Page 69 of Unseen Danger
He had to admit he’d wondered if Nevaeh’s boss knew about her PTSD. Jazz’s question suggested she did not. Couldn’t that be a problem in this line of work? He thought a second before venturing a question he hoped was tactful. “Is she okay to do security work with her PTSD? I wouldn’t want her or anyone else to be in danger because of something she can’t help.”
Jazz’s mouth set a bit firmer. “Nevaeh is tough. Only certain things trigger her PTSD. She’s fearless with everything else.” She glanced down at the Belgian Malinois panting at her side, then brought her gaze back to Branson’s face. “There’s no one I’d rather have watching my back.” A flash sparked in her green eyes. “And I watch her back, too.”
Branson inwardly squirmed. Maybe he’d gone too far, but he had to know Nevaeh and everyone she’d impact in this work were safe. He kept eye contact with Jazz.
“She’s starting to trust you.”
A jolt shot through his ribs at the statement. Nevaeh trusted him?
“She doesn’t do that easily.” The redhead took a step closer to him, her tall height meaning she didn’t have to tilt her head up as far to see him as most women. “If you hurt her in any way, I may have to use you for target practice.”
Movement at her hip drew his gaze to where she tapped the hilt of her sheathed knife.
The threat was clearly meant to protect her friend. And as such, he didn’t doubt Jazz would act on it if needed. “Good to know she has someone to protect her. I respect that. But I’m not a threat.”
“I don’t know about that.” She scanned his face. “You like her, don’t you?”
He squelched a surprised grunt. Hadn’t expected that one. He slid his hand down the back of his neck as a goofy smile slipped onto his face before he could stop it.
“Thought so.” Jazz moved her fingers away from her weapon, and the expression in her eyes lightened. “I approve of you so far.” She gave him a nod. “Anyone who looks like you but can make Nevaeh feel safe has my vote.”
Not sure what that meant, but it sounded good. “Thanks?” Should he add he couldn’t pursue a relationship with Nevaeh until he knew where she stood with God? Maybe he should ask Jazz about that.
No, that was a conversation to have with Nevaeh. But he didn’t think they were there yet. Given what he’d seen last night, he’d have to go slow with her. Would she be more comfortable around him now?
From what Jazz just said, he gathered there must be something about his appearance that was a trigger for her PTSD. Which explained her nervous behavior around him before. She’d been getting better. But after the episode last night, would she feel more afraid or awkward around him?
He hoped it would have the opposite effect. That she would trust him more now, like Jazz said. That she would know he’d never hurt her. That he’d keep her safe.
Protective instincts stronger than they had a right to be fired his chest as he remembered her tears, the vulnerability of the strong woman. What had happened to her to cause such fear?
Part of him didn’t want to know. But another part did, so he could find the person and make him pay. He reigned in the kneejerk instinct. As a Christian, he would leave any vengeance to God. But he would do everything in his power to shield Nevaeh from having anything bad happen to her again.
The sense that protecting her was his duty—what God intended for him—stayed with him after Jazz left for patrol, and Branson went to bed. As he lay down, Princess snuggling into his chest, the thought that grew more intense in his mind with every moment coiled his muscles.
Nevaeh needed protection. Like the instinct that warned him the bitter father had been going to attack D-Chop, somehow, he knew—Nevaeh was in danger.
Nevaeh was in trouble. If she didn’t get to sleep soon, she wouldn’t function well tomorrow. She’d be more likely to have issues with…everything. Couldn’t exactly risk a mental crisis in front of D-Chop’s kids when she was supposed to protect them.
She blew out a breath and punched the pillow under her head.
Cannenta shifted, the pressure of her body against Nevaeh’s back a grounding comfort.
The switch from the overnight shift to daytime was always a challenge for Nevaeh’s inner clock. Though that wasn’t the only problem tonight.
She was supposed to meet Phoenix for training first thing in the morning. Should she tell the boss about her PTSD episode last night?
Nevaeh caught her lower lip between her teeth as she stared at the dark wall beyond her bed. Phoenix was patient and understanding, but that only went so far. If she knew Nevaeh had lost it on the job…
But it was the first time that had happened while working for PK-9. She’d had flashbacks and less intense episodes, like at the PowerSource Center. But this all-out episode, where she’d completely lost all awareness of reality, had never happened when she was on the clock for PK-9. She should be allowed one mistake, shouldn’t she?
It wouldn’t happen again. She was getting better, thanks to working with Phoenix again. Her confidence was coming back, her courage growing.
She stiffened her jaw. She wouldn’t let it happen on the job again.
The memory of ending up on the ground, a weak blob of mush at the estate she was supposed to be guarding stuck in her craw. And Branson had found her like that.
Embarrassment should’ve flooded her at the thought.