CHAPTER 19
Jaxon
I descended the stairs, a wave of relief washing over me as I realized Anna was already outside working.
The awkwardness from the night before still clung to me like a second skin, and I wasn't quite ready to face her yet.
Conflicting feelings swirled in my mind.
A tangled mess I knew I needed time to sort out.
I had to ignore her for now and work through this on my own.
As I stepped into the kitchen, the cool tile floor greeted me, along with Chester's lazy tail wag. I reached down, patting the dog's head affectionately before sliding open the patio door, leaving it slightly ajar so he could come and go as he pleased throughout the day.
My gaze drifted outside, catching sight of Anna working with a horse in the distant paddock. Her infectious energy radiated even from afar, and I felt a twinge of gratitude that she seemed unaffected by my sudden withdrawal. She seemed fine. Everything was fine.
Grabbing my keys, I headed for my Jeep, my mind shifting to the task at hand: checking on Jared.
A sense of unease settled in my stomach as I anticipated dealing with my brother's unpredictable attitude.
It always put me on edge, but I knew it was necessary to keep a close eye on him, to prevent any trouble from spilling over into my own life.
As the Jeep bumped along the gravel road, I tried to focus on the immediate issues, like Jared's inability to find stable work or housing, instead of dwelling on the inner turmoil I felt about Anna.
The guilt that had been gnawing at me since the previous night threatened to surface, but I shoved it down, choosing instead to distract myself with the tasks ahead.
One problem at a time, Mercer.
Pulling into the driveway, I parked and stepped out. Usually, I'd find Jared sprawled on the couch with the television blaring, but today was different. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke drifted through the air, leading me around the corner.
There, leaning against the deck railing, stood Jared, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His face was etched with a sullen, almost defiant expression, and I braced myself for the confrontation I knew was coming.
"You're smoking outside, huh?" I said, trying to keep my voice even.
"Yeah, don't want to stink up your precious cabin," Jared replied, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"Good. Maybe you should take a walk while you're at it," I said, nodding toward the woods. "Might be nice to get some fresh air and clear your head."
"Why? You can't stand having me around or something?" Jared shot back, his eyes narrowing.
I clenched my jaw, fighting to keep my anger in check. "I'm just suggesting it might do you some good. You need to start figuring out what you're going to do. I can't keep playing babysitter."
Jared took a long drag from his cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke, deliberately in my direction. "You don't have to babysit me. I'm not a kid," he snapped. "Besides, you don't even want me here. It's not like you didn't make that clear when you threw me out before."
Here we go again.
"I kicked you out because you were trouble, Jared. I don't need any of that again. Just—figure your life out. Get a job, find a place to stay. Something. I can't do it for you."
Jared dropped the cigarette to the deck and crushed it with his boot. "Whatever," he muttered, turning to walk away. He didn't look back as he headed into the woods, leaving me standing on the deck, frustration simmering in my veins. I thought, good riddance.
Inside, the cabin was a disaster. Empty beer cans, discarded wrappers, and various bits of junk littered the space. I sighed, taking a moment to let the anger subside before tackling the mess.
I moved methodically, using the cleaning process to distract myself from the building tension.
The kitchen was even worse, with dishes piled high in the sink and crumbs scattered across the counter.
I took my time, restoring order to the chaos.
I felt a small comfort in being able to control this, at least.
With the downstairs back to a semblance of normalcy, I climbed the stairs to my bedroom. Each step echoed in the quiet cabin, and a sense of unease crept up my spine. It wasn't anything specific, just a gut feeling that something wasn't right.
I paused at the door, hand on the handle, before stepping inside.
At first glance, the room seemed normal.
The bed was made, clothes were neatly folded on the chair by the window, and the blinds were half-open, letting in the afternoon light.
But as I walked toward my desk, I noticed the papers I'd left there were tilted slightly, not in the neat stack I usually kept them in.
What the—
Frowning, I stepped closer, straightening the papers and noticing a small smudge on the surface, as if someone had brushed against them with dirty fingers.
Next, I glanced at my nightstand. The drawer was open a crack. Just enough to suggest someone had been looking inside but hadn't bothered to close it properly. I pulled it open. Everything inside appeared as it should, but the edge of the drawer was smudged with a faint line of dust.
My pulse quickened. It could've been nothing, just me rushing around to pack my bags, but my instincts told me otherwise. He's been in here. That son of a bitch has been going through my things.
I couldn't confront Jared without proof. Instead, I decided to set a trap to confirm my suspicions.
I started with the nightstand. I placed a small slip of paper between the drawer and the frame, positioned so that if someone opened it, the paper would fall to the floor. Subtle enough that Jared might not notice.
Next, I went to the closet and set a shoe just inside the door at a precise angle, toe pointed toward the corner of the room. If someone opened the door, the shoe would shift—clear evidence.
Finally, I returned to the desk. I took a pencil and laid it diagonally across the stack of papers, the eraser angled toward the corner.
Simple. Effective.
With the traps set, I stepped back and took a breath. I hoped I was wrong, that Jared hadn't been snooping. But if I was right, I needed to know before taking action. The thought of him rifling through my things made me uneasy, but it also strengthened my resolve.
I was just finishing my checks when I heard the front door open, then slam shut. The sound echoed through the cabin, followed by the heavy thud of boots on the floorboards.
Jared's back.
My steps were cautious but steady as I descended the stairs, my mind already weighed down by the conversation ahead. I wanted to stay calm, to avoid escalating the tension already thick in the air.
At the bottom step, I saw Jared sprawled out on the couch, head lolled back, eyes half-closed. His posture was unusually relaxed.
Too relaxed.
A prickle of unease crept down my spine.
"Hey," I said, stepping into the room. "Can we talk?"
He gave a sluggish flutter of his eyes and slowly turned his head to face me.
"What about?" he mumbled, his voice dragging like molasses.
I frowned. Something was off. Jared's usual volatility had been replaced by a strange calm, like he was in a daze. I wondered if he was high. The thought crossed my mind, though I couldn't imagine where he'd gotten anything.
Keeping my tone even, I continued. "I was thinking I could take you into town the day after tomorrow. You know, to look for work or maybe find a place to stay. There's a motel you could stay at while you're figuring things out."
I watched closely for a reaction.
Jared stretched lazily, letting out a loud yawn. "Sure, whatever," he said, his indifference thick in the air.
My eyes narrowed, suspicion gnawing at me. "You seem pretty relaxed. Everything okay?"
He shrugged, eyes still unfocused. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a smoke and a walk. No big deal."
Bullshit.
I wasn't buying it. The sluggish movements, the heavy-lidded eyes, the slow responses, it all pointed to something being seriously wrong. I couldn't accuse him without proof, but frustration simmered beneath the surface. I realized that if Jared was using, it could drag us both down.
"You gonna spot me some cash for the motel?" he asked casually. "I mean, you got plenty, right?"
I paused, feigning ignorance. "What are you talking about?"
A lazy grin crept across his face. His eyes still didn't quite meet mine.
"Come on, man. I know you've got a lot of money. Our parents left you a ton, didn't they? And there's that other money too. From when Nikki was murdered."
My stomach twisted, a cold dread settling in my gut.
How the fuck does he know about that?
No one was supposed to know about the inheritance. Not from our parents, and definitely not about Nikki's life insurance. That was a painful chapter I'd tried to leave buried. Nikki's death had shattered me.
Not even Connor knew about my finances. I'd kept that secret close for a reason. And now Jared spoke as if he knew everything.
"You're way off, Jared," I said, forcing calm into my voice. "I don't know where you're getting that from, but I'm not sitting on some big pile of cash. You need to focus on getting a job or a place to stay, not on my bank account."
But Jared's grin didn't fade. He shrugged, staring up at the ceiling. "Sure, man. Whatever you say. Just figured you'd be generous, you know? Brothers and all that."
I worked to keep my composure, to not let the fear show in my eyes. If he saw it, it'd only confirm what he already suspected. I thought, I need to get out now before I give anything away.
"Yeah, brothers," I echoed, keeping my tone casual. "I'll be back later."
I grabbed my keys and walked out without looking back.
As soon as I stepped outside, I drew a deep breath, trying to calm my racing pulse.
I couldn't believe what Jared had just revealed.
It was bad enough I suspected him of snooping, but the fact that he knew about the inheritance, and Nikki's insurance, was worse.
As I drove back to Connor's, my thoughts spiraled. The inheritance had originally been meant for both of us, but after Jared's arrest and everything that followed, our parents changed their will. Everything went to me.
We kept it quiet. Partly to avoid fueling Jared's resentment, and partly because I didn't want anyone knowing what I was sitting on.
When they passed, I inherited it all. And when I sold their assets, I gained even more.
Nikki's situation had been different.
We were engaged when she died. With her parents gone and no remaining family, she'd named me the sole beneficiary of her life insurance. It was a sizable amount. Enough to keep me from re-enlisting in the Marines, to live comfortably without needing a steady job.
That's how I ended up at Connor's ranch, spending my days helping out without worrying about a paycheck. A quiet life. A life she'd unknowingly given me.
But Jared's revelation had thrown a wrench in everything. If he knew about the money, what else did he know? My grip tightened around the steering wheel. I knew I'd have to be extra careful now.
My brother was a ticking time bomb, and if I wasn't careful, the fallout would land squarely on me.
As I eased through the last of the trees into the wide clearing, the ranch came into view. The afternoon air was crisp, touched with the soft sounds of horses playing in their paddocks. Golden sunlight scattered across the fields, warm despite the chill.
My gaze landed on Denny, leading a young colt toward the training ring. The horse, known for his skittish temperament, was already showing signs of agitation: tail flicking, head jerking high with tension.
Across the way at the older barn, Anna was in her element, carrying buckets with a steady rhythm. The scene might have seemed mundane to others, but to me, it spoke volumes. She looked relaxed, almost at ease, her posture loose and shoulders dropped.
It was a welcome sight after the stress of the past few days.
But my calm shifted abruptly when a sudden movement from Denny's direction caught my eye. The young horse was acting up, pulling against the lead rope and rearing slightly. Denny was a seasoned hand, but the colt's unpredictable behavior tested even the most experienced handlers.
The colt's erratic movements made my grip on the steering wheel tighten. It was rare for Denny to show strain, and the fact that he struggled visibly meant this could escalate fast.
My mind raced, torn between the urge to help and the knowledge that intervening could make things worse. I watched, breath caught in my throat, as Denny fought to regain control of the agitated animal.