Page 47 of Shark’s Rise

“You know, just to make sure she doesn’t forget anything. I think she’s more tired than she’s letting on, and a lot of information is being passed back and forth right now.” She bit her lip then, sneaking a furtive glance up at me. “I’m…umm…not overstepping, am I? I was just trying to help, Mr. Shark. Honest.”

I wrapped a reassuring hand around one of her shoulders. “I know, Dori. And I’m not upset.”

Beneath my hand, her tension finally released. “Are you sure?”

“Quite the opposite,” I assured her. “Actually, I’m impressed with your initiative.” And then, I even smiled—and meant it. “I think you’re going to be a great assistant for Ms. Gibson.”

“Good. Thank you so much, Mr. Shark.” Her reply was taking a bath in pure relief. With the same happy gusto, she stowed her smart pad in her backpack.

“Let’s hit the road.” The exhortation belonged to Abbi this time. She tugged me eagerly toward the car—after hugging Joel like he was a beloved cousin she hadn’t seen for ten years. “It was nice knowing you, Twentynine Palms, but I’ll be happy if I never see you again.” She swung up a hand, already playing the diplomatic disclaimer. “No offense to the fine folks who call this place home. It’s just not mine.”

But her sardonicism disappeared as soon as the villa staff gathered to see us off. Abbigail joined Elijah in issuing personal farewells to each and every one of them on the front drive. My tenderhearted woman was tear-streaked and exhausted by the time I got her settled in the back of the car.

Abbi slept in my arms for the majority of the ride home. Traffic was light until we got back into our own city. By the time we wound up the hill into our neighborhood, we had been in the car over four hours, making only one stop for gas and snacks.

“Home sweet home,” I whispered to my sleeping beauty, and her emerald eyes popped open immediately.

“Hmmm? We’re here already?” she asked sleepily.

I chuckled into her hair, and then kissed the top of her head. I was certain everyone else in the car commiserated with my impression: that we’d been counting the minutes to get out of the damn vehicle for good.

But as soon as we got out, Dori froze in place again. “This is your house?” She openly gasped. “It’s…so beautiful!” She gawked while absorbing the sight of my home, from its wide sienna clay tile roofline to the dramatic, arched front portico.

“Well, the place in the desert wasn’t too shabby either,” Abbigail returned while linking arms with the girl. “Come on. I’ll show you around inside.” At once, she’d shifted into her happy zone of welcoming hostess. “After that, maybe we’ll rustle up a snack for everyone in the kitchen, and then we can get you settled in the pool house out back.”

“Abbigail…” I focused on making it more a friendly nudge than an ominous order. She literally hadn’t even stepped inside yet.

“Hmmm?” She smiled at me over her shoulder. “Did I forget something in the car?”

“No. But Dr. Landon specifically said you have to rest. And it’s been a long drive—”

“That I slept through?” she rebutted.

“Doesn’t matter.” I moved in, wrapped my hand around hers, and tugged her close. So it was more like jerking her back and forcing her to slow down, but civility be damned. I’d given in big-time about this; it was time for reciprocation. “Why don’t you go to lie down, and I’ll have Craig show Dori where she’ll be staying?”

She clenched her jaw. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Bas.”

“He’s not here.” I flashed an I’m-not-kidding smile. “There’s only me to please right now, and I’d rather you rest.”

“But I just slept for”—she looked at her watch—“four damn hours. I won’t overdo it, I promise.” She held up her fingers in a Scout’s oath. “It will feel good to stretch my legs and get some sun on my face without the scorching heat. Plus, I’ve missed this place so much.”

I grunted hard. She batted those big greens harder. And I was gone.

“All right, Dori; you’re in charge.” I sighed in concession. “First sign of dizziness or nausea, and she’s back in the house. Understood?”

“Of course, Mr. Shark.”

Elijah and I headed straight to my office, where we were going to address the security team. As we walked, I mumbled, “Why do I already get the sense this was a bad idea?”

“Because you’re paranoid.” My friend shoulder-bumped me. “It’s going to be fine. She’s going to be fine.” When I didn’t ease up, Banks reached over and gave me a full-on reassuring clamp. People rarely touched me, but Elijah and Grant had freedoms others didn’t.

“How can you be so confident?” I growled.

He shrugged. I wanted to both deck him and hug him for it. “I don’t know. Call it intuition, man.”

One by one, Elijah’s men filled my study. Their oversize bodies quickly made the room seem small. Fifteen men would patrol the house and grounds around the clock, seven days a week. The other ten, comprised mostly of men from my existing LA security detail, would patrol the neighborhood and help relieve the house team when necessary. The neighborhood’s security force agreed to allow me to add an extra guard of my own at the entrance gate of the community itself, as well as an extra man at the lesser-used back gate. The association board had been understanding of the request upon my explanation for the heightened security, a necessity considering recent publicity surrounding the Edge and publicized deaths of women I was associated with. Of course, my sizable donation to the neighborhood’s private park initiative went a long way toward opening their minds—and cooperation levels.

“Thank you all for taking this matter seriously,” I said to wrap up the security briefing. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to catch up on some things I missed while we drove home. Elijah, can you email me the team’s schedule each week? That way if someone doesn’t show up for a shift, I’ll know who to fire.” I made sure every man in the room heard what I said to my friend.