CHAPTER 28 #2
The terrifying realization crystallized with brutal clarity. Daniel had finally made good on his threats after months of ominous silence. He'd tracked me down, found me despite everything, and now he was here to punish me for fleeing his obsessive clutches.
Sick dread churned in my stomach, bile rising in my throat.
The thought of Jaxon coming home to find me gone, or worse finding my body.
made my blood run cold. The knowledge that my fate could emotionally destroy him the same way Nikki's death had, forcing him to relive that soul-crushing agony of loss and helplessness. .. No. This can't happen to him again.
Adrenaline-fueled tremors overtook my muscles, making me shake uncontrollably against my attacker's grip. And then I felt it, an abrupt, sharp sting in my shoulder.
The sensation was distinct. A pinch. Then burning pressure. Then something cold spreading beneath my skin. What—
A wave of numbness followed, radiating outward from the injection site like ice water through my veins.
Against my will, my body began to sag, my legs losing their strength.
My knees buckled as a heavy lethargy stole through my limbs, slow and suffocating.
My mind screamed at me to fight it. Stay awake. Fight—
But my body wasn't listening. The world softened around the edges, sounds turning distant and hollow. As I slid toward the floor, darkness tunneled my vision, shrinking everything to a dim, narrowing point.
Through the haze, I caught a blurry glimpse of my attacker's profile.
Sandy blonde hair. Not dark.
Not Daniel?
Confusion swirled through the fog of encroaching blackness, making it impossible to process what I was seeing. If not Daniel, then who—
Movement behind the first figure caught my fading attention. A second shadow loomed in the hallway. Tall, broad-shouldered, unmistakable even through the haze.
My drug-addled mind fought to focus. The height. The build. The way he stood.
Jaxon?
The last thought that flickered through my fading consciousness was an awful, bewildering question that made no sense, one that couldn't possibly be true but looked so real. Why was Jaxon just standing there, letting this happen?
Then—nothing.
Jaxon
"Anna? You in here?"
My voice echoed through the silent house as I nudged the front door open with my foot, arms laden with rustling grocery bags.
The plastic handles bit into my fingers from the weight, I'd grabbed everything in one trip because going back out to the Jeep felt like a waste of time when I could be with Anna instead.
I made my way to the kitchen, the bags crinkling loudly in the quiet, and dropped them onto the table. I should have asked her to help, but she was so focused on that tack room.
After unloading the last of the groceries, a truly impressive haul for a cookout that probably should've taken two trips, I paused in the kitchen doorway, straining my ears for any sign of movement.
Nothing.
No water running upstairs. No footsteps. No music playing from her phone like there usually was when she worked. Just... silence.
Maybe she's still in the barn? I frowned, and an uneasy feeling began to prickle at the back of my neck, that sixth sense honed by years in combat zones that whispered something's wrong.
I climbed the stairs, my boots thudding softly on the worn wooden steps, the sound seeming too loud in the quiet house.
I poked my head into her bedroom, but the neatly made bed and tidy surfaces offered no clues to Anna's whereabouts.
The room still smelled like her, that warm mix of vanilla and honey from whatever lotion she used, but it was empty.
My brows knit together as I descended the stairs, taking them two at a time now, and strode out toward the barn. The afternoon sun hit me like a wall of heat, making me squint as I crossed the yard, hoping to find her elbow-deep in chores as usual.
But the barn stood quiet and empty. The horses nickered softly in their stalls at my appearance, hopeful for treats or attention. Choco's head popped over his stall door, ears pricked forward, but no Anna.
Where is she? My heart began to beat faster, that unease sharpening into something more urgent.
I scanned the ranch, looking toward the training rings, the pastures, anywhere she might've wandered.
Just as I was about to head toward Connor's place to check the other buildings, Denny's booming voice rang out from one of the training rings.
"You looking for Anna?"
I spun around, relief flooding through me so fast it made me dizzy. I nodded eagerly at the ranch hand, already moving in his direction.
Denny hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the road. "Her truck drove by 'bout forty minutes ago. Headed out toward your place or the back fields."
Her truck? Why would she—
"Thanks, Denny," I called, already turning back toward the house.
With a quick wave, I hurried across the yard, my unease growing with every step. As I rounded the corner of Connor's house, the glaring absence of Anna's truck out front hit me like a punch to the gut.
How did I miss that?
I'd been so focused on getting the groceries inside, so caught up in hurrying back to her, that I hadn't even noticed her truck was gone. The empty space where it should've been parked suddenly felt ominous. Wrong. She went to my place? Why wouldn't she wait for me?
Fishing my phone from my pocket with fumbling fingers, I punched in her number. My thumb hovered over her contact photo, a candid shot I'd taken of her laughing with Choco, before I pressed call.
It rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Come on, baby. Pick up.
Four rings. Five.
Then her voicemail kicked in, her cheerful voice spilling through the speaker. The sound of it, so normal, so Anna, made my chest tighten with a kind of anxiety I couldn't name but felt deep in my bones.
"Anna, it's me. Call me back as soon as you get this," I said, trying to keep the worry from bleeding into my voice, and failing miserably.
Back in the kitchen, I fired off a quick text asking where she was before turning my attention to the groceries.
My hands moved automatically, muscle memory taking over while my mind spun through possibilities.
Maybe she wanted to surprise me at the cabin.
Maybe she went to start setting up there instead.
But even as I thought it, it didn't feel right. She would've told me. Texted. Left a note. Something.
As I opened the fridge, a folded piece of paper held in place by a magnet caught my eye.
There. See? A note.
Relief washed through me as I plucked it from the door, expecting a cute message or a reminder about something we needed for tonight, maybe a teasing comment about me rushing through the shopping.
But as I unfolded it and scanned the first few lines, the words blurred.
A wave of dizziness hit me like a physical blow, making the kitchen tilt sickeningly. I gripped the counter with my free hand, knuckles whitening as my heart constricted painfully in my chest. No, this can't be—
"Jaxon," the note began, the handwriting jagged and harsh, nothing like Anna's neat script. "Unless you want a repeat of what happened with your fiancée, you will give me the money. And not just what I owe from past debts, but the money you got when they killed Nikki too."
The room spun.
My vision tunneled until all I could see were those words, burned into my mind like a brand.
What they earned for killing Nikki.
A cold sweat broke out along my hairline, trickling down my temple despite the heat of the kitchen. The implications sank in slowly, horribly, each realization worse than the last.
The drug dealers Jared had been mixed up with—they were behind Nikki's murder.
They killed her. Not some random robbery. They killed her looking for money.
Bile rose in my throat at the thought of them believing they'd earned something by taking an innocent life. By destroying everything I had. By murdering the woman I loved in cold blood while searching for cash that wasn't even there.
And now Anna was tangled up in this nightmare too.
All because of my mistakes. Because I turned my back on Jared.
The note crumpled in my fist as a litany of curses spilled from my lips, each one more vicious than the last. I sprinted up the stairs to the guest room, taking them three at a time, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
I never should've brushed Jared off. Should've helped him. Should've seen this coming.
Ripping open the closet door with enough force to nearly tear it from its hinges, I dragged out my old Marine duffel and tore into it. My fingers closed around the familiar hard plastic of my pistol case, and I flipped it open with practiced ease.
I checked that my Colt .45 was loaded, magazine full with one in the chamber, then strapped on my thigh holster. The familiar weight settled against my leg like an old friend. Cold comfort for what I was about to do.
I knew I couldn't just go in guns blazing; that'll get her killed.
I couldn't just roar in with the Jeep, engine revving and weapon drawn. That would put Anna at even greater risk, would give them a reason to hurt her before I could reach her. I needed a plan. A strategy. The same cool, calculating mindset that had kept me alive through two tours.
Assess. Plan. Execute.
My eyes narrowed with focus as I jogged down the stairs and out the front door, my mind already racing through tactical options. The afternoon sun beat down on me, but I barely felt it, every thought funneled into one purpose.
Get Anna back. Whatever it takes.
A distant whinny split the still air, pulling me up short. Then, like a spark catching dry tinder, an idea flared to life.
The back way. Through the woods.
I changed direction immediately, heading for Anna's barn as I pulled out my phone to call the sheriff. My fingers moved on instinct, guided by muscle memory from too many emergency calls overseas.
"Sheriff's Department," the dispatcher answered.
"This is Jaxon Mercer. I need units at my cabin off Route 19, north side. I've got a hostage situation." My tone came out clipped, military-precise despite the panic clawing at my chest. "I'm going in. Send backup."
I didn't wait for the dispatcher's response before hanging up and breaking into a jog again.
Backup would be at least forty-five minutes out, but I couldn't afford to wait. Every second Anna stayed in their hands was one too many. Every heartbeat was a chance for them to hurt her, to do to her what they'd done to Nikki.
Not again. I won't lose her too.
I strode into the barn, my boots hitting the concrete with steady, deliberate thuds.
The sharp scent of hay and leather filled the air.
Choco nickered softly from his stall, his ears flicking forward as he sensed my agitation.
Animals always knew. They could smell the adrenaline and fear buried beneath fury.
"Come on, boy," I murmured, voice rough with emotion as I slipped the bridle over his head. My hands stayed steady despite the chaos inside me. "Let's go get our girl."
Choco's dark eyes met mine, intelligent and steady. He shifted his weight, ready, already feeling the urgency thrumming through me.
My jaw clenched as I led him from the barn, cold fury pooling low in my gut. It was a familiar burn, one I hadn't felt since my last firefight overseas, that icy calm that came when the chaos hit, when there was no room for fear, only action.
I'd be damned if I let Jared's mistakes put Anna in danger. Not while I still had breath in my lungs. Not while I could still fight.
In one smooth motion, I swung into the saddle, gripping Choco's sides as I turned him toward the narrow back trail. The path wound through the woods behind the ranch, a route that led straight to my cabin, unseen from the road. The approach they wouldn't expect.
As Choco broke into a canter, his hooves thudding against packed earth, that old familiar coldness settled over me. The same steel-edged calm that had kept me alive in combat—detached, focused, lethal.
They'd made a mistake taking her.
And I was going to make them pay for it.
Every single one of them.