Page 34 of Unseen Danger
Branson crouched to grab a set of fifty-pound dumbbells off the rack. “I hope they’ll be a deterrent, like you said, and scare off whoever is hounding D-Chop. It won’t look good to any potential investor either if I lose this position.”
“Have you found anyone interested yet?” Andrew’s breathing grew heavier for a few seconds.
“My friend Cooper White is talking to his investor about me.”
“He’s the security specialist who started his own security company in Florida?”
Branson began alternating bicep curls. “Yeah. He started with corporate like I want to do, though he has a lot of private clients now, too. He got going with this investor’s backing.”
“Well, I know you’re eager to leave the celebrity protection racket, so I hope it works out soon.”
“Me, too.” Though a new concern loomed in Branson’s mind. Starting out on a business venture, even with an investor, could be risky. And he wouldn’t make as much income initially. Would it be enough to still cover his dad’s treatments?
He might be stuck with celebrity protection longer than he’d hoped. Which meant more days of slogging along under the growing sense of pointlessness in his daily work. The growing impatience with the shallow world D-Chop and Branson’s previous clients lived in. The deepening disgust with the immorality of their lifestyles and the spiritual darkness that defined their world.
But at the moment, D-Chop’s life, or at least his well-being, could be at risk. And thanks to the heroism of the man on the other end of this phone call, protecting any person in danger had been the goal of Branson’s life since he was twelve years old.
That was the only purpose he needed to fulfill today. Well, that and maybe figuring out how to avoid frightening a certain woman who was somewhere outside right now but much closer in his thoughts.
Nevaeh should not be there.
Nothing wrong with being on the grounds. She was hired to patrol them.
But she wasn’t being paid to stare at a guy in the gym.
It wasn’t her fault. She’d been minding her own business, making rounds with Alvarez. They were supposed to check out the entry points on the house.
She wasn’t the one who’d designed the house with floor-to-ceiling windows as the outer wall of the gym. With the lights on inside and the pre-dawn darkness outside, she couldn’t help but see in.
And see the man working out.
Branson Aaberg appeared to be alone, though his mouth moved like he was talking. She’d figured out after a minute or two that he had a Bluetooth earpiece and was on the phone with someone.
She probably would’ve noticed it sooner if she hadn’t been so mesmerized by the display of muscles and strength more impressive than anything she’d seen before.
“Wow.” Jazz’s familiar voice came from Nevaeh’s right.
Nevaeh looked to see her approach in the darkness with Flash.
Nevaeh really needed to train Al to warn her of friends approaching, too, so she wouldn’t be caught in such compromising situations.
“Some view, huh?” Jazz stopped next to Nevaeh and faced the windows.
“I was just making sure it was only Aaberg in there. Checking for threats.”
Jazz snorted a laugh. “Right. And that’s why you’re still here.”
“I just got here.”
She shoved Nevaeh’s arm and grinned at her. “I saw you from way over there.” She waved a hand at the darkness behind them. “You’ve been here for like five minutes.”
“Whatever. Maybe two, tops.”
“Come on, girl.” Jazz draped her arm across Nevaeh’s shoulders. “Admit the guy’s a hunk. I mean, look at those muscles.”
Nevaeh was looking. And had been for the past however many minutes. She’d thought his T-shirt earlier in the day had shown off his muscles, but that was nothing compared to the loose-fitting tank that left his arms bare.
When she’d first spotted him, he’d been doing curls with weights on a barbell that looked heavier than her whole body, his biceps bulging. Now he was flipping huge tires as if they weighed nothing, his massive muscles rippling in his arms and in his calves beneath his shorts.