Protecting Zarifah - Debra Parmley Read online

  Protecting Zarifah (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)

  Debra Parmley

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2019 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Special Forces: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!

  If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.

  I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!

  READ ON!

  Xoxo

  Susan Stoker

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  About the Author

  Also by Debra Parmley

  More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books

  Books by Susan Stoker

  Acknowledgments

  I never dreamed when I first started a chapter of Shimmy Mob in Memphis, Tennessee in 2011 that I would one day be writing about the first Shimmy Mob. What is shown in this book is just a small fraction of what I experienced when setting up our first event. To tell it all would be a whole book itself. 2011 was a year of floods and tornadoes in Memphis. We had a site lined up. They backed out. I struggled to find another site. We ended up dancing downtown on the trolley line, with the help of Dawn Vincent of center city commission. Thirty-five dancers signed up to dance, to help our local shelter and the women and children who need it. Forever these dance sisters will hold a special place in my heart. They understood sisterhood, and knew how to look beyond their own navels, to the world beyond, seeing that we are all united. We all begin there, with a navel, connected to our mothers. I cannot list every dancer here or the many dancers who came after. Those who are reading this know who they are and they know that they have my love. I must thank my 2011 assistants, Brenda Canady and Cymbeline Rois, for being constant and true and to Jasmine our choreographer. Yes, we danced in between tornados and still managed to raise money for the shelter, without news coverage or any recognition. Tornados are a bigger draw. But we know what we did and how amazing it was. Memphis was recognized by Shimmy Mob as honored city that year. I am more proud of these dance sisters than I can ever say.

  None of his would have happened without the vision of Francesca Sabeya Anastasi, who has my thanks and infinite love and gratitude. You are an earth angel, too good for this world, and you do so much good here.

  Thank you to every dancer who has ever danced for and every person who has ever donated to Shimmy Mob. This work saves lives. You are an earth angel too.

  This book could not have been written without the help of my husband, Michael Parmley, who also saw me through the first Shimmy Mob and every one thereafter. Cook, encourager, photographer, videographer, and now beta reader, editor, plot advisor, and likely I have left something out. Patron of the arts for many years. I love you.

  So many have helped me learn how to write fight scenes and gun scenes over the years. For this book, I must thank the US Navy SEALS the best resource ever for writing a Navy SEAL hero.

  Thank you to all my belly dance instructors through the years: Zeina, Samra, Julia, Juli Downum, Liz, Elizabeth Strong, Asha Devi, Ariella, Rachel Brice, Jillina, Amani Jabril, Madrina, Jasmine, Valentina and Isidora Bushkovski.

  Thank you to my best friend author Susan Boles for help with the blurb and for support throughout the years.

  Thank you to Sheri L. McGathy for my wonderful cover and to cover model and actor John Antorino for appearing on this stunning cover and supporting and promoting this book.

  Thank you to Susan Stoker for allowing me to write in your world and to Amy Hrutkay for all you do to help us and for your love and support.

  Thank you to my family and friends who support me throughout this career with your love, support and encouragement. Especially to my sister Kimberly Lear, my first reader from long ago, now my wonderful PA.

  My love and thanks to all my readers, my beta readers and my reviewers for reading, reviewing and telling others about my books. We are a symbiotic circle and I love you all.

  Dedication

  to

  Francesca Sabeya Anastasi

  for

  Your vision, your bravery, your strength, and your example for women all over the world and for the great work you have done with Shimmy Mob

  Author’s note

  It has been my absolute joy and honor to be a part of Shimmy Mob since it’s beginning in 2011. I would like to thank every single person who has contributed in any way.

  Especially I must thank “Sabeya” aka Francesca Sabeya Anastasi for her vision, her guidance and support and her hard work to make this world a safer place for victims worldwide.

  Infinite love and gratitude. – Debra Parmley, founder Shimmy Mob Memphis

  And now a note from Shimmy Mob:

  “Since 2011, we’ve been supporting shelters for victims of abuse worldwide through fundraising and an annual belly dance flash mob.

  Shimmy Mobs ultimate goal is to raise awareness in order to prevent all types of abuse before they happen. Awareness is key.” – Shimmy Mob

  Visit www.shimmymob.com to find out how you can help.

  To my readers:

  I hope you will enjoy this story, while learning more about Shimmy Mob and the work we do, as well as a glimpse into the life of a belly dancer. It has been both a joy and a struggle to write this story, as I feel for my heroines as much as I do for every day heroines walking this planet. Please know as you read this book that I love you.

  If you are in an unsafe situation, please access the website where you can find resources and people to help you. May you be safe and find the love that is just waiting for you.

  It is my prayer that one-day domestic violence will be eradicated on this earth, and that every victim will move from surviving to thriving.

  I love you all.

  About the book

  Navy SEAL Antonius (Tony) “Cutter” Cuttino is an Italian American male who has a thing for dancers. He loves their grace and athleticism. He’s been dating strippers, but his grandmother keeps asking when he will marry and give her grandbabies. When he attends a belly dance show and sees Zarifah he is smitten.

  “Zarifah” is an American belly dancer, w
ho as child gymnast Edith Smith, was training for the Olympics, before her coaches dashed water on her dream. Her dance style is a unique blend of graceful dance and athleticism. Moments after her fiancé puts an engagement ring on her finger, he changes, demanding she stop dancing in public. She breaks the engagement, but he refuses to accept the ring or the breakup. When he hits her, the police arrest him. She never wants to see him again.

  She signs up for the first Shimmy Mob event, a belly dance event held on international belly dance day all around the world, which raises awareness and money for local domestic abuse shelters. Like many women, she never thought she would be a victim of domestic violence. Now she wants to help other women and she takes part, with her troupe, in the Shimmy Mob event.

  Cutter and Zarifah start dating. She might be the woman of his dreams, the one he will take home to meet his grandmother.

  Her ex fiancé decides if he cannot have her, no one will. The troupe has just finished their Shimmy Mob performance when the live shooter fires. He has no idea a Navy SEAL is there to protect Zarifa.

  Chapter 1

  March 2011

  Local belly dancer “Zarifah” entered the dance studio late. She’d missed troupe rehearsal and was supposed to stay afterward to practice her veil solo where she could use the two walls of mirrors and the large space. Her apartment was much too small to spin around in with a veil, without knocking things over, and she couldn’t do that any more. Not with the porcelain figurines Hassan had given her decorating the rooms.

  The beautiful gifts were too expensive and treasured by her to risk them, so she no longer danced in her apartment, even without a veil. She missed dancing there.

  Amina, the studio owner and troupe director, saw her coming through the door and said, “I wondered where you were,” then she took a few steps toward her, a frown coming over her face as she took a closer look and saw the bruises covering the left side of Zarifah’s face. “Honey, what happened to you? Are you all right?”

  “He came back. Last night.” She spoke quiet, though there was no one else in the studio to hear her. It was still hard, sharing what had happened, even with one of her closest friends.

  “Oh no. Honey, who did that to you?” Their eyes met and then Amina’s eyes widened, as she realized who had done it. “Hassan.”

  “Yes. Luckily, my neighbor, Mrs. Dieter, called the police. Or I might not be here with you tonight. He was so very angry.”

  “Come in,” Amina gently touched her elbow, to guide her in, and then pulled her hand back, as if afraid she might hurt her. “Was that okay? I don’t want to touch you where it hurts.”

  “Yes. I’ll be fine. I’m just a bit beat up at the moment.” She gave a slight shrug.

  Though this was a different kind of bruising, Zarifah had been accustomed to the bruises left by gymnastics when she was young and still learning. Her sights set on the Olympics, she and her coaches had pushed her hard back then.

  Bruising happened. You got over it.

  She set her jaw, summoning that determination which she’d learned at a young age.

  Amina pulled a chair around for her. “Sit. Rest. I will make us some tea. Then I want you to tell me what happened.”

  “Okay.” Zarifah sat, but didn’t relax in the chair. She hadn’t relaxed since the night the man she had thought she loved, who she thought had loved her, had turned into a monster. She wondered if she would ever relax again.

  Amina loved tea and any excuse to make it. Tonight was no exception. “Chamomile this evening, I think. It’s a soothing tea. Sound good?”

  Zarifah nodded and then watched her friend as she readied the small, portable tea maker, pouring water into it before starting the water to boil. Once the tea was ready, Amina would want her to tell everything that had happened with Hassan.

  Hopefully the bruises will be gone before our next performance. If not, I’ll have to bow out. Hassam will get his wish, if I am not dancing. I don’t want anyone taking photos or video of me looking like this.

  She had to tell Amina about this and she also needed to tell her that Hassan was dangerous, in case he ever showed up near any of the other dancers.

  They were used to him and wouldn’t see him as dangerous, so everyone needed to be told. It wouldn’t be right to keep it private and them in the dark.

  Security at the venues in their dance schedule wouldn’t have seen him before. She’d run through the list of places in her head, on the drive over, to remember if he’d ever come to watch her dance at any of them. He hadn’t.

  She wished she hadn’t burned all her pictures of him last night and blocked him on social media, when she’d been too upset to think she might need one photo of him. She’d been thinking she never wanted to see his face again.

  They would have to find a picture of him somewhere, somehow. To give to security.

  Maybe Amina would help.

  It was important that all their dance sisters be safe.

  Navy SEAL Antonius (Tony) “Cutter” Cuttino slid his six-foot frame behind the wheel of his red Corvette. Starting it up and then shifting gears, he pulled the car out of the garage and down the driveway before backing into the street. He was running late for the bachelor party at the Sweet Kitty Kat Club and didn’t want to miss the main event.

  His SEAL buddy Reed Tindal “Railroad” aka “RT” was marrying Christie Anderson. A live shooting event had thrown them together at a movie theater and it hadn’t been long afterward that they had both realized they were meant to be together. Even so, they’d been together for two years before RT had said he was ready to set the date.

  Being on the SEAL teams meant you could be called away on short notice, for a good long time, and called away often. That made it hard on girlfriends, fiancés and wives. RT had been determined to go for a long engagement instead of rushing into things, so that Christie could be sure she could like with that lifestyle. Fortunately for them both, she was sure.

  Cutter agreed with RT. Marriage was supposed to be til death do you part, so the longer you took to make that formal agreement, in front of God and everybody, the better you could be sure you were marrying the right woman and not making a mistake.

  Christie was a good woman though, and RT had made a wise choice in her. She was a real cutie with her retro pinup outfits and good girl next-door good looks. The wedding was planned with a 1950’s theme, the men in Navy dress uniforms and the women in little vintage dresses like Marilyn Monroe would have worn. The kind that showed off their all curves. Cutter was all for that look and looking forward to all the eye candy at the wedding.

  He couldn’t have been happier for the couple. RT was happier than Cutter had ever seen him and Cutter could envision the two of them as a happily married gray haired couple in their twilight years together. He wanted that too, when he grew old.

  But that was far into the future. He was living in the now, the today. Because that was all anyone ever really had.

  Tonight Cutter was running late to RT’s bachelor party, but with any luck, the dancer wouldn’t have started yet. He enjoyed watching dancers, with their long legs that could wrap around a man, and their toned bodies, which moved in ways that made him think of moving with them in a more intimate way across the sheets.

  Dancers were hot. This party at the strip club should be good.

  He sped up, his mind on long legged females stripping.

  While he was glad for RT, and their other buddy, SEAL Tanner “Diesel” Taylor who had a wife and two kids now, he was not ready to find his own wife and settle down. He was too busy having fun in between deployments. Dating strippers was part of that fun.

  The next morning Tony’s cell phone rang, vibration mode making it dance on the nightstand.

  He reached for the phone. His eighty-year-old grandmother was calling, so he answered. “Good morning, grandma,” he said as he glanced at the stripper sleeping next to him in his bed.

  “So Tony, when are you going to come home and see your grandmam
ma?” his grandmother asked.

  “Who’s on the phone, baby?” Tawny asked. She ran her hand up his thigh. “Come here.”

  His grandmother kept on as if she hadn’t heard the woman. “Nicki has three babies already and you never even married.”

  He turned away from Tawny, stood up and walked away, holding up a finger to her to wait. “Yes, Grandma, I know. Nicki has a new baby every year. I’m happy for her. She deserves the best.”

  Nicki was a neighborhood girl he’d dated in high school.

  Tawny got out of bed, and started pulling her clothes on. He watched her naked body as she covered it with clothes, while he listened to his grandma.

  Tawny had a great body. Long, sexy legs. She had also gotten drunk last night after they got to his place and had been wild, as strippers often were. One thing he liked about them.

  He rolled his left shoulder feeling the scratches she’d made across his back. Those long silver painted fingernails of hers were killer. He’d made her scream a few times. Noisy sex that could wake the neighbors.

  He walked into the other room to be further away from her, as he talked to his grandmother, so he could pay better attention to his grandmother as she continued to talk.