Page 72 of Unseen Danger

Another pause.

Branson would pick up his weights again, but he didn’t want to risk surprise from another left-field question.

“Have you talked to your dad about it?”

Good thing he hadn’t been in the middle of a heavy press for that one. “No. You know how he is. He doesn’t understand me wanting to do this kind of work at all.”

“I get that. Do you remember that when you were younger, you wanted to be a pastor like your dad?”

“Of course.” His parents had reminded him of that incessantly when he changed his mind. Even though they knew why.

The day the shooter came to their church had changed everything, for more people than Branson.

A twelve-year-old didn’t expect to see a gun pointed at his dad. Didn’t expect to see his dad try to persuade the shooter not to hurt anyone. Didn’t expect to see the shooter start to pull the trigger but be gunned down instead.

The moment had happened within seconds, but his memory recalled it in slow motion, right through to the shooter falling to the floor and to the moment Branson saw Andrew Allen standing beyond, his gun aimed—smoking, victorious.

Andrew had saved over one hundred lives that day. Including Branson’s family and Branson himself.

After that day, how could he choose anything other than to try to be the hero Andrew Allen was? Branson’s path became so clear. He wanted to be a man who saved lives and protected people from violence.

And Andrew had been kind enough to take Branson under his wing, guiding him in the training and education he’d need to excel in the Navy SEALs, as Andrew had. Branson had decided to specialize in private security after the SEALs rather than following Andrew’s path into law enforcement, wanting to avoid the politics and paperwork involved in the latter.

But every decision Branson had made led him to this point, to being a highly trained security specialist with the skills to protect others and save lives. He’d been able to do just that several times in the military and when protecting celebrities.

But it gave him the most satisfaction to know he’d be able to protect his family if needed or anyone else even if an unexpected scenario occurred. He was always ready. Just like Andrew.

“You still there?”

“Yeah.” Branson cleared his throat. “Sorry. Just got me thinking.”

“Good. Because I have one more question for you.”

Branson’s abs tightened as he stood. “Shoot.”

“Have you asked God what He wants you to do?”

The question punched into his gut as if his mentor had delivered it with a fist. It shouldn’t have. It should be easy to answer.

But the only answer Branson found as he searched his mind, his memories, was one even he couldn’t believe. It was no.

Twenty-Two

Weird feeling to enter a PK-9 meeting at headquarters with the boss herself.

Nevaeh and Alvarez followed Phoenix and Dag through the hallway at the PK-9 Agency, headed for the breakroom.

Phoenix and her K-9 didn’t look any worse for wear after spending the rest of the night patrolling outside Nevaeh’s house while she tried to sleep. The boss still stood straight and tall, her walk alert and strong, mimicked by the dog at her side.

Voices drifted out of the breakroom as they approached, but they stopped as soon as Phoenix turned through the open doorway.

So this is what it felt like to be Phoenix. Kind of.

They all adored their boss, but she did have a certain presence that tended to quiet whatever jokes they were in the middle of when she arrived. Once she was there, though, they all relaxed into their banter again, kind of like kids around their mother.

“Hey, Phoenix.”

“Morning, Nevaeh.”