Page 21 of Unseen Danger
Jazz gave her a look, along with a tap on her hip holster, that said she’d cover Nevaeh.
That was all she needed to know. Nevaeh quickly went to the side opposite Aaberg and kneeled on the driveway beside the young guy dressed in a tan uniform with a badge clipped to his chest pocket. The gate security guard.
The door to the small guardhouse hung open behind Aaberg.
“I think I feel a pulse.” Aaberg lifted his head. Hope and uncertainty filled the blue eyes that found her face.
She hadn’t noticed their color before. A very nice, unexpectedly gentle shade like the blue that would decorate a baby boy’s room.
She yanked her gaze away and pressed her fingers to the guard's neck. “Yes. Pretty strong pulse. Call 911. He’ll need an ambulance.”
Aaberg nodded and pulled a phone from his pocket as he stood and walked a few feet away.
Nevaeh shifted her hands to the back of the guard’s neck and felt her way up his skull.
Her fingers reached something sticky. Blood. A gash and swelling.
The guard groaned and shifted his head.
“It’s okay.” She checked his badge for a name. “James, it’s okay. I’m Nevaeh. And your boss is here. Branson.” Or did he know him as Aaberg? It seemed the guy liked to be pretty formal, given how he’d introduced her and Jazz as Ms. Williams and Ms. Lamont.
The guard’s eyes slowly opened. He started to lift his head, but a moan pushed through his lips.
Nevaeh braced her hands behind his head as he lowered it back down the quarter inch he’d managed to heft it. “Try not to move much, okay? We’ve called for an ambulance.”
Denim-clad legs moved into view. She slid her gaze up, way up, to take in the giant of a man that was Branson Aaberg. She’d noticed when they’d arrived that he wasn’t dressed at all like he had been last night.
The dark and baggy hip-hop outfit had been replaced by cowboy cut jeans, wide belt, and a tucked-in blue T-shirt that didn’t do much to hide his massive muscles. She’d guess D-Chop wanted his bodyguards to fit in with the rapper’s style in public appearances. But she had to admit Aaberg’s chosen look made the most of his physique.
She could almost understand why Jazz had been mooning over him. He did have a certain appeal if a girl was into huge strongmen. Which Nevaeh definitely was not.
“They’re on the way.” Aaberg’s deep rumble seemed to fall from the heavens, sunlight backlighting his face so she couldn’t see his features, even with her head tilted far back.
She hid a shiver by pressing her fingers to the guard’s pulse again.
His breathing was slightly labored.
“Head hurt?”
The young guy, probably no more than twenty-one, grimaced. “Yeah.”
“Help will be here soon.”
“Hang in there, buddy.” Aaberg lowered his large form on the other side of James. “Can you tell us what happened?”
This close to the bodyguard, his deep tones seemed to vibrate right through her. Nevaeh stood, the increase in distance and height instantly allowing her to breathe easier.
“I think…” James squinted, maybe trying to remember or just avoid the sunlight. “I remember a man pulled up in a car. Wanted to see D-Chop.”
“Did you know him?”
“I don’t think so. I can’t say for sure.”
Nevaeh shot Aaberg a glance, her nerves tensing. Was he the type of boss to get irritated with an employee who messed up?
His features stayed smooth, except for the dark blond eyebrows that were already dipped. “It’s okay. Just relax. The memory will come back.”
Surprise soothed some of Nevaeh’s frayed nerves. Wouldn’t have guessed Aaberg would be that patient and…nice.