Page 53 of Shark’s Rise

“Right. We’ll be in the security trailer when you arrive.” I disconnected the call and flopped down in the nearest chair. What I wouldn’t give to be at home, in bed, with the warm, willing woman who was carrying my child.

The woman I should’ve never brought back to this fucked-up mess of my daily life. But it was too late now for that clarity, wasn’t it?

Chapter Nine

Abbigail

Uggghhh.

After being used to sleeping in and doing nothing all day, I’d forgotten how painful four thirty a.m. really was.

It was called an ungodly hour for a reason, I guessed—and now I knew why. There was nothing holy about my phone’s vibration buzzing incessantly in my ear. But I had only myself to blame. I’d purposely put my phone’s alarm to the setting, already knowing what kind of a skirmish I’d get from Sebastian if he knew I was getting up and going into the kitchen today. Fortunately, fate had intervened with some kind of an emergency he had to deal with at the Edge’s construction site, so he’d crawled in beside me only an hour and a half before. Now, a freight train could’ve barreled through our bedroom and he wouldn’t have moved a muscle.

Or so I thought.

For good measure, I’d put my work clothes in one of the guest rooms. I also planned on showering and getting ready for work in there. If Bas even sniffed what I was up to, there’d be hell to pay—but I had no intention of sitting in the house all day, every day, like I had in Twentynine Palms.

Besides, this wasn’t complete freedom. Bas and Elijah had set up a security network that could likely be seen from space. It covered the property, the neighborhood, and likely every pore of my body. No matter where I went, I would be safe. I’d have to be okay with that. But so would he. It was that simple.

Or so I thought.

This was Sebastian Albert Shark I was considering, after all.

I set aside that thought while climbing into the guest room’s shower. It wasn’t so easy to ignore how I felt physically when finishing up the task. As I got out of the stall, I was already a little nauseated and lightheaded—a troubling recognition, considering my minor amount of activity, but I was determined to push through and actually accomplish something in my day for once. I’d delivered lunches while battling allergies, fevers, and once, even a sprained ankle. A tiny upset stomach wasn’t going to hold me down, damn it.

I used my silent pep talk for strength to start fluffing through my hair, getting rid of the excess water in my unruly curls.

Until I ran directly into the brick wall of a man standing just outside the shower door.

I was pretty sure the whole neighborhood heard my startled yelp.

“Jesus Christ, Bas,” I blurted. “You scared the crap out of me!” When he replied with nothing but a sleep-deprived glower, I went on with my nervous stammering. “Wh-What are you doing up? You just came home a little while ago. You should be in bed, babe.”

That still didn’t earn me any spoken reaction, though he ticked up one eyebrow and crossed his arms in a foreboding pose across his bare chest.

Clearly my only option was to ignore his sexy-as-hell brood.

I continued with my after-shower routine, though I had to step around him several times to look into the mirror. He followed every move I made with his stony, unyielding expression. He didn’t falter the look by an inch, and I could tell he was gearing up to dole out a lecture, and I could also sense it was one I didn’t want to hear.

“Go back to bed, Bas. You don’t need to hover here while I get ready.”

“And what exactly do you think you’re getting ready for?”

That made it official. I was unnerved. His calm tone was eerier than a poltergeist’s howl. By now, I wished he’d just yell it out and be done with it.

“I’m going to work.” I held back the “duh,” but barely. “I have a business to run, remember? And I’ve taken more than my share of time off. I’ve been leaning on Rio way too much since the Edge’s groundbreaking. It’s time to get back to it.”

“It’s time to—” He saved me from having to stomp on his snarl by interrupting himself. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.” I smoothed more concealer in under my eyes. Then a little bit more. Then just huffed, giving up. Clearly, I wasn’t going to be fresh and dewy and bright-eyed today. “Things have been so chaotic lately, and it’s been so unfair to her—”

“Fuck fair.” He loomed in until he was angled between the mirror and me, forcing me to confront the dual laser beams of his glare. “Abbi…goddammit. This is your health we’re talking about—and now the baby’s. How do you feel right now? Because you look like shit.”

“Gee thanks, honey,” I said bitterly, patting his arm for extra sarcastic effect. For all his talk about my stupidity, had he really said something so careless? But I could answer that for myself, and that word was yes. He was probably more exhausted than me right now and not thinking before he spoke. “You really should just go back to bed before we get into an argument, before you say something thoughtless. Oops.” I lolled my head to the side harshly. “Too late.” I gave him a sideways glare while pushing back in toward the mirror, giving my under-eye makeup just one more try.

“There’s no way I’m allowing you to go to the kitchen.”

“I’m sorry?” I pivoted to face him, slamming my cover-up onto the counter in emphasis. “Did you just say allow me?”