Page 78 of His to Love
“No,” he snapped. His lips were pressed into a straight line and he gestured toward the car with a dip of his chin. “Get in the car.”
Coiling sensations tightened in my gut when I chose to obey his order. It was clear I wasn’t being given an option, anyway. He followed me into the car and slid onto the bench on the other side. He barely had time to situate himself in his seat, picking up a file folder that was placed next to him, before the car was moving.
“I told you that regardless of your decision to marry me, that your protection is still my prerogative.”
My stomach tightened further and I nodded once, clasping my hands together in my lap. “You did. Although I’m not sure I understand.”
“I had a man following you this week.”
My eyes widened. “You what?” I asked, as my pulse began to thrum quicker and harder in my veins.
“It appears you’re not keeping good company.”
I shook my head. This had to be a joke. Of all the bullshit things for Malik to do. Anger boiled inside me.
“You have got to be fucking joking with me right now.”
“I never joke when it comes to business.”
“And I am not your business,” I snapped, leaning forward. My dress suddenly felt too tight. Too heavy.
Malik picked up the folder next to him and flicked it outward.
“I’m not talking about you,” he sneered, finally losing a semblance of control. “I’m talking aboutmybusiness. Your father’s business. Fuck, Gabriella, I’m talking about your family.”
“And I’m telling you I don’t understand.”
“Read the file.” His hand shook the file, and I watched as pages inside flickered with the sudden movement. “Take the damn file.”
I hesitantly reached for it, taking it from him as if it was a snake that might attack at any moment. When it was in my hands, I frowned at Malik. His lips were white and pulled tight. His jaw was clenched shut. His eyes shot daggers out toward me as if I had somehow betrayed him.
I set the file in my lap, my stomach dipping and flipping with nerves. I had no clue what he was talking about, I could only assume it had to do with Tyson.
I opened the file and I gasped as I learned my instinct was correct.
“What is this?” I asked, slowly flipping through pages of photos. Hand-scribbled notes were next to the photographs with names of people when Tyson was talking to someone and places when he was walking into a building. I looked up at Malik and saw his anger clear in his black eyes. “My father has tried this once before, telling me Tyson was dating me to gain family secrets. Last time, it was all a lie.”
“This time it’s not.”
I didn’t want to believe him, but I couldn’t help but be curious as to what else was inside. I looked further into the file, reading all the scribbled and typed notes. None of them made sense, and my frown dipped deeper until I got to the third page. My world began spinning and spinning until I felt it begin to crumble.
FBI.
“No.” I inhaled, unable to exhale. My fingers trailed over the photo of Tyson walking into a tan building with curved windows on the ground level. Just above the main doors were the stamped words, “Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
“What does this mean?” I asked, lifting my shocked eyes to Malik.
His eyes roamed my face and then dropped to the file in my hands. “It means that the man you’re fucking is working for the FBI.”
I jolted at the term fucking. He was so much more than that.
Wasn’t he?
“He c-can’t be,” I stuttered, unable to look back down at the photos. I didn’t need to. Malik wasted no time taking the file out of my lap and began flipping through notes and photos and God knows what else.
“Tyson Blackwell, age twenty-eight. Graduated from Detroit East High in 2005. Attended Central University where he was believed to be an easy first-round draft pick by the Philadelphia Eagles until a knee injury ended his career before it began. Graduated with a degree in criminal justice.”
“I know all this,” I whispered. My voice was hoarse from dryness. I could feel the blood drain from my face with every word he spoke.
