitten, if you wanted to get out of making me breakfast, there are other ways.” He teased.
She laughed then started coughing.
“Don’t make her laugh!” The paramedic chastised but smiled. “Come on up.”
Cyclops did as she suggested and sat across from Zahrah. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and met her eyes over the mask.
“A girl must be dramatic.” She lifted the mask away from her face. “I didn’t have your number, so I had to get your attention somehow.” She teased then return the mask over her mouth and nose.
He smiled. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted the mask away. “I was in the store early this morning trying to get a few things ordered. I smelled smoke.”
“Are they taking you to the hospital?”
“No. I have a few scratches, but nothing is broken.”
“And smoke?”
“I’m fine, Declan.”
“Can I take you home?” Cyclops asked her. “I can make you lunch—you can rest a little before you have to tackle the clean-up.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Sure.”
They cleared it with the paramedics and the cops. Cyclops helped her into the jeep and closed the door. When he jogged around and climbed in, he knew Zahrah was crying. She kept her eyes averted out the window even as he pulled away from the scene. She didn’t once look back at the destruction.
“You have insurance, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will help you rebuild.”
“I don’t know if I want to rebuild—can we please not talk about it?”
He nodded. From what he saw of the scene, something wasn’t right. Sure, he didn’t know anything about fires, but he knew shady. First the bulb issues. Then she was attacked. Now, her store conveniently burnt down. Something wasn’t right and even though he could never have Zahrah as his own, he was going to damn well find out who was behind this mess and kick their asses.
The rage inside him was unbelievable.
When he pulled into the underground lot at his Condo, Zahrah had fallen asleep. Instead of waking her, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the elevator. All along the ride up to his place, Zahrah only moaned his name and snuggled into his chest. Cyclops tried not reading anything into that—it was only because he was the last person she’d seen before she’d fallen into slumber.
In his condo, he placed her in the bed of the guestroom, removed her shoes and pulled the sheets up to her shoulders. He left her alone and returned to his jeep to bring his shopping in, packed away the groceries and dropped his clothes into his bedroom. He didn’t make anything. When she woke up, she could tell him what she was hungering for.
He was digging through the internet to see what he could find on her store when his phone rang. Caroline was checking in on him.
“Hey Caro,” Cyclops said. “Yes, I’ve been eating and sleeping.”
She laughed. “Smartass. How are you?”
“I’m good. Trying to help a friend.”
“Anything I can do?”
He smiled. Ensuring he was alone, he told her the story about Zahrah. Caroline made an impatient sound in her throat then screamed for Wolf. Cyclops buried his face into his palm and groaned. “Caro, you don’t have to…”
“Who is in trouble?” Wolf asked.
“You’re on speaker, Dec.” Caroline warned.
“I don’t know if anything is wrong. It could just all be a bunch of coincidences.” Cyclops told them.
“You’re a soldier, Cyclops,” Wolf said. “We don’t believe in coincidences.”
Cyclops groaned. Wolf was right.
“I’ve been doing some digging online to see if I could find anything,” Cyclops said. “So far, nothing.”
“Don’t worry,” Wolf said. “I have a guy.”
“You really don’t have to.” Cyclops told him.
“Actually, I do.” Wolf told him. “Ice says you’re family.”
“That’s right.” Caro
line said from the background. “And in this family, we do for our own. Now, say yes.”
Cyclops laughed. “Okay, yes. Thank you.”
“Let me make a call,” Wolf said. “We’ll call once we find something.”
There was a shuffle from the other end of the line, followed by kissing before Caroline’s voice came back. She cleared her throat first. “Don’t worry, if there’s anything to find, they will find it. So, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“This woman—is she cute?”
Cyclops laughed softly. “Stop playing cupid. I’m not her type.”
“Educated. Sexy. Badass—and you have a nice butt—is everyone’s type.”
“Thanks for the compliment but…wait, you’ve been checking out my butt?”
“Everyone checks out your butt.” Caroline told him.
“Um…”
Caroline sighed. “I’m not letting this go.”
“I figured as much, but I have to go. I promised her lunch and I haven’t started anything yet.”
“She’s had a shitty day—make her something that’s not fussy. Best? Something she can eat with her fingers.” Caroline advised.
“Thanks, sister.”
Caroline laughed. “We’ll call you later. And Dec?”
“Yeah?”
“I just got you back. I’m not losing you again.”
Her words sobered him. “I have no intentions of going anywhere again, Caro.”
“Good. Later.”
Cyclops hung up the phone and relaxed in the leather of his chair. He had to figure out some way of getting into the scene. There was something there—there had to be. First, he had to figure out lunch. With his head trying to figure out a plan, he hurried into the kitchen and looked through all the food he’d bought. In the end, he found some spinach dip and rice crackers. He settled for that, and a bowl of fruits—grapes, watermelon and strawberries. He grabbed a couple bottles of juice and carried what he’d found into the guestroom.
She was sitting up in bed and smiled when he entered. “Sorry, I fell asleep on you. How long was I out?”
“About an hour.” Cyclops set his loot down on the bedside table. “Sorry, Kitten, I don’t have a tray.”
Defending Zahrah Page 2
