Page 24 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

A confident and polished African American woman in a gray business suit approached them. Her curly black hair sat neatly around her face, and the lines around her eyes testified to maturity and experience.

The woman held out her hand. “I’m Rochelle Davis, former FBI, and I head up this team. We’re very pleased you’re feeling better, Annabelle, and want you to know we’ll do everything in our power to keep you safe and comfortable. You are very brave to testify, and we have a lot of respect for your courage.”

Annabelle shook her hand. She felt solid. And real. It was reassuring and gave her the confidence to ask the question that terrified her: “You won’t try to take me away from here, will you?”

“No.” Rochelle smiled warmly. “We’ve turned this building into your safe house instead.” She gestured behind her to the large open-plan space, which was double the size Annabelle remembered. “I’m afraid we took some liberties and set ourselves up in here. I promise we’ll put everything back as we found it when it’s time to leave.”

“Oh, come on,” Evan groaned. “It was a pain in the backside taking that partition wall down. Please tell me you don’t intend for us to put it back up.”

“Actually,” Annabelle said before his boss could reply, “I like the space better this way.”

“That’s it,” Logan said to his brothers. “She’s perfect. I call dibs on her.”

Annabelle’s eyes went wide as Noah raised his voice. “Nobody’s calling dibs on the client.” He looked down at her. “They’re idiots. Ignore them.”

To Annabelle’s surprise, a giggle escaped her.

As he gave her a rueful smile, a gorgeous, tall Latino man crossed the room.

“I’m Rodrigo De la Cruz.” He held out his hand. “Noah’s right,” he said with a faint Spanish accent. “If one of the toddlers bothers you, talk to an adult in the room, and we’ll deal with them.”

“I get the feeling people are picking on us,” Logan said to Harris.

“It’s insulting,” Harris agreed.

The door to the office space opened, and another woman walked in. She was graceful and painfully thin. Her chestnut hair was cropped to a feathered cap that set off her delicate bone structure. She wore a high-necked blouse, wide-legged pants, and designer running shoes. In her hand was a folder and an iPad.

When she saw Annabelle, she smiled. “You’re awake. Has anyone given you something to eat or drink yet? Or shown you where your clothes are?”

“Uh, Noah gave me water.” Annabelle glanced down at her pajamas. “Clothes would be good.”

“Typical.” The new woman turned to Rochelle. “Do you need her for anything, or can I get her cleaned up and fed before you brief her?”

“She’s all yours,” Rochelle said. “Annabelle, meet Katrina Raast. Our resident project manager and reminder that we all need to learn some manners. We have another team member, Abasi, but he’s patrolling right now. You can meet him later.”

Katrina appeared to tense at the mention of her last teammate, but she quickly recovered and handed the folder to Rochelle before smiling at Annabelle. “Come on, we’ve stocked the kitchen on this floor, so I can cook you some breakfast while you get showered and changed. There are clothes for you in thebathroom down the hall. You must be desperate to get cleaned up after being in bed for days.”

Annabelle sucked in a breath as she reached up to touch her hair. If it looked half as bad as it felt, she was sporting a greasy, knotted mess. How humiliating!

Noah squeezed her shoulder. “You’re fine. You look exactly like someone should after they’ve been ill. Go with Katrina, and we’ll talk soon.”

Annabelle hesitated, suddenly anxious at the thought of having him out of her sight. A strange montage of memories flashed through her mind—Noah giving her medicine, feeding her soup, mopping her brow…

“You took care of me,” she said, awed. It had been a long time since anyone had been there to care for her when she was ill. However, the awe was soon shattered by another thought that heated her cheeks. “Who changed my clothes?”

“That would be me,” Katrina said. “I apologize for the Wonder Woman pj’s, but I shopped in a hurry.”

“Oh.” Annabelle’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” Katrina said. “Let’s get something other than chicken soup inside of you.”

Annabelle found herself looking up at Noah for reassurance.

The corner of his mouth quirked. “You’re safe in this building, and Katrina might look delicate, but she can shoot circles around anyone in this room.”

A little embarrassed, Annabelle reluctantly left the warmth of his side Katrina. “What do you mean, cook me something down here? I can get something from my kitchen upstairs after I’ve cleaned up.”

Katrina’s face was filled with sympathy as Annabelle walked with her out into the hallway. “Your apartment sustained some damage during the gunfight, but the cleanup crew’s been in, and we’re just finishing up in there. It’ll be good as new by the end ofthe day. Better even. We’ve upgraded your security system and fortified your panic room—so bullets won’t get through the walls in the future.”