Defending Zahrah

by Kendra Mei Chailyn

  She sighed and set her toiletries bag into the duffle.

  “I figure you could use these,” Miracle said from the door.

  Zahrah shifted to face her and smiled. “You don’t have to…”

  “No one has to do anything.” Miracle set the pile down on the side of the bed and sat beside it. “I’ve been where you are. And if someone hadn’t been kind to me, I think I would have fallen apart.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. A very long story. But I had Beast, and the others. They really rallied around me even though they didn’t know me from Adam.”

  “I bet that’s nice to have.”

  “It was. It is.”

  “Why does Beast call you Fleur?”

  “According to him, I’m as beautiful as a flower.” Miracle sighed as she stared at her engagement ring for a silent moment then looked up at Zahrah.

  “He’s German, isn’t he?”

  Miracle nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then why give you a French nickname?”

  “These boys love their pet names.” Miracle explained. “They tend to give them to people who means something to them.”

  “I don’t know about all that…but a French name?”

  “My Beast was raised by French nuns.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Miracle rubbed my shoulder affectionately. “It was a long time ago. And he has me now. I’m hoping I’ll be able to give him a family soon.”

  “I’m sure he considers you his family.”

  “Yes.” Miracle giggle. “But he would make a wonderful father. We talk all the time about it and he’s ready. I’m more than ready.”

  “Wow. You’re a very lucky woman, Fleur.” Zahrah sighed. “I’m jealous of you.”

  Miracle laughed softly. “Don’t be. You’re a beautiful woman. Anyway, how did we get to talking about this? Oh, right, nicknames., Keep in mind though, once they give you a nickname, it will stick.”

  Zahrah laughed softly. “Oh boy.”

  “You’ve already gotten one—what is it?”

  “I think it’s Kitten.”

  Miracle laughed. “I like it. Listen, everything will work out. If Cyclops is at all like the others, you have nothing to worry about. You’ll be safe.”

  “Yeah.” Zahrah picked up the underwear Miracle had given her. The red lace of it made Zahrah blushed.

  “Don’t worry—it’s clean and new. I washed it after purchasing it, so the tags had to come off.”

  “Thank you.” Zahrah quickly shoved it into the bag. “I’m just not used to red lace.”

  “Every woman deserves to have two things in her closet. One, a little black dress and two some form of red lace. Even if you’re not with someone.” Miracle scooted up to the headboard and hugged a pillow. “Sometimes it’s fun to slip into the lace and dance around your bedroom.”

  Zahrah blushed even more. “I don’t know about that. I think I’d only wear red lace if I was brave enough and with someone. Do they really like—this, lace?”

  “Some men do.” Miracle replied. “Some men like the lingerie on just so they can—um—tear it off.”

  “Oh!”

  “Offended?”

  Zahrah giggled. “Offended? Surprised? Yes.”

  “Trust me, Zahrah, Lingerie wasn’t meant to come off the body in one piece. If it does, you’re doing it wrong.”

  Zahrah’s cheeks were on fire.

  “If you’re with someone, its fun to find out how he likes it.” Miracle continued then paused for a breath. “Are you with someone?”

  Zahrah shook her head while packing the rest of the things Miracle had given her. “I haven’t had time. Besides, men see the headscarf and run. I’m not sure why. I mean, I could stop wearing it, but any man who cannot accept me—all of me, does he really deserve me?”

  “Girl! Took me forever to learn that lesson.” Miracle applauded. “Beast didn’t give up on me and I had to push and push until I’m almost to that height of enlightenment.”

  “Enlightenment?” Zahrah laughed. “I don’t know about that.”

  Miracle chuckled. “A good man will see beyond your background and he won’t care if you wear a hijab or not. It won’t matter if you’re a Muslim or a Christian or a Klingon. He will love you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Let’s just say, I’d given up on being anything to anyone. Then here comes Beast, sashaying his hips and driving a girl crazy.”

  They laughed together like old time friends.

  “—say, Cyclops is kinda cute.”

  Zahrah choked on hair then shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, he’s cute. But no.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s a good guy. I can tell, deep down he’s one of the ones our mothers would approve of. But I never want to be the other woman to any man.”

  “The other woman? He’s dating someone?”

  “I think so.” Zahrah was sick to his stomach with the admission. “He’s always talking about his Caro.”

  “Are you jealous?”

  Zahrah arched a brow. “Jealous? If who?”

  “Caro.”

  “Yes! I mean, no. I mean—shut up.”

  Miracle laughed. “Carline is married to one of our friends. From what I know, Cyclops is an old friend of Caroline’s.”

  “You mean…”

  “They aren’t together and will never get together.” Miracle smiled. “Caroline is married to Wolf who is also one of our guys. A little unsolicited advice?”

  Zahrah nodded.

  “you should never be afraid or ashamed of wanting someone. We’re human beings.”

  “True.”

  “I don’t know Cyclops.” Miracle continued. “You’re going to have to get to know him and figure out if he’s worthy of you. But don’t let fear or pressures of family or whatever other bullshit we use to walk away from a good thing, get in the way. Okay?”

  “What if I’m too shy?”

  Miracle set her pillow aside and scooted off the bed. “Then that’s a whole other ball of wax. These men don’t want shy. Wanna know how I first saw Beast?”

  “Sure.”

  “The first time I laid eyes on him, he was pretending to be a stripper, giving me a lap dance.”

  Zahrah giggled. “Really?”

  “Really, really.” Miracle nodded. “I had gotten in some trouble, reached out to Tex and my favorite Texan sent me an army.”

  “Wow—I think I’d die if Cyclops decided to give me a lap dance. Just the thought of that rich, cocoa skin, and all those muscles—I mean, can you imagine that body naked?”

  “Well…”

  “I know. You have Beast.” Zahrah inhaled, held it then pushed the breath out her mouth. “Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

  “You don’t really believe that, right?”

  “You know—I’d like a man to rip red lace off my body—of Declan tearing red lace off my body.” The truth in that confession stunned her. She remained breathless, staring at Miracle. “I—I—I mean—”

  Miracle smirked. “Finish packing and come down for something to eat.”

  Zahrah nodded. “Thanks for the talk. I’ve never had girl-talk before. It was nice.”

  “Any time. I mean that.”

  Miracle stopped to pat her shoulder then left Zahrah alone with her thoughts. Slowly, Zahrah finished packing, rinsed her mouth again then looked at herself in the mirror. She adjusted her head scarf, took a few cleansing breaths, then grabbed her bag and headed down to the living room. She stopped to place her bag by the door with Declan’s before making her way toward the voices.

  When she entered, it was a full house. She stepped through the archway just as they all erupted in laughter. She waved and moved to Declan’s side.

  “You must be Zahrah.” The woman with the cute face, and a body Zahrah would definitely kill, for waved. “I’m Sabine Henson.”

  “And they call you?” Zahrah asked.

  The woman giggled. “Barbi
e.”

  “Which is weird because she’s a sniper.” Mouth teased.

  The others chuckled then switched gears. It didn’t take long for all the food to disappear. Soon, they were on their way. Pitbull and Barbie would drive Zahrah and Cyclops to the airstrip. Which meant Zahrah and Declan had to say goodbye to the others at the house. She didn’t want to leave—not yet. She’d never had a family like this before, never had girl talk either and she didn’t want to let it all go. The gang was loving, they were funny and welcomed her without a second thought. She went through the motions and on the ride, remained quiet until they pulled up at the plane.

  “Thank Beast and Fleur again for me,” Zahrah said. “I really appreciate them for what they’ve done. And you guys too.”

  “No trouble at all.” Barbie told her. “You take care of yourself, okay? If you need anything, find Tex and he’ll find us.”

  Zahrah nodded, gave Pitbull a meaningful look. He nodded at her and the motion alone gave her a little more strength than she had before. After offering him a small smile, she turned toward the stairs leading into the plane. She stopped at the top before entering to look over to see Declan was shaking hands with Pitbull.

  Soon, they were settled in their seats with the plane climbing higher and higher into the sky. Her stomach did a strange little flip that left her nauseous and tired. She closed her eyes, trying to stop the racing of her heart and the spinning of her head.

  “Kitten?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Tell me what’s happening.”

  Zahrah opened her eyes. Declan was hunched in front of her, his brown eyes filled with concern. “You’ve barely said two words since we left Beast and Fleur’s place.”

  “I don’t like flying.” She admitted. “I haven’t been on a plane in years and over the past few days I’ve been on two. Plus, the sense of rushing to my doom is quite palpable.”

  “The only thing I can offer to ease some of the tension are my arms.”

  She blinked at him. Had he really said what she thought he did? No, that couldn’t be right—it was all in her head and she was an idiot for thinking it.

  “I’m sorry.” Declan rose. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Zahrah kept her eyes on him until he went to his seat and fell into the leather. He stretched his legs out in front of him and rested his head back. When he closed his eyes, she undid her seatbelt. Slowly, she moved across the small space, climbed into his lap and cuddled her head under his chin.

  For a moment, Declan did nothing.

  Her heart went wild, wondering if she’d misread the ques. A man had never offered to hold her before. Not even Craig. He would hug her when she was down but nothing like this.

  Then his arms circled her, he shifted slight as if to get more comfortable and he rested his chin to the top of her head. Zahrah remained like that for the entire flight. She fell asleep and the nightmares were nowhere to be seen. It was like the madness in her head had recognized the light of his kindness.

  “Kitten.” Declan’s voice was soft, like warm honey flowing over her skin. “Kitten?”

  Zahrah moaned and snuggled even closer to him.

  “Kitten, I need you to open your eyes.” Declan called softly.

  “I’m not ready.” Zahrah muttered. “I’m dreaming of red lace being torn off my body.”

  Silence.

  “You are?” Declan’s voice was soft, husky. “And who is doing the tearing?”

  Zahrah buried her face into his neck and groaned her embarrassment.

  Declan laughed softly. “Kitten?”

  “Hrm?” She replied against his flesh.

  “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head.

  “Would you like me to pretend you didn’t say that out loud?”

  She nodded.

  Declan chuckled. “Okay. As you wish.”

  Zahrah sat up but still couldn’t meet his eyes. Sure, she was dreaming of him peeling her clothes from her body. The sharp sound of material coming apart turned her on.

  “We’re here.” Declan told her.

  She scrambled from his arms even though the last thing she wanted was for him to stop holding her. But she didn’t want to be in Cairo either. “Thank you.” It was a wonder she could form one word, much less two. Weak, and on shaky legs, Zahrah hurried over to where her bag sat on one of the extra seats.

  This time when they stepped from the plane, they were on their own in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a black SUV with tinted windows and diplomatic plates. The pilot hadn’t even exited to speak with then. The flight itself had no hostesses or hosts.

  Zahrah shook off her curiosity and allowed one foot to slide in front of the other. She tried going over their cover in her head. According to their story, Zahrah was no longer Jaroozi. She was Afira Drummond, wife to Declan Drummond, a foreign businessman.

  Even as she climbed into the passenger seat and strapped in, she couldn’t help feeling as if she was betraying everything she thought was good. Sure, she loved the idea of being a wife, and the thought of being Declan’s wife aroused her. But it was lying.

  She sighed. Craig always told her in order to make an omelette she had to break a few eggs.

  The engine roared around her and the car eased forward.

  Zahrah supposed the lies were the eggs and telling them would be breaking them. After a few cleansing breaths, she sighed. “I’m your wife, huh?”

  “I know it may not be ideal for you…”

  “Actually, I don’t mind it at all.”

  Declan glanced over at her but before he could say anything, Tex’s face popped up on the screen in the center of the dashboard.

  “Are you going to always do that?” Zahrah asked. “You just scared the hell out of me.”

  Tex smirked. “This face can launch ships, my beauty.”

  Though Zahrah wanted to keep being upset with Tex, she just couldn’t. Instead, she grunted and looked out the window.

  “What’s up?” Declan asked.

  “We have an address for you,” Tex said. “Watch your back, eh? This could be a dummy and we both know what that means.”

  “I don’t.” Zahrah leaned forward.

  “A dummy address—means it could be an address the members of this group are given to send anyone who captures them.”

  “In other words, a trap.” Zahrah frowned.

  Tex nodded.

  “Then why not just say so?” Zahrah folded her arms. “Is there anything else?”

  “Not right now,” Tex said. “I like you, Zahrah. You don’t mince words.”

  She winked at him. “But seriously, if we have nothing else—maybe we should wait until we find something else.”

  “We can’t.” Declan checked his mirrors as he spoke. “We want to spend as little time in this country as possible. If this address can give us something, we should check it out. We won’t engage—this is solely a fact-finding mission.”

  Tex nodded. “I’ll have Beast and his people on standby. You may not be able to get the entire group but…”

  “Any help we can get.” Declan told him.

  “Exactly.” Tex agreed. “Okay, I sent the address to your burner. I’m goin’ to need both of you to turn off your other phones and remove the battery and sim cards.”

  “I didn’t bring my phone. I figured it wouldn’t do any good here.” Zahrah informed them.

  “Already done,” Declan said. “The only one I have active is the burner. We’re going straight to the address. We have a few more hours of darkness left, we might as well use it.”

  “The earpieces Mozart gave you. Use them.” Tex leaned forward. “Use them. That way, if you need help, I can back you up.”

  Zahrah sighed and Tex’s face vanished. She waited until Declan consulted the phone for the address, tapped it in, then began following the instructions from the phone’s GPS.

  The directions took out just outside Cairo inside the district of Shubra. The place was heav
ily populated, with a large number of mosques and Coptic churches. Zahrah squirmed in her seat and fixed her headscarf. She wasn’t sure if she should be terrified or not the deeper into the district they went. Finally, the GPS said their destination was on the left. Declan didn’t stop but drove a little way down to park in a sea of other vehicles. From there, they watched the house. It was hard for Zahrah to see much of anything in the dark.

  Declan on the other hand, was caught up in watching the comings and goings of men. After about an hour, Declan turned to her. “You should probably come with me,” he said. “But keep your head down, good?”

  She frowned. “Fine.”

  He didn’t seem impressed with that reply, but he unlocked the doors and they both climbed out. Declan reached back and took her hand. She trembled under his touch. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

  They tumbled across the street in the darkness up to a wall then snuck along its length. Declan stopped and peered around and drew himself back quickly. Two men walked out, speaking in rapid Arabic.

  Declan looked around to her. She blushed heavily in the dark.

  “Um—they are talking about a woman’s breasts.” Zahrah squeaked.

  “Wow—okay.” Declan peered around again and this time he drew her after him.

  She stumbled a few times over uneven ground. The loose soil moved in different directions than she wanted it. The one time she was actually falling, Declan caught her with practiced ease, and they continued until they were against the actual building. Moving through the darkness was problematic for her.

  Declan was like a cat burglar or a Ninja.

  At a back window, he raised his head and looked in. When he didn’t draw his head down, she took a chance and did the same. The room was empty except for a couple of men sharing a hookah. They chatted excitedly and though she wished she recognized them, Zahrah didn’t.

  Declan pulled her down and they continued to another window. When they looked in, this time the room was packed. The men were sharing hookahs and having a loud conversation. Declan looked to Zahrah again who frowned.

  “They are talking about the next step in a…project.” She explained. “They keep calling it wazifat khasa. Roughly, special job.”

  “Okay.”

  “It didn’t go as planned.” She whispered then paused. “And that with God’s help, they won’t fail again. They’re blaming someone—I don’t know if they mean king or someone name Malik—for the disappointment. They said he was greedy and impatient and they’re blaming that for the failure.”