CHAPTER 22
Anna
I'd already finished my morning tasks, tending to the horses and getting ready for the trip into town.
Standing in front of my closet, I deliberately chose a loose-fitting, long-sleeve blouse and jeans.
Nothing form-fitting, nothing that would draw Jared's attention.
The fabric was soft cotton, breathable enough for the summer heat but covering enough to make me feel protected.
I felt as though I was putting on armor.
Now I paced the entryway, my boots clicking softly against the hardwood floor as anxiety churned in my stomach. I heard Jaxon's Jeep pull up outside, the familiar rumble of the engine cutting through the quiet morning, but I remained inside, my feet seemingly rooted to the spot.
The events of the previous day, the fire, the uncertainty, the exhaustion, had been intense enough. Now, the thought of being in close quarters with Jared filled me with an unease I couldn't shake.
The sound of boots on the deck drew my attention, and then Jaxon was pushing through the front door.
He was dressed in a plain black T-shirt that stretched across his shoulders and a pair of well-fitting jeans, his keys clipped to his belt.
The morning light caught in his dark hair, still slightly damp from his shower.
His steps were measured as he entered, and his expression softened when he took in my body language. I knew what he was seeing, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, my gaze darting toward the window, my lower lip caught between my teeth. I felt terrified.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Jaxon asked, his voice low and full of concern. "I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to."
I nodded, trying to muster some confidence, but my eyes dropped to the floor. My fingers fidgeted with each other, twisting and pulling. "It'll make you feel better if I go, right?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.
He nodded slowly.
"Then I'll go," I said.
Jaxon sighed softly, then stepped closer. His hand came up to cup my cheek where the bruise from the accident was barely visible beneath the light dusting of makeup I'd carefully applied that morning.
His thumb brushed over the tender skin, tracing the edges of the fading swelling with such careful reverence that it ignited something warm deep in my chest. The calluses on his thumb were rough against my skin, but his touch was feather-light.
I leaned into his palm, my eyes closing for a moment as I savored the warmth radiating from his hand, the faint scent of his soap, clean and masculine with hints of cedar.
"You know I'll keep you safe," he said softly, his eyes steady and full of reassurance when I opened mine to meet his gaze. "I promise."
I raised my hand, resting it lightly on his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath the soft cotton of his shirt. His heartbeat was steady under my palm—strong, sure, grounding. My smile grew a little as our eyes held.
"I know," I whispered. "I trust you."
The words felt monumental leaving my lips. Trust. Such a simple word that meant everything. And I meant them.
Jaxon studied me for a long moment before nodding and stepping back. "All right," he said quietly, then turned to head outside, grabbing my keys on his way. His confidence seemed to bolster my own, and I followed him to the door.
When he opened it, he paused in the doorway, his broad frame blocking my view of the yard. His shoulders tensed.
"Get in the bed of the truck, Jared," Jaxon said, his tone tight and leaving no room for argument.
Jared muttered something under his breath that I couldn't make out, but even muffled, it carried an ugly edge. Then came the metallic clang of the tailgate dropping, followed by the scrape of a bag and the dull thud of items being loaded.
Jaxon walked out onto the porch, and I followed a few steps behind, my heart picking up speed with every movement.
The morning air was already warm, carrying the scent of dust and hay from the barn.
As I moved toward the passenger side of the truck, gravel crunching under my boots, my gaze flicked toward the windshield.
My stomach dropped.
Jared was watching me through the glass.
Not leering like before, this was different.
Worse. His eyes were cold, calculating, filled with something dark that made my skin prickle.
That look. It was the same way Daniel used to look at me sometimes, right before things got bad.
That cold assessment, like I was a problem to be solved or an obstacle to remove.
I looked away quickly, a sheen of cold sweat forming on my brow despite the warm morning air. My hands trembled slightly as I climbed into the passenger seat, the leather cool against my palms.
Jaxon went around to the back, shutting the tailgate with a firm bang before sliding into the driver's seat. The truck smelled like him, that clean soap scent mixed with something earthy, masculine. It should have been comforting, but anxiety thrummed through my veins like an electric current.
As we backed out and headed for the road, I kept my eyes forward, staring at the dashboard, the horizon, anywhere but the rearview mirror, where I might catch Jared's reflection. I focused on getting through the trip without looking back or engaging.
My hands fidgeted in my lap, picking at the skin around my nails, worrying at a hangnail, anything to dispel the restless energy coursing through me. The skin was already red and irritated, but I couldn't stop.
Jaxon, ever observant, reached across the center console without a word. His hand closed around mine, warm and solid, stilling my frantic movements. His thumb began tracing slow, soothing circles over my knuckles.
The gentle pressure was immediately grounding, a steady reassurance against the rising tide of anxiety threatening to pull me under. His thumb's rhythmic motion anchored me in the present, in this quiet, safe moment, away from the ghosts Jared's presence threatened to awaken.
My heartbeat slowed. My breathing steadied. The warmth of his hand radiated through me, solid and real and safe.
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, taking in his profile. The set of his jaw, the intensity in his gaze as he focused on the road, and the underlying calm that belied whatever turmoil he must have been feeling about his brother.
I squeezed his hand lightly, grateful for the quiet strength he offered as the truck rolled on toward town.
"So, what did you need to do while in town?" I asked as we neared the outskirts, needing to break the silence, to focus on something other than the weight of Jared's presence behind us.
Jaxon glanced in the rearview mirror, his gaze flickering to the back where Jared sat. His voice lowered, taking on a grim tone. "I'm dropping Jared off at the motel so he can start finding a job and housing. He's not doing it while crashing at my place."
The words caught me completely off guard. I whipped my head toward Jaxon, my eyes wide with surprise, my mouth falling open as questions swirled in my mind.
Jaxon chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, and reached out to gently push my chin up with his fingertip, closing my parted lips. The brief touch sent a shiver through me.
"Does he know about this plan?" I asked, my voice a mix of curiosity and concern as I studied Jaxon's tense expression and the tight lines bracketing his mouth.
"Yup. He's not happy about it, but he'll get over it," Jaxon said, his jaw tightening as something unpleasant flickered across his features. "It's not the first time I've had to kick him out."
The slight clench of his jaw told me there was a deeper story beneath the surface. I reached across the console and placed my hand on his forearm, feeling the taut muscles beneath his sun-kissed skin, still warm from the sunlight streaming through the window. I gave a reassuring squeeze.
"Will you tell me about it?" I asked quietly.
Jaxon hesitated, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, his hands tightening almost imperceptibly on the steering wheel. After a tense moment that stretched between us, he sighed heavily and gave a small nod.
"When I was with Nikki, before I deployed, Jared lived with us for a while. He'd lost his job and had nowhere to go, so I let him crash there until he got back on his feet. But I didn't realize how bad his drug habit had spiraled…"
His voice trailed off, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he clenched his teeth. I could see the pain playing out behind his eyes, memories he'd rather keep buried surfacing despite his efforts.
I didn't push. I already knew the tragic ending.
Nikki's death and Jaxon's devastation upon returning home.
But hearing that he had kicked Jared out before shed new light on the deep rift between the brothers.
My heart ached for how strained and fragile family bonds could become under such immense pressure.
I kept my hand on his arm, an anchor, letting him know I was here without demanding more than he was ready to give.
Jaxon seemed to draw strength from my touch, his breathing evening out. He fixed his gaze on the yellow lines stretching endlessly before us, the rhythmic thrum of the tires filling the silence.
"It was a brutal decision," he continued, his voice low and controlled, yet laced with lingering pain. "But I couldn't risk Nikki's well-being with Jared so far gone. I knew he couldn't be trusted in that state. As much as it killed me, I had to protect her…"
He trailed off, and the unspoken ending hung heavily between us. I knew the guilt that haunted him: that she died anyway.
I nodded slowly, my fingers curling around the solid curve of his bicep in a silent gesture of understanding and support. I could sense the guilt he still harbored, the agonizing burden of decisions made with the best intentions yet ending in tragedy.