Page 57 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“Pity.” He shook his head while indicating a few of the photos she’d framed and hung. “You’ve quite the talent.”

Margaret cleared her throat pointedly.

The DA frowned at her before smiling at Rochelle. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of time. Meetings to attend. I’m sure you understand. I just wanted to come over and thank you personally. But…” He stepped into her personal space and held out a hand. Annabelle took it because it would be rude not to, and he closed his other hand over the top of hers, trapping her. “I want you to think long and hard about moving to a safe house. Last night’s events have made it clear that your security team has a limited ability to protect you here. This building is falling apart now. You can’t possibly be as safe here as you would be with us. And I know you think you can’t leave this building, but there are options we could utilize to minimize the stress on you should you decide to take us up on our offer.”

Her heart raced, and her throat grew tight. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. Could he?

Noah stepped even closer. “You mean drugs.” His words dripped with ice. “You want to sedate her until the trial.”

“I spoke with the best physicians in Houston just before coming here,” the DA said with a cold smile. “They assure me that no harm will come to Annabelle if this is the route we choose to take.” He patted her hand and released it. “I would never suggest an option that endangered your health. Think about it. Talk to your own doctor and see what she thinks.” He gestured around the loft. “While you’re in a safe place, we could get this building back up to scratch for your return. Sometimes, Annabelle, the best options are the simplest.”

With a parting nod, he strode toward the door, the two police officers falling in behind him. Rochelle and Rodrigo accompanied them. As she watched them go, Annabelle leaned into Noah, letting him take some of her weight.

“Sedate me?” she whispered. “He wants to keep me asleep until I can testify?”

It was too terrifying to contemplate.

Noah made a low growling sound before speaking. “If that’s what you choose to do, we’ll still protect you.”

She was already shaking her head. “I’d never. No. I couldn’t. You don’t think?—”

“No. I don’t think you should let them knock you out and keep you sedated until the trial starts. It’s barbaric. Plus, I don’t trust anybody in the DA’s office to keep you safe. It’s still your decision, though, Bella.”

“No.” She shuddered. “Just no.”

The ADA walked over to Annabelle, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I honestly didn’t know he was going to suggest that. If he’d made his intentions known, I would have protested beforehand.”

“It’s okay,” Annabelle said, even though it wasn’t. She cleared her throat. “He can’t force me to…” She couldn’t even say the words.

“No.” The ADA frowned. “No. He can’t. Now, let’s go over your testimony again.” She crossed to the dining table and set her briefcase on it.

“I’ll make coffee.” Noah headed for the kitchen.

The rest of the team kept to the shadows, watching intently, none of them happy with what they’d just heard.

Chapter Nineteen

Annabelle felt strangely numb when she eventually gained access to the first floor of her building and saw the extent of the damage for herself. She knew that one day, when all of this was over and she’d had time to process what happened, she’d grieve the loss of her aunt’s shop. But for the moment, she couldn’t think about that—or the fire itself… or the gang trying to kill her… or the hazy memory of people shooting up her panic room…

Nope.

She couldn’t think about any of that.

Otherwise, she’d end up rocking back and forth in a corner, muttering about nothing being real. Because crazy stuff like this didn’t happen to a housebound comic book artist. Instead, she’d pushed all her panicked thoughts and hysterical feelings into the vault at the back of her mind, which she liked to think of as a Gringotts vault from Harry Potter. She visualized it deep in the ground, sealed by magic and protected by a ferocious dragon. In other words, those thoughts weren’t getting out anytime soon.

“I’m sorry about your aunt’s shop.” Noah came to stand beside her.

“There wasn’t anything valuable in there anyway.”

Except for memories.

“Still.” He bumped against her, doing that weird, friendly nudge thing he liked to do. “It was a reminder of her, and I’m sorry. She named it after you, didn’t she?”

Annabelle tore her eyes from the blackened mess to glance up at Noah. “She opened the shop not long after I was born. This was a family building, passed down through the generations, and she liked that its location put her smack in the middle of the arty zone. I suspect she was a bohemian at heart.” She leaned over to retrieve part of a cheap, burn-damaged toy. “One with absolutely no taste or creative ability. She would’ve loved to have been a great artist, but she wielded a paintbrush like it was a two-by-four and she didn’t have thumbs. Plus, she couldn’t resist adding sparkles to everything she touched. Glitter was her friend. Dad said she inherited her drive for business from their father but lacked the direction or sense needed to take it anywhere. I honestly believe that if there hadn’t been family money behind her, she’d have ended up a bag lady.” She smiled sadly. “A very sparkly bag lady.”

“She sounds like my kind of people,” Noah said, smiling.

Annabelle’s heart ached at the memories of her aunt. “Collecting other people’s junk and selling it was as arty as she could get. Plus, she loved going to garage sales. According to Dad, her shop started out as an art gallery, but her bad taste meant most of the works she’d acquired were unsellable. So she repriced everything and started collecting what she called ‘quirky castoffs’ to supplement the store. She told me she called it Bella’s Antiques to sound classy.” She grinned. “There was nothing even remotely antique about the things she brought home from her buying trips.”