Secretly Married to my Professor

04| When Zahrah Meet Benjamin

Zahrah's POV

Step right, step left, jab.

Again.

Step right, step left, jab.

The mantra repeats in my head as I thrust my small hand forward to make contact with the heavy bag, hardly getting it to sway. I repeat the move over and over, mentally talking myself through it.

A vision of Uncle Hussein flashes through my mind, and my punches become more forceful. The large punching bag pushes further back as a result of my hit. My punches are always better when I think of the person who ruined my life, and that was him — he destroyed our family, and if I ever see him again, I'm going to kill him.

"Your elbow isn't in the right angle. If you keep throwing hooks like that, you're going to end up injured." I let my hands fall to my sides as I turn around to find the smart ass who was brave enough to talk to the hijabi in a boxing gym.

There stood a man. He's tall, around six feet, I'm guessing, with chestnut-colored curls pointing in multiple directions. Through his white tank top, I can see faint outlines of various tattoos, and the muscles he attains are apparent. I tried to lower my gaze, but instead, I look up to his eyes; I see emerald green ones staring vividly back at me, his pink lips curled up in a confident smirk.

"Can I help you ?" My eyebrow raises, and I cross my arms over my chest, watching as his eyes travel down my body.

He left without answering, so I returned to the punching bag since I only had till eight am before Fahad picks me up.

Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I freeze almost instantly at the contact. Seconds later, I am in action, falling back on all of the techniques I remember from the self-defense classes my Baba taught me when I was thirteen. In a moment, I had him on his stomach, one of his arms gripped in hers, pressed firmly to his back, as I dig a knee into his spine before I meet his face and punch it with all the force I have.

I was breathing heavily, involuntarily flashing back to twelve years ago. It all started with a defenseless eleven-year-old girl, with a creep hands on me as I was beaten senselessly. 

I snap out of it a moment later, recognizing who I was on top of as people in the gym start staring at me. I quickly and gently roll off of him and stand.

Some coach moves past me and says, "I don't know why they still let these people train for ISIS here," before he helps the man I had beaten up. 

I kept quiet; I didn't know what is happening to me. First, I beat Emilia, and now this guy, there is something wrong with me, and I couldn't blame this guy for throwing a comment like that since I deserve it.

"Sorry," I mumble sincerely as I discreetly wipe a hand across my cheeks, trying to be rid of the evidence left behind by her tears. "I'm sorry," I repeat, a little louder, as I catch the guy hiding a wince as he lightly stretches out his shoulder, and some people hurry to bring an ice-pack for his now swollen black eye.

"Dammit, Blue," he says quietly, "you hit hard." He said with a small smile forming on his face.

Had I hit him too hard in the head? 

Has he started hallucinations? 

Or is this guy just on drugs?

"What did you say ?" The curly chestnut-colored hair guy addressed the guy who told me I belong to ISIS as I watched the big man, and he seemed to want to kill that drugged dude.

"Stop it, man, leave the White Trash alone," I said.

"What did you say ?" The big guy says, mimicking The curly chestnut-colored hair guy.

"What you heard ?" I replied, not giving the time of day to that dude, but then suddenly, he wanted to throw a punch at me but was stopped by the drugged dude.

"You don't hit women," The curly chestnut-colored hair guy said, stopping the man from punching me.

"I can handle defending myself; I don't need your help," I said, owning up to the word I said as some people in the gym left while the others moved away from us as the coaches tried to talk to the big guy before a big fight happen.

"Well, Blue, I don't think you can?" The curly chestnut-colored hair guy said as he was trying to wrestle with the guy; I could see his tense jaw from the side, his hands forming into tight fists beside him. His nostrils flare as the big hit first, but he missed.

The curly chestnut-colored hair guy looked at me with a smirk forming on his stupid face, but before long, he was on the floor being punched by the massively muscular man as the coaches try to move him away. 

I try to get the big guy away from him, but I was held back from my shirt by someone; I spin to look who it was, and there was Fahad.

"I leave you for one hour, and you are picking a fight with men triple your size," Fahad said as he holds my arm and moves me away from the scene.

The coaches manage to move the big guy and throw him out of the gym. The curly chestnut-colored hair guy's face was full of bruises but not as bad as the big guy. He smiles once again as he sits, and the coaches are around him, making sure he was okay as they bring a bottle of water toward him. Fahad just kept complaining as I brought my gym bag and moved away from the scene, " Ya Allah have mercy on my soul, what did I do to deserve this sister." 

"Ohh, shut up, Darth Vader," I said before looking one last time toward the Drugged guy with bruises filling his symmetrical face as his once green eyes are turning into black. 

Author Note

Asalam Alaikum everyone, Please do comment and let me know what you think of this chapter? Don't forget to share and vote :)

Until next time, Jazakallah a million!