Page 105 of Unseen Danger

Twenty-Nine

“Looks like we’re already back at the pool, Al.” Nevaeh smiled at how quickly she was completing each patrol round tonight. It wasn’t a race, but she couldn’t tell that to her feet. Seemed like she was walking on air—practically bouncing on air tonight.

She glanced at D-Chop’s mansion as she unlatched the gate and walked through to the patio with Alvarez. Branson was in there somewhere.

The thought warmed her torso, warding off the chill of the crisp wind.

Considering it was three thirty a.m., he should be sleeping now. But somehow she still felt different just knowing he was there. Safer. That was it—protected and safe.

That’s how she’d felt with him in his pickup when they’d driven to and from Jill’s place. The close quarters should’ve scared her. Terrified her. But she’d had to fight the urge to shift closer to him, especially when he’d said he wanted to help her. Well, once she’d gotten past the initial surge of panic at the thought.

His urgent tone as he’d talked about fear and how to beat it had slowly smothered the panic. He cared. It was obvious in every word he’d said and the concern in his eyes when he’d looked at her. He wanted to help her, not harm her.

She’d realized something on that drive. She trusted Branson Aaberg. Trusted him with her life. Trusted him not to hurt her, which was an even bigger step.

Considering Branson was the only man Phoenix had ever invited to a PK-9 meeting at headquarters to consult, Nevaeh obviously wasn’t wrong to trust him. Phoenix had agreed to let Branson train with them tomorrow, too.

A tingle of nerves fluttered in her belly as she angled away from the pool and walked toward the alcove where tables and chairs were clustered. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t completely chill about the idea yet. Or were these flutters from excitement instead of fear?

Maybe something he’d said in his talk about fear had already helped. Because she’d never felt so far from her PTSD, so far from having an episode, so free from her fear as she did right now.

What would it be like to always feel like this? To live like this? Confident and unafraid.

Would having Branson in her life make this her new normal? He’d proven he could keep her safe and—

Her gaze caught on something white on a dark brown table.

Looked like the maid had missed something.

Nevaeh veered that way. If it wasn’t anything gross, she could pick it up and throw it in the trash.

The shadows cast on the table shifted as she moved closer, the angle of her viewpoint changing.

Was that—

A black handle stuck into the air, attached to a blade. A butcher’s knife?

Alvarez pulled to keep moving on patrol. “Hang on, Al.” The K-9 stopped at the end of the leash.

She stood by the table and stared at the knife. The heavy blade stabbed into the wooden tabletop.

The white object beside it appeared to be a piece of paper. She picked up the folded half page and opened it.

Her mouth dried as her gaze fell on typed text.

You owe me. I’ll kill you or your kids if you don’t pay up. You pick who dies. I’ll send you a bill soon.

Nevaeh knocked on Branson’s bedroom door. Not far down the hallway from D-Chop’s suite, she tried to avoid being loud enough to wake the rapper, too.

Here was hoping Branson was a light sleeper.

Shuffling sounds came from behind the door.

She lowered her fist and took a step back.

The door swung open.

Whoa.