Perhaps the individual they’d been ready for had arrived?

She crouched and inched towards the closest window.

One other noise. A shout?

A pop cracked the air. No mistaking that sound.

One other gunshot exploded.

She peered out the underside of the window.

Couldn’t see something.

Pictures meant battle. An enemy to the abductors.

The PK-9 workforce? Or a double cross by whoever employed the thugs?

She wanted to be prepared in case her second guess was the appropriate one.

She backed into the nook behind the place the door would swing in when opened.

What if the larger man got here in first? Her throat began to shut. She wanted Alvarez right here. He might take the person down for her.

She wanted somebody. Anybody however her. Alone. In opposition to a person like Walter.

His face broke by means of her defenses, loomed in entrance of her with that twisted grin. He—

“Nevaeh!” The deep voice shattered the reminiscence. “Nevaeh!”

Was that—

The door crashed in, halting the surge of hope that shot by means of her physique.

The person who should’ve kicked it in stood within the doorway, filling it along with his enormous dimension, a mountain of muscle and energy.

Branson.

Nevaeh got here out of nowhere, flying towards him. She landed in opposition to Branson’s chest, exhausting sufficient he needed to brace himself to maintain from stepping backward. However he’d by no means felt something so good in his life.

He wrapped his arms round her, forcing himself to be light when what he actually needed to do was squeeze her so tight, she might by no means be taken from him once more.

Her physique trembled.

“Nevaeh, are you all proper? Did they damage you?”

Her hair tickled his chin as she moved her head in opposition to his chest, shaking it in denial.

“They didn’t damage you?” His coronary heart pounded in opposition to his ribs as he waited.

“No.” Her voice was weaker than regular, however the reply calmed his pulse. For a second. Till he turned conscious of how she felt pressed in opposition to him, becoming him like a glove.

His coronary heart fee sped for a special cause as warmth traveled by means of him all the best way right down to his toes.

What if he’d misplaced the possibility to carry her like this? What if he’d misplaced her?

One other query adopted on the heels of the primary instinctive ones. When had holding her turn out to be necessary, one thing he needed?

The reply rushed into his thoughts simply as quick, as unexpectedly—when there was an opportunity he would possibly by no means see her once more.

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