“Too light, Aaberg. Pin her down.” Phoenix’s command shot a jolt of concern by way of Nevaeh’s coronary heart.

Branson lowered his weight onto her hips and bent his higher physique down, so shut.

This was observe. Phoenix knew this was what Nevaeh wanted. She knew it will set off Nevaeh, that the set off needed to be there to imitate the real-life situation.

Nevaeh compelled the reminders into her thoughts. However they weren’t loud sufficient to listen to over the speeding sound in her ears. The panic flooded her system.

Walter’s face leaned shut. The sneer. His breath scorching as he pinned her down.

His weight crushed her.

She couldn’t transfer. Couldn’t combat. Couldn’t save herself as he pummeled her practically to dying.

“Nevaeh.”

Unusual. He hadn’t stated her identify earlier than.

“Nevaeh.”

A distinct voice. She knew that voice. The sweetness of it.

“Nevaeh, it’s me.” Air whispered towards her ear. “It’s Branson.”

Her imaginative and prescient cleared as he lifted his head, his face showing above hers. She knew these options, these comfortable eyes.

The panic receded, her chest rising and falling quickly with the short breaths that might take longer to calm.

He smiled the gentlest of smiles. It was Branson.

She was protected.

Thirty-One

“Are you able to see okay?” Branson glanced down at Nevaeh, so shut her hair brushed towards his shoulder.

“Yeah, I believe so.”

“Wouldn’t it assist if I moved my arm?” He lifted his left arm and draped it behind her on the couch as a substitute.

She scooted even nearer, her leg touching his.

Warmth shot from the purpose of contact by way of his complete physique. Straightforward, boy. He wasn’t making an attempt to flirt together with her. Solely making an attempt to make sure she may see and be seen by the digicam of his laptop computer laptop for the interview with their subsequent suspect.

She tilted her head up to take a look at him, her stunning face solely inches away. And she or he smiled. “Yeah, that’s masses higher.” The best way her gaze caressed his face lit the fireplace in his chest he’d simply tamped down.

A beep from his laptop got here simply in time to save lots of him from doing one thing silly. Like kissing the lady.

He pulled his arm from behind her as he leaned ahead to faucet acceptance for the brand new celebration to hitch their assembly.

One other digicam view popped up on the display. Larry LeSalle. D-Chop’s ex-manager tried a smile that was about as profitable as a moist match. “Hi there.”

“Hi there, Mr. LeSalle. I’m Branson Aaberg right here with Nevaeh Williams, one other of D-Chop’s safety specialists. Thanks for agreeing to fulfill with us at the moment.”

“Your e-mail was very persuasive.”

Branson hid a smile. “Glad to listen to it.” He’d recommended in his e-mail to LeSalle that D-Chop wasn’t glad along with his present supervisor and is perhaps in search of a alternative quickly. All utterly true, since D-Chop was just about by no means proud of any of the three managers he’d had since Branson had labored for the rapper.

“Now I do know you’ve stated you all the time had D-Chop’s greatest pursuits at coronary heart. However would you thoughts sharing what led him to dismiss you as his supervisor?”

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