Page 49 of Unseen Danger

Each student had received the invitation to attend with a notation they were encouraged to bring their parents. So there was only one invitation postcard per family unit.

The man picked up a chocolate-dipped strawberry and struck a lounging pose with his elbow propped on the countertop. He still didn’t look at D-Chop, but he wasn’t staring at nothing either.

He darted quick glances, without moving his head, at the door first. Checking for Louis?

Then his gaze went near D-Chop, but appeared to pause too far to the left. Watching Darren?

His eyes flicked to Branson. A fast dart.

Branson didn’t look away from the man, letting him see he was noticed. Maybe that would deter him from taking whatever action he might have planned.

The guy turned fully toward the counter again, stuffing the strawberry into his mouth. He walked around a teen boy at the counter and went to stare at some other food options. But Branson didn’t buy it.

The move had allowed the guy to increase the distance between himself and Branson.

His fingers twitched as he watched the man.

D-Chop was sensitive about how his biggest fans were treated. He wouldn’t want Branson to scare anyone who didn’t deserve it.

The man could simply be a disinterested dad who was there for free food and nothing else. Maybe seeing all the security made him uncomfortable.

But Branson’s instincts were rarely wrong. And right now, they were telling him the guy wasn’t there for a social call or to make his daughter happy.

Branson glanced toward Darren.

His dark eyes met Branson’s.

Branson shifted his gaze to the man at the counter, then back to Darren.

The protection specialist gave a tiny nod.

Good. Darren would be ready if Branson’s senses weren’t lying to him and something went down.

He sauntered closer to the refreshments where the guy pretended to peruse the vegetable tray.

But the man’s fingers gripped the edge of the counter. Hard.

He turned around, attempting to lean back against the counter in a relaxed pose.

His eyes gave him away. They aimed at D-Chop this time. And they were full of fury.

The man pushed off the counter and sprinted for D-Chop with a blood-curdling shriek.

Fifteen

Branson lunged, flinging his arms around the man’s waist.

He was half Branson’s size and weight, but desperation or hatred fueled him, rolling off him in waves as he twisted and strained. His arms reached toward D-Chop, fingers stretching and curling as if he wanted to choke the rapper.

“You killed him!” His scream shook the silenced room. “You murdered my boy!”

Branson held the man in place, trying not to injure him if he didn’t have to.

“I’ll kill you! Let me go.” He turned on Branson, his fingers reaching to scratch his face, gouge his eyes.

Branson turned his head away and grabbed one wrist, then the other in a solid one-handed grip. “Sir, you have to calm down.”

“Let me kill him! He killed my boy.” He tried to kick at Branson with his legs.