Page 109 of Unseen Danger
“Too gentle, Aaberg. Pin her down.” Phoenix’s command shot a jolt of fear through Nevaeh’s heart.
Branson lowered his weight onto her hips and bent his upper body down, so close.
This was practice. Phoenix knew this was what Nevaeh needed. She knew it would trigger Nevaeh, that the trigger had to be there to mimic the real-life scenario.
Nevaeh forced the reminders into her mind. But they weren’t loud enough to hear over the rushing sound in her ears. The panic flooded her system.
Walter’s face leaned close. The sneer. His breath hot as he pinned her down.
His weight crushed her.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight. Couldn’t save herself as he pummeled her nearly to death.
“Nevaeh.”
Strange. He hadn’t said her name before.
“Nevaeh.”
A different voice. She knew that voice. The sweetness of it.
“Nevaeh, it’s me.” Air whispered against her ear. “It’s Branson.”
Her vision cleared as he lifted his head, his face appearing above hers. She knew those features, those soft eyes.
The panic receded, her chest rising and falling rapidly with the quick breaths that would take longer to calm.
He smiled the gentlest of smiles. It was Branson.
She was safe.
Thirty-One
“Can you see okay?” Branson glanced down at Nevaeh, so close her hair brushed against his shoulder.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Would it help if I moved my arm?” He lifted his left arm and draped it behind her on the sofa instead.
She scooted even closer, her leg touching his.
Heat shot from the point of contact through his whole body. Easy, boy. He wasn’t trying to flirt with her. Only trying to be sure she could see and be seen by the camera of his laptop computer for the interview with their next suspect.
She tilted her head up to look at him, her beautiful face only inches away. And she smiled. “Yeah, that’s loads better.” The way her gaze caressed his face lit the fire in his chest he’d just tamped down.
A beep from his computer came just in time to save him from doing something stupid. Like kissing the woman.
He pulled his arm from behind her as he leaned forward to tap acceptance for the new party to join their meeting.
Another camera view popped up on the screen. Larry LeSalle. D-Chop’s ex-manager attempted a smile that was about as successful as a wet match. “Hello.”
“Hello, Mr. LeSalle. I’m Branson Aaberg here with Nevaeh Williams, another of D-Chop’s security specialists. Thanks for agreeing to meet with us today.”
“Your email was very persuasive.”
Branson hid a smile. “Glad to hear it.” He’d suggested in his email to LeSalle that D-Chop wasn’t happy with his current manager and might be looking for a replacement soon. All completely true, since D-Chop was pretty much never happy with any of the three managers he’d had since Branson had worked for the rapper.
“Now I know you’ve said you always had D-Chop’s best interests at heart. But would you mind sharing what led him to dismiss you as his manager?”