Shark’s Rise: Shark’s Edge: Book Three

by ANGEL PAYNE

  “What?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Who are you, and what did you do with my Little Red?” I tried—and failed—to make it a joke.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was expecting a full PowerPoint about why we should have the Feds involved in this.” I couldn’t help but frown.

  “I trust you, Bas. I’m sure you know what’s best.” She snuggled back into my side, but I pulled away again.

  “What?” she asked again, this time getting a little snippier. But barely.

  “Seriously, Abs. What’s going on?” I pressed, more stern about it. She was really worrying me.

  “Seriously.” She mocked my concerned tone. “Nothing.”

  I squinted my eyes at her, not buying her bullshit for a second.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she retorted. “I’m not working an angle here. It’s simply called acquiescence, Sebastian. Resignation, if you’d rather.”

  I rocked back. To be honest, I was stunned her two-by-four of an admission hadn’t knocked me completely to my ass. How was the word resignation even in the woman’s vocabulary? “Explain.”

  She sighed. “Bas—”

  “Explain.” I gritted it this time, though she barely seemed to care. A listless shrug preceded her listless plop back to the bench.

  “I don’t know.” She waved a hand around with aimless uncertainty. “I guess…this. The whole situation.” She sat up straighter as I lowered back next to her. “Look,” she said, turning so we directly faced each other again, “I’m not trying to be evasive. Right now, I’m simply trying to be coherent. I’ve just spent an entire week locked away in my room, crying my eyes out until I was sick to my stomach every goddamn day. It’s not a good feeling, Sebastian.”

  “I know.” No way could I pull the heartless bastard card right now. Part of me prayed that was still even possible, but it wasn’t. My twisting gut confirmed the inevitable truth. Abbigail Gibson held the damn thing in the palm of her hand, now and forever. “And, baby, I’m so sorry.” I took her hands and reverently kissed each one. “I’m just trying to keep you safe here.”

  “I understand that. And I also understand that no matter how much I cry and kick and yell, you are going to leave me here again. You’re going back to your life in Los Angeles, and—”

  “My life?” I deliberately punched out the second word. Barely resisted adding an acrid laugh—because right now, that term was truly a joke to me. “What makes you think I have any kind of a life without you?”

  Abbigail didn’t say a thing. She just stared, still eerily calm. Scarily resigned. “But you’re still going back without me. And we still won’t even talk on the phone for days on end.”

  “Damn it.” I shoved back up to my feet. Grabbed the back of my neck. “I’m doing my best here, Abbigail.” But at once, even I realized how ridiculous that sounded. “I…I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping my distance.”

  And now, beyond ridiculous.

  Further proof? Abbi’s continued stillness. And palpable, discernible tension.

  She threw me one shred of mercy by speaking again.

  “Wow.”

  Okay, only one word. But I could work with that. “What?” I softly demanded.

  “You weren’t joking.” She shook her head, exposing the wet tracks across her cheeks even as she wiped with visible frustration. “You really don’t know how to be a boyfriend, do you?”

  “No.” I grimaced. “I guess I don’t.” As I dropped my hand, it felt like a goddamned anchor of grief. “I’m so sorry I made all this harder for you. I thought that if we talked a lot, it would just make us miss each other more.”

  She dropped her hands too. Gripped them to the edge of the bench. “So you thought not talking at all was the answer?” She searched my face as disbelief washed over all her features.

  “Uhh…yes?”

  “Jesus Christ, Sebastian Shark.” A laugh spilled from her. She rocked her head back. “You’re a fucking idiot. Do you know that?”

  “Well, I do now.” I emulated her grin. “Come on.” I stepped over and pulled her to her feet. “I have the very sudden urge to fuck you senseless.”

  “Is that so?” She went for coy with the smile now.

  “Oh, it definitely is.”

  “Hmmm.” She averted her sparkling gaze from my hooded one. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” I started tugging her along the path back to the house. When we got there, her giggles filled the terra cotta courtyard—and I rejoiced in the magical sound. A lost treasure unearthed.

  “Well, you screwed up the easy part of boyfriending pretty monumentally,” she continued explaining. “Who’s to say you even know what you’re doing in the bedroom?”

  I halted, making her do the same, while growling out, “Watch yourself, young lady.”

  She only laughed harder. “Hey, I’m serious! Talking on the phone is Boyfriend 101!”

  I hauled her back to me so swiftly, she thudded into my chest. I dipped her back and kissed the exposed valley between her breasts. She moaned out my name as I continued suckling up her neck—at least until I got to her lips. Those succulent pillows were shiny and ready, all but begging for the plunge of my tongue. Her eyes were glassy and mischievous, surely matching my own.

  The recognition brought a brand-new grin to my own mouth.

  She was back.

  At least for now.

  And to see this new life breathed back into her, to know I’d brought it, made my heart ache—and my soul agonize.

  Please. Please whoever the fuck is listening to my hopeless soul…don’t let me destroy this perfect creature. I’m begging you, don’t let me ruin her.

  “So at what grade level does the student get to learn about the fucking stuff?” I asked, grateful for the humor—and the lust beneath. Both were damn good smokescreens for the deeper emotions that vied for pole position on my tongue.

  “Oh, that’s the senior thesis project, I’m afraid,” she answered, obviously trying to stifle her impending laughter. “You may have a lot of research to do before you’re ready for your final dissertation.”

  “And that’s an interesting analogy, Ms. Gibson.”

  “And why’s that, Mr. Shark?”

  “I got straight As in every class I ever took, you know.” I set her down but didn’t let her get far. With my hands lowering around her ass, I ground my growing shaft against her warm, welcoming cleft. “I make an excellent teacher’s pet.”

  “Well, then.” She traced a fingertip across my bottom lip. “We’d better hurry inside then, before the bell rings. You don’t want detention on your first day, do you?”

  With that, she took off running. She squealed with laughter as I playfully growled, chasing hot on her heels. We ran through the house to her room, where I tackled her onto the bed. She was facedown, and I was instantly turned on. I pinned her there by sitting on top of her, holding her arms above her head. Her chest pumped heavily from the exertion of bolting away from me.

  “I love you, Abbigail.” I rasped it into her ear before dipping down to drag her pants over her hips. Despite my tender declaration, I was feeling anything but soft and sensual. I needed her—in every way—and right now.

  “I love you too,” she moaned, and the sound gained a notch of volume as I pulled her clothes all the way off. On my way back up, I caressed her round, luscious ass. As I swatted it, she giggled.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, turning her face to the side. “Just in case I haven’t told you in the past hour.” She bit her lip seductively. “It just feels so good…to laugh.”

  Except that now, she wasn’t doing that. Just like that, her eyes brimmed with tears again. Not only one or two. The angst came in a full torrent, the huge drops coursing down her flushed cheeks.

  “Fuck! Not again!” She buried her face in the blankets. Her whole body shook from the deluge. I moved with my sole instinctual re
action, immediately gathering her into my arms and holding her against my chest. My erection deflated with each sob that racked her alarmingly thin body. I could feel the sharp outline of her shoulder blades as she reached up and clung to me—resulting in me backtracking over the calendar, reminding myself it really had been only a week since I sent her here.

  No. I had to be wrong. This had to be wrong. And if it wasn’t…

  How was it physically possible?

  How could she have lost so much weight in such a short amount of time? Had she gotten this sick, this fast? Was something going on before she’d left? Something I hadn’t noticed? Or was all of this more than simple stress?

  My God.

  What if she was dying? What if she had some sort of terminal disease and hadn’t told me? What if she knew that I was falling in love with her and that I’d be left to grieve for a life that could’ve been?

  Christ. And I always thought she was the one who got spun too far up?

  There had to be another explanation. A logical one. But when I tried to tilt back and better assess her, Abbi refused to let go. She clung to me even tighter.

  “Baby?” I prodded. No answer. “Abs?” Still nothing but shuddering sniffles. “Abbigail Eileen.” Okay, that got a moment of stillness, at least—to which I took full advantage. “Okay, you’re scaring the living shit out of me. What is going on? And don’t you dare fucking say ‘nothing.’ So help me, I will spank you on top of everything else right now.”

  She jolted her face up. “I’m—well, I’m just stressed out. This is a lot to deal with. You get that, right?”

  I cupped her cheek. “Yeah. I already told you—”

  “What you thought I wanted to hear.” Though she remained where she was, her voice went cold. Her gaze was dull and hard as jade. “But do you really understand this, Bas? Until you got here last night, I’ve had no one to talk to. No one! He— Elij— That man won’t even let me use the phone! So do you really know how the hell I feel?”

  I slid my touch down. The ball of her shoulder felt like a sparsely padded coat hanger. “I know that I want to, okay?”

  “Then start believing me.” In an angry lunge, she was off the bed and back on her feet. “You need to know about all of this, damn it. Do you know he did something to my cell phone so it won’t work in this house? Do you know that, Mr. Shark?” She stabbed her feet back into her pants. Once they were on, she stomped around the room. “He plays Mr. Innocent when I ask him about it, but he’s a liar about it all—and not a very good one! He doesn’t even try to be convincing!”

  By now, her chest was heaving with fury—proving that fate really had it in for me now. Every new breath thrusted her nipples harder against her T-shirt. It was pure torture, and I was only human. The human who was hopelessly, helplessly smitten with every inch of her…

  “Oh, dear God. Are you even listening to me? Or are you staring at my tits?”

  “Red. Baby. I’m sorry. But you seriously can’t blame me. You’re magnificent…”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She stomped over to the door and whooshed it open. As I glanced over, checking to make sure she hadn’t torn it off the hinges, she hollered, “You know what? Get out!”

  I nailed my stare back on her. “Excuse the hell out of me?”

  “You heard me,” Abbi snapped. “Just go hang out with the asshole. He’s your goddamn friend!”

  I maintained my position on the bed but gaped at her like she was possessed. “I’m only going to warn you one time, lady. Check yourself. And the attitude.”

  “Fuck you.” Abbi hiked up her chin. “And your warning! And your buddy! And his attitude! How does all of that sound?”

  Finally, I stood from the bed—though I never unpinned my stare from hers. Invisible electricity zapped between us, intensifying as I approached her. One calm step. Another and then another and then another, until I had her backed up against the wall adjacent to the open doorway she’d so adamantly insisted I use. The terminology was my version of benevolence, though likely for my sanity more than hers. If I thought of her tactics as a pure order, she’d be getting different treatment than this already.

  But I was feeling benevolent.

  I continued reminding myself of that while pressing the entire plane of my body against hers. I moved in as though I were going to kiss her but continued past her mouth to growl into her ear, “I understand you’re not feeling well, and I also understand you’re under a lot of stress, but this behavior is uncalled for. I’ll be in the office when you’re ready to apologize.”

  With a measured step backward, I held her stare, then turned and left the room. I didn’t bother closing the door, figuring she’d slam the thing behind me in her fury. Surprisingly, after getting about fifteen feet down the corridor, I heard it close softly. Instantly, she engaged the lock, as well.

  In the office of the Twentynine Palms estate, I sank into an overstuffed leather chair with a tall vodka tonic. Not my usual drink of choice, but nothing about today had been usual.

  I watched three lizards battle for the prime sunning spot on a flat rock in the late-afternoon sun. They took turns with their dominant displays of what looked like push-ups, until one daunted the other two into backing off. He lifted his head, seeming to crow while spreading out unchallenged.

  Not much different than humans.

  The conclusion made my lips quirk. Not a lot. Just enough to acknowledge the stupid truth here. Living creatures were all pretty much the same. The strongest survived. The beast who could intimidate all the others into tucking tail and running was left with the best sunning spot in the end. The old phrase from the eighteen hundreds, “To the victor belong the spoils,” came to mind.

  Victor.

  No. Viktor.

  My smile faded.

  Viktor Blake.

  My pulse thundered.

  “Jesus fucked a lizard,” I muttered—as a new fact of life smacked me in the face like a wet towel.

  The charm. On the key ring. It was associated with that bastard. The hairs on the back of my neck, all sporting instinctual erections, confirmed it. The recesses of my brain just couldn’t put the exact details together. Not yet.

  Not that I was about to waste time waiting on my goddamned gray matter.

  I dug into my pocket, eager to grab my phone and get a text off to Elijah. He and Joel had gone out to town—if that was what it could be called—for restocks on groceries and other supplies.

  When my fingers met nothing but pocket lint, I swore beneath my breath. I must have left the device in Abbi’s room—but I’d be damned if I was going back into that hornet’s nest anytime soon.

  So, I enjoyed my drink and looked out at the property. For all of the five minutes I could stand it. Okay, so not much happened around here. As in, not at all. I could appreciate why the boredom might drive someone a bit to their limits. At the same time, being forced to unwind for a few days carried some of its own merit too. Abbi was going to have to find something to do with her time here. I really thought the gourmet kitchen would give her pleasure. If she wanted ingredients for culinary adventures, experimenting with new recipes, or just to cook for enjoyment, all she had to do was ask Elijah to get them. I’d given him, and the rest of the staff, carte blanche on what they had to spend. I’d ransom one of my own kidneys just to make the woman happy.

  But she wasn’t.

  At all.

  And Elijah had helped make her that way.

  I leaned my head back and let out a heavy sigh. Where had I gone wrong with those two? They were at each other’s throats with a stunning level of intensity. They either really hated each other that much, or—

  I swore again and ordered the thought to fuck off. Too late. The nagging voice persisted, wondering if something was actually going on between them. As insane as the idea seemed, I couldn’t bury my head in the sand. Elijah was one of my best friends. And Abbigail was—

  Well, Elijah knew what she was to me.

  A
nd while the man was sarcastic, arrogant, and annoyingly bold, he was also loyal, smart, and valued his testicles.

  Which was why I could officially quash that stupid misgiving.

  “Christ,” I muttered, slugging back more alcohol. I’d just used misgiving in a complete sentence. About myself.

  I drained the last of my drink, rose, and then headed to the kitchen. I could no longer ignore the aromas emanating from there, filling the entire house with savory spices. My stomach growled loudly enough to echo back from the tile floor.

  I nearly dropped my tumbler upon finding Abbigail cooking side by side with one of the estate’s staff members. I wasn’t sure if I should quietly turn in the other direction and just leave her to it or engage her in conversation. The decision was taken from me when she abruptly lifted her gaze, as if sensing my presence.

  “Something smells fantastic,” I said with a natural smile, hoping to test the waters between us. “I came to investigate.”

  Abbi copied my look, though it was an automatic expression. She could just as easily have been smiling at a stranger on an elevator or waving at the nosey neighbor from her Torrance condo days. “Martha was making mole sauce and asked if I wanted to help. I told her the other day that I’d never made it before, so she’s teaching me.”

  “Well, don’t let me interrupt. I left my phone in the bedroom, and I just had an idea about that third charm.”

  “Of course you did.” Her reply matched the neutral nothingness of her smile, but I stowed my irritation. Right now, I had to focus on deciphering that symbol. The sooner we found these mysterious bastards, the sooner I could give Abbigail what she wanted. What I wanted more than anything too. Her, back with me every day and night.

  “Well, I’m going to call Elijah. We’re going to move on this shit as fast as possible.”

  Abbigail simply nodded, not breaking the pace of her stirring. While tamping deeper aggravation, I headed down the hall.

  I found my phone on the bed and saw I’d missed a call from Elijah. I hit redial without listening to the voicemail. He picked up after the first ring.