Page 102 of Unseen Danger
“When I was there…working…an inmate caught me by surprise.” She drew in a shaky breath. “And he jumped me.”
Branson’s fingers tightened on the wheel as Nevaeh continued the story he’d asked to hear but almost didn’t want to now.
“The inmate attacked me. Pretty much went crazy. I couldn’t…” Her voice choked. “I couldn’t do anything but hope I’d be rescued.”
Branson strangled the wheel as if it were the monster’s neck. His imagination filled in details she didn’t give. He braced himself to hear more.
But she stayed silent, turning her head away from him toward the passenger window as they drove through the opulent residential neighborhood.
“I’m sorry, Nevaeh.” The words were inadequate. But he had to say them, had to try to express a fraction of the grief and anger knotting inside his chest.
Resolve hardened his gut as he gritted his teeth. He would never let anything like that happen to her again. Not on his watch.
“I’m okay now.”
But she wasn’t. Not really. She still had PTSD—fears that kept her captive. He’d seen the evidence of that. Especially around him when they’d first met. His throat tightened as he realized the problem. “Am I…like the man who…”
She turned her head toward him, the weight of her dark gaze falling on his face. “No. You’re not.”
A smidgen of relief loosened the tension in his stomach.
“The inmate was big and muscular. So strong.” She glanced down at her hands in her lap, hands that twisted each other.
His gut mimicked the motion. This was stressing her out. Should he change the subject?
“Men who are the same—built the same, I mean—can…make me nervous.”
So that was it. He was a similar size and physique as her attacker. Great. No wonder she’d been hesitant, even downright fearful around him before. Especially when he got too close. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“I know.” She met his gaze as he looked over. “It’s not you. I know you now. You’re nothing like him.”
Thank the Lord she realized that now. A lump lodged in Branson’s throat as her mouth turned up slightly at the corners. He nodded and directed his gaze back to the road.
Raindrops accumulated on the windshield, and he clicked on the wipers.
Another question burned on the tip of his tongue. He had to know. Had to be prepared. “Is he in prison now?”
“He got out seven weeks ago.”
His stomach clenched. Not the answer he’d hoped to hear.
“Do you think he’d come after you again?” His voice was tight as he locked his gaze on her.
She glanced at him. A flicker of fear sparked in her eyes.
He had to check the road briefly, but he quickly met her eyes again, trying to convey what he felt with only a look. That he’d protect her if that monster ever tried anything again. That the guy had better not if he valued his life. That no one could hurt her on Branson’s watch.
The fear in her brown orbs dimmed as they softened. Message received.
He reluctantly broke eye contact to watch the road and surrounding traffic.
“The judge gave him a lifetime restraining order with the condition he’ll go back to prison if he comes near me. He’d have a lot to lose if he tried anything.”
That helped. But it wasn’t enough to slow the rush of protectiveness that pumped through his veins. “Is he the ‘other possibility’ you asked Cora about at the Phoenix K-9 meeting this morning?”
“Yeah. Phoenix or Cora—I’m not sure which—tracked him to L.A., where he’s supposed to be working on a stock car pit crew.”
“Supposed to?”