Page 6 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“No. No, no, no.” Annabelle shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t. You can’t make me. I can’t leave. I won’t go. You can’t take me from my home. You have to leave?—”

“Nobody’s taking you anywhere,” Noah said evenly. “Violet’s just throwing out suggestions.”

She shook her head again, making herself dizzy. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“No,” the angry Scottish woman said. “It wasn’t.”

“Violet,” Noah snapped. “You aren’t helping. Once we get Annabelle out of this room, we can discuss our options.”

“Discuss options? To hell with that. Knock her out and throw her over your shoulder. We need to get out of here.”

Annabelle sucked in a breath, preparing to scream.

Noah held up a hand, staring at her earnestly as he spoke quickly. “I’m hanging up, Violet. I need five minutes to talk to Annabelle.” He cut the call and gave her a rueful smile. “I already apologized for her. There’s no excusing or explaining that woman, but believe me when I say no one will knock you out or take you from here against your will.”

She stared into his dark eyes for what felt like an eternity. “Promise?”

“I swear.” His words were a solemn vow, and even though she shouldn’t believe the stranger, she began to feel she did.

“Here.” Noah gestured with the phone before tossing it to her again. “Call the assistant DA.” He repeated his password once she’d caught it.

Her hands shaking, it took several attempts to enter the password and more stabbing at the screen to get the DA’s number. She put the phone on speaker while it rang.

“District attorney’s office,” a female voice said. “How may I help you?”

“Please put me through to Assistant District Attorney Grant,” Annabelle said.

“I’m sorry, she’s busy at the moment. Can I take a message?”

“Tell her it’s Annabelle Simmons, and it’s urgent.” She was aware her words were slurred and hesitant, but she couldn’t doanything to change that. The fog in her head wouldn’t allow clarity.

“Oh,” the woman exclaimed. “One second.”

The phone fell silent, and then the crisp, no-nonsense voice of Margaret Grant came on the line. “Annabelle, are you safe?”

Relief at hearing Ms. Grant’s voice made Annabelle weak at the knees. She grasped hold of the desk beside her. “Did you send someone called Noah Merchant to get me?”

“Yes, he’s from Benson Security. Is he with you? Please tell me you aren’t still in your house. You need to get out of there. Listen to me carefully, Annabelle. We have a leak. You aren’t safe, and you need to do whatever Mr. Merchant tells you. You can trust him.”

To his credit, Noah didn’t look smug.

“I can’t leave my house,” Annabelle whispered, fighting to suppress her shame. “You know I can’t.”

“What I know,” Ms. Grant said, “is that your life is in danger, and you need to let Benson Security protect you. There is no other option here, Annabelle. Do you understand me?”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“You don’t have a choice.” The assistant DA was forceful. “I have sympathy for your condition, but your life is in danger here. You have to let the Benson Security team take you to a safe house. Just go with them. They’ll take care of you.”

Just go?

Annabelle almost laughed. If it were that easy, she’d have left her apartment long ago. She’d have joined clubs. Experienced dates in restaurants, instead of her living room. Had a family. Lived.

“Annabelle,” the assistant DA snapped. “Are you there?”

“May I?” Noah asked from right in front of her.

He’d moved across the room, and she hadn’t even noticed.Way to stay safe, Bella.