Page 34 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“Eddie Hanson,” Noah said.

“Yes, Eddie. He reached around to the small of his back and pulled out a gun. The v-victim was pleading, but it made no difference. Eddie held his arm out straight and shot him in the chest.”

Annabelle kept her gaze fixed on Noah, as though he were a lifeline. He squeezed her hands, offering reassurance and strength.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “The victim slid down the wall and toppled to his side. Eddie stepped forward and shot him in the head. I freaked out and jerked backward, tripping over my own feet and landing on the floor. I scrambled to my work area, grabbed my camera, and ran back to the window. Eddie was crouched in front of the victim, his gun in one hand as he took something from the man’s pocket with the other. His three friends now had their guns out too and were very alert, watching every shadow around them.

“I made sure to stay out of sight while taking as many photos as I could, but I was shaking so badly that they were all outof focus when I looked at them later. They were taken with the wrong settings too because I forgot to adjust for the low-light conditions.”

“That’s why your testimony is important to the DA,” Noah said with understanding. “The photos aren’t enough on their own.”

“No, they aren’t. Each of the men kicked the victim before they sauntered out of the alley as though nothing had happened. They were laughing when they got into their car. I-I couldn’t take any more photos after that.” She swallowed down a wave of shame. “I was too busy vomiting. When I was done, I called the police, but I, uh, didn’t let them in until my therapist got here.” She paused, feeling all kinds of pathetic. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“You made the right decisions,” Noah said. “Calling the doc was perfect. You needed someone in your corner while you dealt with the cops. As for throwing up, don’t sweat it. We’ve all been there. Right?” He glanced at the triplets.

To her surprise, it wasn’t the guys who replied but Violet, who now stood at the entrance to the loft. Annabelle had been so focused on her story that she hadn’t heard her come in.

“I vomited the first time I attended a murder scene,” Violet said. “Totally screwed up the evidence. It’s a natural reaction.”

Evan looked at his brothers. “I didn’t know she had those.”

As Violet gave him a death glare, Annabelle smiled tremulously at Noah. “Have you ever thrown up at a crime scene?”

“More than once.” And he didn’t look the slightest bit bothered by it either.

For a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the room, whispering to each other and sharing secrets. She was aware of his hand covering hers, the heat of his skin warming her. Memories of him holding her were foremost in her mind,and she feared that her hero-worshiping might be getting out of hand.

“Must be his age,” Harris said, shattering the moment. “I hear the older you get, the more sensitive your stomach becomes.”

“I swear,” Noah said, stepping away from the island and taking his warmth with him. “It’s like dealing with my kids. So, you saw the leader of the Demon Brothers Houston Chapter kill a man while three of his gang backed him up. No wonder the ADA salivates every time she sees you. You’re about to hand her one of the biggest cases of her career on a platter.”

“If I survive long enough to do it,” Annabelle said.

“That’s the spirit.” Evan patted her on the shoulder.

“I hate to break up this party,” Violet said. “But the boss wants you downstairs, Noah.”

“Don’t worry,” Harris said. “We’ll look after her. You know, Annabelle, it occurs to me that without a computer, you don’t have access to your 3D modeling software—which means no ability to pose figures for your drawings. I just wanted you to know that I’m willing to step in until you get your new computer. You may not know this, but I used to be a professional model?—”

His brothers groaned loudly, making Annabelle laugh. She glanced over at Noah and found he was checking on her too. He smiled, cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged. She could almost hear his apology for leaving her alone with the triplets.

Annabelle beamed at him and shooed him out of the room. She’d be fine until he returned.

Chapter Twelve

Dinner went well. Everyone, except those on guard duty, sat around her huge dining table, enjoying spaghetti Bolognese and homemade garlic bread. And Annabelle loved every minute of it. She’d wanted to take plates to Abasi and Logan, who were on duty, but Rochelle had insisted they needed to focus and would eat later. So Annabelle had contented herself with fussing over everyone else. It was as though she had family around for dinner, albeit a large, dysfunctional family, still sizing each other up.

It’d been a long time since she’d had a proper family dinner; even then, it’d just been the three of them—her father, her aunt, and her. Dinner parties had expanded after she’d moved in with her aunt, although the table hadn’t been filled with family—it had been filled with an eclectic mix of friends belonging to both. Her aunt had been notorious for adopting people. She readily made friends and loved inviting them over to eat. Meals could be boisterous. Sometimes, there were musicians and artists; other times, politicians and lawyers. You never knew who you’d be eating with when Aunt Rose hosted a dinner.

Annabelle hadn’t realized how much she’d missed those dinners until her apartment was filled with people again:talking, laughing, arguing people. It would be hard when they left and the building reverted to its usual empty state. In the meantime, she planned to make family dinners a regular thing while the team was there. There weren’t many upsides to witnessing a murder, being shot at for testifying, and fearing for your life. But it had brought the Benson Security team into her life, and Annabelle planned to make the most of having them there while it lasted.

Fresh from her shower and dressed in one of the three identical pairs of Wonder Woman pajamas Katrina had bought her, Annabelle walked into her new bedroom. She refused to call it the panic room while sleeping there. Panic wasn’t exactly conducive to sleep.

The door between her room and the guest room stood partially open, and she could see Noah sitting on the edge of the bed. Still fully dressed, he held up his phone, obviously on a video call. He lifted a hand to her in greeting, and she nodded in return. She was a little self-conscious in her new night clothes but grateful that they covered a whole lot more than her usual nightwear. Although Noah had already seen her in that.

Annabelle hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but considering the door was open and he was facing her, it was impossible to avoid.

“I scored two goals!” The excited voice of one of his sons came through the doorway.