Page 68 of Azrael

Gator leaned forward, his face creased with concern.“Did he hurt you bad?”he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

Mazida’s gaze darted to him, then away.“Yes,” she whispered.“When he realized I would not cooperate, he…” She paused, swallowing hard.“He beat me.Said he would beat the American out of me.That I had forgotten who I was, what I was.”

The room had gone completely still.Even the usual background noises of the clubhouse -- the hum of the refrigerator, the distant sound of bikes in the compound -- seemed to have fallen silent.In that moment, there was only Mazida’s voice and the collective rage building among my brothers.

“After, when I was still conscious, he told me about Carter.”Her voice cracked.Carter Colton -- Zara’s father.“Balal said Carter’s death was not an accident.That he had arranged it, made it look like a heart attack, but it had taken him years to find us again afterward.I hadn’t been able to stay in the home I’d shared with my husband.It was too painful.”

“Son of a bitch,” someone muttered behind me.

I watched Gator’s knuckles go white as he gripped the arms of his chair.The man had always had a soft spot for mothers -- something about his own upbringing he rarely discussed.But seeing Mazida’s pain seemed to be cutting him deeper than expected.

“They kept me in that room for what felt like days,” she continued.“Different men would come in.They would hurt me when I refused to comply with their demands.They wanted information about Zara, about my life here.They…” She closed her eyes briefly.“They tried to break me.”

I felt a familiar darkness rising within me, the kind that had gotten me my road name.The name I’d earned for the cold, calculating rage that took over when someone hurt those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Her brother and his men had seen her as weak, as nothing more than property to be controlled.They’d made a fatal error.They hadn’t realized she’d had people who would come for her.Of course, Mazida herself hadn’t known it.

“Even though you saved me, brought me home, my brother… Balal is still out there.He will not stop.He told me… he told me he wants Zara too.Says she belongs in Tel Aviv, living under proper supervision.That he will not allow his niece to marry an American like her mother did.”Her voice hardened.“I will die before I let him near my daughter.”

I glanced around the room, reading the faces of my brothers.There was no question about what would happen next.This was exactly the kind of situation that bound us together -- protecting our own from outside threats.

“My brother… he has powerful friends.In Israel and here.”

I watched as Gator’s eyes narrowed, his gaze never leaving Mazida’s face.He seemed to be studying every mark, every flinch, cataloging the damage done to her.I wondered if perhaps he’d finally found a woman who would hold his attention.Of course, that didn’t mean Mazida would be interested.

“I should not have come here,” Mazida said suddenly, misreading our silence.“I do not want to bring trouble to your door.”

“We understand,” I said firmly.The words fell from my lips without thought, driven by the memories of my mother’s suffering.

I felt a familiar weight settle in my chest -- not just anger or the desire for vengeance, but something deeper.In that moment of heavy silence, I made a silent vow.Balal Quadir would never touch Mazida again.Not while I still drew breath.Some men deserved to die, and from the sound of it, Balal had earned his death many times over.

I stood up before I’d even realized I was moving, my chair scraping harshly against the wooden floor.“I will protect you both.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with promise and the weight of my own history.They all focused on me, but I kept my gaze fixed on Mazida, her face a mirror of my mother’s from decades past.

Mazida looked up at me, surprise flickering across her bruised features.She hadn’t expected such immediate resolve, such certainty.But she didn’t know what I knew -- that the ghosts of our pasts have a way of returning, demanding justice.

“Azrael’s right,” Charming said.“This isn’t up for debate.You already know he and your daughter are together.Which makes you his mother-in-law, or close enough.Your problems are our problems.”

Around the room, heads nodded in agreement.Ripper knocked back the rest of his whiskey, setting the glass down with purpose.Magnus leaned forward, his usual relaxed posture replaced by something more predatory.But it was Gator’s reaction that caught my attention.Yeah, that fucker was already invested in Mazida.I only hoped he knew what the hell he was doing.

“My brother has resources,” Mazida said softly.“He has connections with a powerful crime family in Tel Aviv.I don’t want to put you in danger.”

I remained standing, feeling the familiar cold focus settle over me.“With all due respect, ma’am, we have our own connections.”

A subtle change rippled through the room -- shoulders straightened, jaws tightened.This was what we lived for.Not just the brotherhood or the freedom of the road, but these moments when we could use our strength to shield those who needed it.

“Tell us about your brother,” Charming prompted.“Everything you know about his operations, his people, how he thinks.”

“I can tell you what I know from before and what I observed while I was with him recently… before he gave me to another organization as part of a deal.”

As Mazida began speaking again, filling in details about Balal’s criminal connections and methods, my mind drifted.I wondered what she thought about me and Zara being together.I wasn’t the type of man most mothers wanted their daughters to date, much less live with.

“He will send more men,” Mazida was saying, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her hijab.“He told me he would never stop looking, that I would always belong to him.But I belong to no one.Not anymore.”

“Damn straight,” Gator murmured, speaking for the first time since Mazida had begun her story.There was admiration in his tone.Recognition of her strength.

Charming leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.“We need to decide how to handle this.Defensive is good, but it won’t solve the problem.”

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