Page 77 of Shark’s Rise

He finally let go of my arms, raising his hands in surrender.

“Mr. Shark.” The greeting came from Abbi’s obstetrician, who’d just appeared through a set of wide double doors. “We’ve been expecting you. If you’ll come with me, I can take you back to Miss Gibson.”

The woman nodded as if we were in a restaurant and she was simply showing me to my reserved table. That shit wasn’t going to fly any more than my buddies’ efforts at restraint. I stopped her with an urgent hand to her elbow.

“Dr. Julie,” I pleaded. “Help me out here. Nobody’s told me anything—only that she was brought in via ambulance. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“We can talk in front of Abbigail, Mr. Shark,” the efficient brunette answered. “She’s aware of the whole situation already, and maybe it’s best that we talk as a team.”

I nodded. At least I thought I did. Beneath my breath, I repeated the doctor’s last sentence. It was oddly calming, so I did it again—

Until she pushed the door open.

I was all but knocked off my feet when I saw Abbigail. Why did these places always reduce the person in the bed to a helpless, sickly looking stranger?

I didn’t want to know that answer. I was too focused on gulping down the rising panic in my throat, the prickling fear along my neck. I clawed at myself there, but it didn’t help in restoring my control. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move air into my lungs and form words with my lips and tongue.

“Is…is she sleeping?” I whispered.

“Mmm. Maybe. We gave her a mild sedative.” The doctor placed her hand on my arm, already predicting the questions I was about to cut free. “Something that’s safe for the baby at this stage; don’t worry.”

“Hey, I’m awake,” Abbi said quietly. “Just resting.” A wan smile hitched at the edges of her lips. “Hi, Papa.”

I rushed over but halted hard when I got to the side of the bed. I didn’t want to hurt her, and there were wires and monitors and tubes everywhere. She even had an oxygen cannula under her nose.

“Red. Baby. What is all this?” I turned back to Dr. Sanford, impaling her with my stare. Answers. I needed answers. Five minutes ago.

“The oxygen is just to put less strain on Abbigail right now. She was significantly stressed when they brought her in. The cramping can be painful, and pain does some crazy things to all parts of the body.” The woman walked up to the other side of the bed while she spoke. “So right now, mostly everything you see here is just for comfort and to get our mama feeling better. When she feels better, the little one will relax and settle down. All the drama tonight was his way of letting Abbi know he wasn’t happy with the strain she was putting on her body.”

Fuck.

I managed to hold the oath in, though not my stern look at Abbigail. But her eyes were closed, so she didn’t get the benefit of my frustration.

But she would. Oh, how she would.

“We’ve already had a long talk about why Abbi won’t be doing that again and what it could mean for the baby if she does.” The doctor’s smile was gentle. Abbi also smiled but kept her eyes closed. The little sneak knew what she was doing. More accurately, she likely knew what I was doing—and how to avoid the fallout from it. “If I were you, I’d consider this the one and only warning he was probably willing to give,” Sanford went on. “Next time, he will pack his bags and move out. And we all know it’s just too early for that. We want to keep him a happy tenant for now.”

The woman was beyond tactful about her rebuke, perhaps because she sensed mine wouldn’t be.

“Are you hearing her?” I broke in at once. My voice was three times the decibel level of Sanford’s, layered with the same ratio of fury. “Abbigail? Are you seriously listening to Dr. Julie right now?”

Her gaze flew open. Her greens were gleaming with emotion, though for the first time in a long time, I couldn’t decipher the exact source of it. She wasn’t completely contrite, but she wasn’t full of sorrow either.

Or maybe she was.

To the point it had transformed into something else, as well.

“Yes, Sebastian.” Her voice was just as impossible to figure out. The tremor beneath it didn’t help. Was she mad? Sad? Scared? Frustrated? Confused? All of the above? Because I sure as hell was. “I know the drill. I’ve already talked about all of this with the doctor before you got here.”

“Gee, thanks. That’s completely reassuring.” I spat it out, and so many parts of my brain ordered me to take it back. But I was floundering for self-control here, and that path always took one path. Right through my temper. “So sorry I wasn’t here for the full debriefing. My apologies. I was in fucking parking lot traffic on the 101 for a damn hour, thinking someone had actually listened to me and was taking it easy on herself at the party she insisted on planning. I was ready to get out and run down the side of the freeway, thinking I’d arrive just in time to hear her say I’d missed all the important shit. I was losing my goddamned mind—”

“Okay.” Julie Sanford clapped a hand over my right bicep with three times the force of Twombley and Banks combined. “Mr. Shark? Yelling at Abbigail now isn’t going to change a thing, all right? We’ve talked, and she understands what she did that caused the cramping and the spotti—”

I sliced her short when snapping back toward Abbi. “You were bleeding?” I demanded. “No one said you were spotting! Why wasn’t I told?”

“Bas!” Though the last of her rebuke was a raging hiss, her eyes shined with iridescent moisture. “If you’d calm down long enough, I could—”

“I am calm!”