Truth or Consequences

by Sharon C. Cooper

  “Nah, I’m good. I just need to talk to your hus— I mean Wiz for a minute.”

  Wiz and Olivia had married straight out of high school, but when Wiz became a SEAL, she divorced him. She couldn’t handle the middle of the night calls telling him that his team was going wheels up. Worse than that, she didn’t like not knowing where he was going or when he’d return. Despite their divorce, they had remained close, and since Wiz had retired from the Navy, even closer. Malik wasn’t sure why they were waiting to officially reunite. Seeing them together made it clear they were both still very much in love with each other.

  “Come on back,” Wiz said. “We can talk in the office.”

  Malik followed Wiz into the room he called an office, but it looked more like a military command center. The huge space had tons of computer equipment and a large monitor mounted on the wall. As a private investigator, Wiz now did contract work for the government and occasionally took on assignments that were more personal.

  “What happened to you Friday night? You were supposed to stop by and pick up this file before I left for the airport.”

  “I stopped by the hospital to see Natasha.”

  Wiz turned from his computer screen, his lips easing into a grin. “Whaaat? You quit trippin’ and finally went to see her, huh?”

  Malik sat in the chair across from him. “Yeah, and it’s a good thing I did.” He told Wiz about finding her in the hallway and getting her home that evening.

  “Damn, I would have loved to see the look on your face when she told you to get out.” He laughed, amused and unmoved by Malik’s glare.

  “Laugh all you want. I talked to her a few minutes ago and she agreed to have dinner with me tomorrow evening.” Considering how she’d dismissed him the other night, he was a little surprised she agreed.

  “All right, dog.” They bumped fists across the desk. “Sounds like there might be hope for you yet. So what made you suddenly stop by the hospital? Surely it wasn’t something I said,” he joked.

  “Actually, I received some interesting … no, make that disturbing news after you left my office Friday.” Malik rubbed his eyes, still a bit tired from working the whole weekend. “Rosalyn, the lady that stopped by my office right before you left, was the sister of Susan Lee, a woman I dated off and on.”

  “And?”

  “And Susan is dead.” Malik stood and walked to one of the windows in the room. He didn’t have any emotional ties to Susan, but he was still in shock and sorry to hear about what happened. “Supposedly she died during child birth a few months back. Rosalyn found out that though her sister died, the baby lived,” he said over his shoulder. “She was able to get a death certificate for her sister, but there’s no birth or death certificate for the baby.”

  Wiz typed something on his keyboard. “So why’d she come to you? Doesn’t she know you provide personal security, not missing person’s services?”

  Malik turned from the window. “She thinks the baby is … was mine.”

  Wiz stopped typing and lifted an eyebrow. “Say what?”

  “You heard me. She thinks I’m the father. She found one of her sister’s journals and one of the entries claimed that I was the father of her unborn child.”

  Wiz sat back in his seat and let his hands fall into his lap. “Well I’ll be damned. All of your hopping from one bed to another has finally caught up with you.”

  Malik shook his head. “No. No way I have a kid out there. I have always wrapped it up. No exceptions. I don’t care what her journal said, that kid is not mine.”

  Wiz shook his head. “So what do you need me for?”

  “I want you to find the kid.”

  “Okay, let me get this straight. You don’t believe you’re the father, but yet you want me to find him or her.”

  Malik sat back down. “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  “Because there’s a chance the kid is yours.”

  “No! Man, quit sayin’ that. I’m telling you that I’m not the father! Susan was cool and all, but I’m a hundred percent sure I wasn’t the only man she was with. We were both out to have a good time.”

  “There is a chance, Tree.” It had been a long time since anyone called him that. During their SEAL days, they all had nicknames. Quinn was Ghost, and because Malik had often been compared to being as big and solid as an oak tree, they called him Tree.

  Malik refused to believe that he had fathered a child. He’d been too careful. Plenty of women had tried to trap him, wanting him to use condoms they provided, telling him that they were late and could be pregnant. He’d heard it all and made extra sure there were no slip ups.

  “I want you to look into this because Rosalyn thinks there might have been foul play involved in her sister’s death. As for the kid, I want him or her found in order to prove the kid is not mine.”

  Wiz threw up his hands. “All right, fine. I’ll look into it. Did this Rosalyn lady happen to show you the journal?”

  “No. I told her I’d be in touch. I want us to go over to Susan’s place and look through everything.”

  “Yeah, there might be more journals. If she wrote about you, she probably wrote about other men.” Wiz twirled a pen between his fingers. “Why does the sister think there was foul play?”

  Malik shrugged. “Something about them not contacting next of kin, which would’ve been her and she claims Susan was perfectly healthy. She says she has access to her medical records and there’s nothing that can explain why her sister suddenly died.”

  “Okay, well I’m going to need to ask Rosalyn a few questions. Did she happen to mention the name of her sister’s doctor?”

  Malik pulled a small slip of paper from his pocket and glanced at it. “Yeah, his name is … Robert Halsey.”

  Chapter Five

  Once the server took their food order, Natasha glanced around the Italian restaurant. The smell of garlic, basil, and fresh bread made her mouth water. She hadn’t been there before, but loved the atmosphere of the quaint eatery. The gold and taupe mural of Italy spread across the walls, accented with black and gold wall sconces, and dim lighting gave the room a romantic feel.

  Natasha returned her attention to the handsome man sitting in front of her. Being there with him seemed so surreal. The night they shared, the memories of their lovemaking, all of it came rushing back to her the moment she found him standing on her doorstep. Prior to the day he had shown up at the hospital, she had no idea if she would ever see him again. They made no promises to each other during their time in L.A. At least she hadn’t made any promises, but he had. He promised to be only a phone call away if ever she needed him. Based on her erotic dream the other night, she definitely needed him.

  “How long has this restaurant been here?” Natasha asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Malik looked around before returning his dark intense eyes to her, “but I’ve known about it for years. It’s one of my favorite restaurants to get authentic Italian cuisine.” “I love Italian food. Actually, I love food period.” They both laughed and Natasha liked the way his face lit up whenever he smiled. “That’s why I decided to join a gym. My poor diet is starting to catch up with me.”

  His gaze swept over her seductively and it took everything she had not to squirm in her seat. She couldn’t remember the last time she was on the receiving end of a man’s unabashed appraisal, but she kind of liked it.

  “Well, it appears that it caught up with you in all of the right places.” Malik brought his glass of beer up to his tempting lips, a small smile playing near the corners of his mouth. “Does that mean that you’re no longer going to put in long hours? I remember you telling me that you often work as many as sixteen hours a day.”

  Natasha nodded, toying with the diamond hanging around her neck. In all actuality, working crazy long hours wasn’t something to brag about. Sure, she got a lot done and prided herself on staying on top of her work, but she had no social life.

  “You have a g
ood memory. I probably average more like twelve to fourteen hour days, but that’s still too much. It’s not healthy.” She sipped her white wine.

  “I’m glad you realize that. Seeing you in the condition I found you the other night had me concerned.”

  “Me too. It was a definite sign for me to slow down and start taking better care of myself.” Considering she had left work earlier than usual and was having dinner with an intriguing man, most would say that she was off to a good start.

  “Okay, we have the Tortelloni ai funghi porcini, Tortelloni with porcini mushrooms for you.” The server placed a huge oval plate of piping hot food in front of Natasha. “And for you,” she said to Malik, “we have the Stinco di agnello con patate arrosto ed aparagi, the lamb shank with roasted potatoes and sautéed asparagus.”

  Natasha studied both plates. She was used to large portion sizes whenever she visited an Italian restaurant, but this place had taken it to a different level. Her mouth watered, eager to take her first bite.

  “Is there anything else I can get for either of you?” The server glanced at Natasha and then at Malik, her gaze staying on him a little longer than Natasha thought necessary. She couldn’t blame the woman, though. Everything about Malik warranted a second glance, from his size to those amazing eyes that didn’t seem to miss anything. If you added his great sense of humor and sexy smile, you had a man any woman would love to get to know better.

  “Tasha,” Malik prompted, “is everything to your liking?”

  “Uh, yeah. This looks amazing.”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear that.” The server nodded her head, sending her long, reddish curls bobbing up and down. She turned back to Malik. “And you, is there anything else I can get you?”

  Malik looked over his plate and shook his head, oblivious to the server’s rapt attention. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” He gave her a quick glance before diving into his food.

  “So tell me more about your company. How did you get started in the bodyguard business?” Natasha asked, cutting into the bread and then dipping it into the small plate of olive oil in the center of the table. She loved Italian food, but bread was definitely her weakness.

  “Well, actually Supreme Security is a personal security company. We offer more than just bodyguard service.” He winked. Natasha had no doubt that the enticing smile gracing his full lips probably made him very popular with the women. The man was just too damn sexy.

  “I guess I don’t really have to ask how or why you got into the business.” She imagined most retired military would do something along the same line or become a cop. “What type of services do you provide?”

  Malik’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “For you? Anything you want, baby.”

  Natasha choked on her pasta when she realized how her words must’ve sounded. Having a hard time catching her breath, she patted her chest and scooted her chair back.

  Malik’s mischievous grin slid from his lips. “You okay?” He rose from his seat.

  She waved him off, tears filling her eyes. “I’m fine,” she croaked, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with the edge of her napkin. “My food just went down wrong.”

  He didn’t look too convinced, but reclaimed his seat.

  “What I meant was, what else do you and your team do besides provide personal security for people.”

  “That’s a big bulk of what we do.” He continued staring at her warily while she settled back down, totally embarrassed. “We also have a division that installs and monitors state-of-the-art home alarm systems. But for the most part, we provide personal security to individuals and organizations.”

  “I guess that means you probably get to meet some pretty famous people.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, a few.”

  She knew he was being modest. Alandra had told her some of his clients included well-known singers, talk show hosts, and professional sports figures.

  “So when you take women out, do they know that you once worked in Special Forces?”

  “No, most don’t.” He cut a slice of bread and dipped it in the small dish of olive oil. “It’s not something I advertise. People have different reactions.” He wiped his mouth, leaned forward, and lowered his voice. “Take you for instance. When we first met, Quinn, Wiz and I were in the middle of trying to find out who was threatening your sister. I remember the suspicion in your eyes when you found out we were taking her to D.C. to track down the person responsible for trying to kill her.”

  Natasha laid her fork down and hunched forward. She remembered being scared to death for Alandra. Even understanding that the three SEALs in her sister’s life were going to keep her safe didn’t help the despair that had invaded her body knowing that things could go terribly wrong.

  “Who wouldn’t be worried? First of all, the thought of knowing someone is trying to kill your sister, after failing once, would freak out anyone. You guys talked as if it were normal to hunt someone down and make them … disappear.” She looked around, hoping that no one overheard them.

  When Alandra was being hunted by members of Los Hermanos drug cartel, it was like a scene out of a horror movie for Natasha. Someone had already put a bullet in Alandra’s chest. When word got out that Alandra had survived, the cartel hunted her with a vengeance.

  “Hey,” Malik grabbed hold of Natasha’s hand and squeezed, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I only wanted to show you that most people don’t see us as everyday guys who breathe the same way they do; who feel pain the way they feel pain, and who put their pants on one leg at a time, just like they do.”

  Natasha sighed and focused on calming her rapid heartbeat. He was right. At the end of the day, he and his friends were just men … men who happened to be trained killers.

  “Okay, enough about me.” Malik sat back in his seat. “Let’s talk about you. I’m a little surprised you agreed to come out with me.”

  Natasha crinkled her eyebrows. “You are? Why?”

  “I figured that ex-husband of yours wouldn’t let you.”

  “Martin doesn’t dictate who I go out with.”

  “No?” Malik cocked his head. “I find that hard to believe, especially considering how possessive he was when I dropped you off the other night.”

  “Possessive?” She narrowed her eyes. “What about when you stopped by the hospital and Ray was there helping me. You practically bit the poor guy’s head off.”

  Some men would say they were sorry or at least show some remorse, but not Malik. If anything, his gaze grew harder and the tightness in his strong jaw made him look even more dangerous.

  “So who is that guy to you?”

  Natasha shrugged. “Just someone who works at the hospital. Someone who was only trying to help.”

  “It looked to me that he had other interests than just trying to help. There was something about him that didn’t sit right with me, and it wasn’t because he had his hands all over you,” Malik said, his voice dropping an octave.

  Someone is jealous. Natasha held back a smile. “Before that night, I had never even seen Ray before,” she stated. “He’s only been with the hospital for a month or two. And I’m sure his intentions were pure.”

  “Yeah, if you say so,” Malik said, sounding unconvinced.

  They talked throughout their meal, discussing everything from favorite foods to world news. Their vast range of conversation surprised Natasha. She thought that with their different backgrounds, they wouldn’t have much to talk about. Instead, the connection she felt months ago was just as strong.

  “I have a question for you.” Malik pushed his empty plate to the side and folded his large forearms on top of the table. “What happens to orphaned babies at your hospital?”

  Natasha lifted her wine glass to her lips. “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe nothing,” Malik said, pushing back from the table. “I recently found out a friend of mine died a few months ago, after giving birth. Her sister has been in touch with people at your hospital. Supposedly, the baby was taken
into the state’s custody. The thing is, when my friend’s sister contacted them, they had no record of the child. Do you …”

  Unease crawled up Natasha’s spine. She could see Malik’s mouth moving, but didn’t hear anything else after he said the state has no records of the child. Panic like she’d never known before welled in her throat and an icy fear wrapped around her heart.

  Oh my God, Layla might be right. Something is going on.

  “Tasha? Tasha?”

  Natasha finally glanced up to see Malik standing near her. He held one of her hands, and his other one rested on her back. The server was cleaning up broken glass from the once white tablecloth. Natasha didn’t know what scared her the most, Malik’s questions, or the fact that she didn’t remember dropping her wine glass.

  “I would ask if you’re okay, but apparently you’re not.” Malik removed the napkin from her lap, which held slivers of glass. After helping her to her feet, he turned to the server. “Can you bring the check?”

  Malik kept part of his attention on Natasha while he paid for their meal. Sitting near the entrance, where patrons waited for a table, she toyed with the diamond pendant around her neck. Malik hadn’t missed the shock on her face when he mentioned talking to Rosalyn, and when he asked Natasha about orphaned babies. He couldn’t figure out if she knew and was just holding back, or if she was shocked that there might be something terribly wrong going on at her hospital.

  “Come on, baby, let’s head out.” With his hand gently on her elbow, he walked with her out of the restaurant.

  “Malik, I … I’m not sure what happened.” She looked up at him with her gorgeous brown eyes. He’d been in a constant state of arousal from the moment he picked her up from home. Wearing a fitted, fuchsia wrapped blouse and a straight black skirt that stopped above her knees showing off amazing legs, she was easily the sexiest woman he’d ever taken out.