Truth or Consequences
By: Sharon C. Cooper
Copyright © 2014 by Sharon C. Cooper all rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For permission, contact the author at www.sharoncooper.net
ISBN: 978-0-9903505-0-7
Book Cover: Selestiele Designs
Published by: Amaris Publishing LLC in the United States
Smashwords Edition
Disclaimers
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Please be advised that this story has adult and sensitive content not recommended for those under the age of 18.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to one of my dearest friends and writing bud, Claire Fadden.
Claire, you ROCK!
Victoria, congrats again on winning the contest! I hope you enjoy the story!
Nasi, what can I say but, girrrl you’re something else! Thank you for everything. You’re truly a godsend!
Bestselling author Sharon C. Cooper brings you another
exciting romantic suspense…
TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES
Hospital Chief of Staff Natasha Lockham’s life has been all about work and no play. That is until a one-night stand with a man who lives his life on the edge, turns her sexual fantasies into reality. She never expects to see him again, but their paths cross when Natasha suspects an esteemed doctor of committing an unspeakable crime against his patients and danger lands at her doorstep. The closer she gets to the truth, the more she realizes she’s not prepared for the truth – or the consequences.
Former Navy SEAL, Malik Lewis, will always remember the night he spent with Natasha. It was the single most amazing night of his life. So when Natasha narrowly escapes a brutal attempt on her life, Malik stops at nothing to protect her, including hunting a man whose skills match his. Can Malik and Natasha outsmart a vicious assassin who has nothing to lose? And will they ever get to explore the sizzling passion between them that neither can deny?
Chapter One
Malik Lewis ambled through the halls of Supreme Security Agency, his Stacey Adams clicking rhythmically against the marble floor. He spoke and nodded as his employees hustled through the hallways, greeting him while they hurried off to their designated areas. Sometimes he found it hard to believe how much the agency had grown over the years. With a staff of seventy-five—which included security experts, IT specialists, and a host of support staff—his organization was one of the largest private security agencies in Illinois.
“Good afternoon, Malik.”
“Hey Malik. We missed you at the meeting this morning.”
“What’s up, boss?” Stan, one his most reliable armed security supervisors, greeted and fell in step alongside him. “I heard a vicious rumor that you might be facilitating the morning huddles for the next four weeks.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me.” They turned down the hallway that led to Malik’s office. “I didn’t know Ted was going to be out of the office that long.” As owner and CEO of the agency, Malik wore many hats, even if it meant facilitating meetings, which he hated. Normally Ted, the Executive Protection Director, would oversee morning huddle, but not for the next few weeks. Ted was home with his wife, busy playing new daddy to one of the cutest baby girls Malik had ever seen … it even had him thinking about having a kid or two one day.
Pushing open the double glass doors, the men walked into the large suite that opened into a receptionist area and two offices, one being Malik’s.
“Hey, no Vicky today?” Stan asked, referring to Malik’s executive assistant.
Malik glanced at his watch, surprised it was already four-thirty in the afternoon. “She should be back shortly. She’s making a couple of runs for me.”
“All right, I’ll catch her later.” Stan followed Malik into his office, but stayed near the door. “I’m going to have your mini-me on the Fontaine assignment for the rest of the week.”
Malik set his briefcase down and regarded Stan with a smirk. “A regular comedian, huh? Mini-me?” Stan had been giving him the business about Travis Kincaid, the kid Malik had hired a few weeks earlier.
“Hey, what can I say? Besides being a little rough around the edges, he reminds me of you, just younger.”
Seeing potential in him, Malik had personally hired Travis. The young man started with the Chicago police academy, but thanks to his temper, got himself kicked out before graduating. CPD didn’t care that his skills were like those of a master shooter. He had excelled at the physical agility tests, and had great detecting instincts. They wanted someone with Travis’s leadership ability, but it was equally important that he could follow instructions without coming across as a know-it-all. Malik had to admit that he’d hired the kid because he reminded Malik a little of himself. A smartass, fearless, and intimidating force with quick thinking ability as well as physical prowess. With a little guidance, those qualities could definitely come in handy.
“So are you okay with him being on the Fontaine assignment?” Stan asked, cutting into Malik’s thoughts.
“Hey, if you think he’s ready, go for it. Just keep an eye on him. Dealing with his big mouth and cocky attitude might pose a challenge for you.”
Stan shrugged his linebacker-size shoulders. “Eh, I think he’ll be all right. If not, by the time I’m done training him he’ll be one of your best bodyguards.” He turned toward the door. “Catch you later.”
Like a trusted advisor, Stan was one of Malik’s most valued assets and had been with the company since the beginning. He played a part in the solid relationship the agency had with local law enforcement, as well as the state and federal government. Malik tried for years to give Stan a role worthy of his importance in the company, but being a security specialist was all he wanted to do, and he was damn good at it.
Malik released an exhausted sigh. He stood at the large window in his office behind the desk and gazed at the busy downtown traffic below. It felt good to be back at the agency. By the second meeting that morning, his patience had worn thin, his meeting tolerance depleted. It didn’t help that throughout the day his mind kept straying to thoughts of a beautiful, curvy goddess who he hadn’t seen in months. How a one-night-stand could rock his world the way she had was a mystery to him.
“For Christ sake, why don’t you just call the woman already?”
Malik turned from the window and narrowed his eyes at Wiz, who walked into his office, closing the door behind him. Known for his ability to hack into any computer system and manipulate anything remotely technological, Cameron received his nickname, Wiz, honestly. They’d first met years ago during their Navy days and went through SEAL training, serving on the same team together. Other than Quinn Hamilton, Malik’s best friend, Wiz was one of few men Malik could count on for anything.
“Call who?” Malik finally asked.
“Man, don’t play dumb with me. You know damn well who … Natasha Lockham, Alandra’s sister. That is who you’re thinking about, isn’t it?”
“Wiz, don’t start,” Malik grumbled. Not in the mood for any ribbing, he pulled out his desk chair and plopped down in it.
“What do you mean don’t start? I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who noticed how distracted you were in that meeting this morning.” Wiz sat on the edge of the oversized mahogany desk and folded his thick arms across his broad chest. “As a matter of fact, your attitude has been shitty for the past few
months and we both know why.”
Wiz knew about his one-night-stand with Quinn’s sister-in-law and took every opportunity to rag him about it. And then there was Alandra, Quinn’s wife. Malik was pretty sure that when she told him to take care of her sister, she didn’t mean for him to seduce Natasha into giving him the most amazing sex he’d ever experienced.
“I’m counting on you to look after my sister,” Alandra said just above a whisper. “Promise me.” When he didn’t respond, she moved closer. “Promise me.”
“There you go again, staring off into space. Now tell me again. Why haven’t you called Natasha?”
Malik sighed loudly and rested his head against the back of his leather chair. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead. I am not having this conversation. There was something to be said for hanging around people who knew you almost better than you knew yourself. Before retiring from the Navy, he and Wiz spent practically every day together, raiding terrorist compounds, traipsing through jungles, and bouncing from one op to another. It was almost impossible for them not to know what the other was thinking, honing in on each other’s attitudes, knowing in a heartbeat when something was off.
“I can’t call her, man.” Malik stood abruptly, sending his chair slamming into the wall. He reclaimed his spot at the window and braced his hands against the windowsill, as if staring out at nothing in particular would provide him with the answer to his problem.
“Why the hell not? I’ve never known you to shy away from any woman, especially one as hot as Natasha. Mr.-I-Can-Pull-Any-Woman-I-Want is punkin’ out,” Wiz scoffed, his patronizing tone clawed down Malik’s spine. “So what’s the problem?”
“The problem?” Malik turned and glared at his friend. “Wiz, your IQ is higher than anyone I know and you have to ask me what the problem is?” Malik’s voice boomed. “She’s a damn surgeon! No, actually, she’s the fucking Chief of Staff at one of the largest hospitals in Chicago. I can’t ask her out!”
Wiz stood a few inches shorter than Malik, but that didn’t stop him from stepping to Malik and getting in his face. “Why not?” he asked, his voice raised to match Malik’s forceful tone. “You’ve beaten some of this country’s most vicious advisories. Hell, you’ve even been shot at pointblank range and left for dead. And you expect me to believe that your punk-ass is afraid to step to a woman?” Wiz shook his head. “Unbelievable!”
Malik clenched and unclenched his fist; anger churned in his gut as he stayed rooted in place. No one pushed his buttons the way Wiz could and Wiz knew it. “Man, fuck you!” Malik spat out, unable to think of anything more brilliant to say.
He turned and paced across the lush, carpeted floor. He ran his sweaty palm over his clean-shaven head, breathing in and out slowly to get his anger under control. It wasn’t Wiz’s fault that he was letting thoughts of some woman affect his usual laid-back life. Problem was, she wasn’t just any woman. She was the only woman he had ever met who had garnered a second, third, and hundreds of thoughts thereafter. Since their passionate night in Los Angeles, Malik hadn’t been able to think of much else.
He peeked over his shoulder at his friend. Wiz’s comments wouldn’t have stung had they not been true.
“What the hell would we talk about?” Malik asked. “Sure, I can tell her anything she wants to know about taking apart and cleaning a M4 assault rifle, or show her how to use just the right amount of C4 to blow-up a small section of a building without the whole damn thing tumbling down. Heck, I can even teach her how to take out a tango target at 2000 yards, but after that,” he shrugged, “I’ve got nothing. We come from two very different worlds and have absolutely nothing in common.”
Wiz stared at him; his green eyes boring into him like a high-beam laser zoning in on its target. Malik rarely flinched, but damn if Wiz wasn’t making him squirm.
What the hell is happening to me?
Wiz threw his head back and a bark of laughter erupted, bouncing off the light blue walls and filling the large space.
“Damn! I wish Quinn could see you now,” Wiz said, still laughing when he collapsed into one of the leather chairs facing Malik’s desk. “How many times did you give us a hard time about our women? Talking about our noses being wide open and how the mighty had fallen. Now who’s whipped? Yeah, it’s probably good you’re not calling Natasha. If she messed you up with just one night, you probably can’t handle anything more.”
Your day is coming. There is a woman out there who is going to bring your crazy ass to your knees. Quinn’s words from a few months earlier invaded Malik’s thoughts. He remembered teasing Quinn mercilessly after watching him fall under Alandra’s spell.
“Shit! I’m fucking screwed,” Malik mumbled and dropped down in the chair next to Wiz.
“Maybe not totally screwed, but you’re definitely going to have to clean up your language.” Wiz crossed his legs, lifting one ankle to rest on the opposite knee. “I’m pretty sure Natasha won’t tolerate your incessant cursing. Man, just ask her out. I don’t understand why that’s so hard.”
“I don’t want to ask her out! Don’t you get it?”
Wiz’s eyebrows knitted together. “Apparently I don’t.”
“Despite what happened that night, Tasha is not the type of woman you just hit it and quit it. She’s … she’s different, special. You know me. I’m out to have a good time. I’m not looking for forever, and she’s a forever kind of woman.”
“Tasha, huh? Well,” Wiz stood and shoved his hands deep into the front pockets of his jeans and braced his weight on one leg, “all I have to say is that if you’re interested in Natasha, go for it. If you don’t someone else will.”
Malik cursed under his breath. He hadn’t thought of Natasha seeing anyone. He gripped the arms of his seat and pushed up to a standing position, irritation twisting in his gut.
“Sometimes you get on my last fuc—”
Two light taps against his office door, followed by a bark, halted Malik’s words.
“Sorry to interrupt guys,” Victoria Bracero said, stepping inside of the office. Tank, Malik’s Rottweiler, was at her heels, and trotted over to him, his tongue wagging.
“What’s up, boy?” Malik bent down and ruffled the dog’s short fur. Tank had been his constant companion since Malik retired from the military almost two years earlier.
“Hey Vicky,” Wiz said.
Victoria, Malik’s executive assistant and right-hand woman, strolled across the room. Her blonde curls bounced with each long step. She wasn’t only Malik’s assistant. Her sexy looks, physical strength, and street-smarts converted easily into a standby bodyguard when he needed her in a pinch. Few would believe that she knew twenty different ways to kill a man with an ink pen as her only weapon.
“What’s up, Wiz? I haven’t seen you in a while.” She stepped into his waiting arms and smiled a salacious smile that seemed to be reserved for him. “Where you been hidin’?”
“I’ve been around.” They hugged and Wiz planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’re never here when I stop by.”
“I know. My boss,” she jerked her head toward Malik and quirked her eyebrows, “treats me more like a personal assistant than an executive assistant.”
“I’m sure. He’s a regular slave driver.”
“I don’t appreciate you two talking about me like I’m not here.” Malik walked around his desk, with Tank following close behind. “Vicky, thanks for picking up Tank from daycare. How did he do this morning?”
“They said he had a good day, but you know they love him there.” Victoria headed toward the door. Malik had no idea how she moved around so seamlessly in four-inch heels, but she strutted in them as if they were tennis shoes. “Considering how large he is, I think most people are surprised by his laid-back demeanor.”
Malik bent down and ran his hand along Tank’s strong back. The dog’s shiny black coat glistened under the office lights as he patted Tank’s side. “Yeah, my boy here is just like me: cool, calm, and collected until someone
steps out of line.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Victoria smirked at Wiz. “All right, fellas, I have a little more work to do before I head out. Let me know if you guys need anything.”
“Now getting back to what we were talking about,” Wiz said after Victoria closed the door. “Apparently you and Tasha had enough in common to spend the night with each other, and most of the next day together. You even cooked for her. I think that speaks volumes. Ask her out and see what happens.”
Another knock sounded at the door and Victoria walked in, closing the door behind her.
“Hey, Malik, there’s a lady in the waiting area.” She glanced down at the small yellow pad of paper in her hands. “Her name is Rosalyn Lee. I told her that since she didn’t have an appointment and you were in a meeting, you might not be able to see her this late, but she said it’s urgent. It’s about her sister. I guess she was a friend of yours. Do you have time to speak with her?”
“Actually, I have to get out of here anyway,” Wiz said and handed Malik a flash drive. “That’s the info you requested.” Then he turned to Victoria. “Vicky, baby, take care of yourself and don’t let this big lug of a boss work you too hard.” He kissed her hand and headed for the door.
“Okay, Wiz, hope to see you soon,” she said, her grin huge and her tone flirtatious. “You know you can come by even if Malik isn’t here.”
Wiz laughed, but kept walking. Malik didn’t know why she bothered flirting with him when she knew what everyone else knew: Wiz was still in love with his ex-wife, Olivia. Even a woman as fine as Victoria couldn’t distract him from his plans of reuniting with his ex.
“Now who did you say she was again?” Malik asked, bringing Victoria’s attention back to her reason for being in his office. Dropping the flash drive into his pants pocket, he moved to his desk.
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