Page 114 of Shark’s Pride

“Sebastian. You’re starting to freak me out.” No exaggeration there. Panic blared across every inch of her features like a neon sign. “I’m not going to just blindly agree to something you’re simply describing as a ‘this.’ On top of that, a ‘this’ you’ve had to ‘go over’ a number of times.”

I whooshed out a breath that was surely an oxygenated brick. “Abbi—”

“Just tell me what’s going on, damn it.”

“Fine. But you need to understand that your safety is my number-one priority. I will do what it takes to ensure you remain safe and secure—even if that seems like it isn’t the easiest choice at the moment. I will also do it by any means necessary.” I met her stare straight on and dropped my voice to my “don’t fuck with me” tone. I did it without hesitation, even ready to take it a few octaves lower. “Am I making myself completely clear?”

She shoved back, yanking her hands away. Well, trying. She didn’t get far. I maintained our grip like my life depended on the contact. Right now, maybe it did. “Tell. Me. What’s. Going. On.”

“When all the bullshit started at the house—the dead shark, Tawny showing up, the piranhas in the pool—we thought it might be best to get you out of harm’s way for a while. Frankly, we considered the same for Pia and Vela, as well.”

“Okay.” She didn’t extend it this time. The word was clipped, bordering on angry—right on track for the response I’d anticipated. The reaction for which I could no more blame her than sneezing from pollen. Her fire, will, and strength were what made her the woman I loved. What made her my irreplaceable, perfect woman. “And who exactly are ‘we’?” she demanded then.

“Elijah, Grant, and me.”

“Ah. Of course. But you and I have been through this.” She took advantage of my two-second distraction with her twisted pout to get her hands free. She gripped them around opposite shoulders, hugging herself. More accurately, shutting me out.

“Abbigail…”

I stepped forward, reaching for her.

She stumbled back, again warding me off.

“You said you’d listen to me.”

“Then talk,” she gritted out.

I hated this. Every damn second of it. I still forced myself to go on.

“We have a better understanding of the level of danger we’re talking about now, Abbigail. But I convinced Elijah to wait. He wanted to move you two weeks ago, and—”

“Move me?” she sputtered. “Move me—where?”

I raised my hand for her to stop. “After Viktor’s bullshit at the reception, I was convinced it was time too.”

Her mouth popped open as she continued backing away. “Bas. For the love of Christ! Viktor was just trying to get you riled up! Surely you, of all people, can see through his antics by now.”

“Not antics.” With each step she retreated, I advanced the same. Before she could interrupt again, because she pulled in air to do so, I spat out, “You don’t know him like I do, Abbigail. Don’t even pretend you do.”

She expelled her air on a grating huff. “Oh my God.” Plummeted her head into the cradle of her palms and rocked from side to side. “This is all so ridiculous.”

“I wish I could say it was, baby.”

My resigned mutter filled the time it took to pull out my phone once more. The air was pensive as I opened the text messages screen. Abbigail remained bunched in and stooped over, lifting only her head to glare at me. Skepticism still claimed her whole face—until I shoved the screen in front of her and started swiping through the mysterious messages—and disturbing images—from this morning.

Her glower flared. Became a stunned gawk. She lifted a hand and scrolled back through each photo of herself, the impact of them finally seeming to set in.

The violation of them.

All the implications from that.

“Wh-Who sent these to you?” Her voice fell to a rasp as she lifted her wide, tear-filled eyes to meet mine.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Elijah’s trying to track the number, but so far it looks like a burner phone.”

She nodded, but the motion was a collection of unsteady motions. She handed my phone back to me and slid down to the floor with her back against the window. The gravity of the situation was clearly, finally sinking in for her. While I was relieved, another section of my soul fissured. She was terrified and rightfully so. And being with me was the reason.

A sharp knock on the door had us both startling.