CHAPTER 30
Anna
I watched in helpless horror, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged bird desperate to escape. The two men fought viciously just feet away, so close I could feel the vibration of their bodies hitting the floor, could hear every grunt of pain and exertion.
The coppery taste of blood flooded my mouth as I bit into my cheek, the pain sharp and grounding.
I strained against my bonds with everything I had, the rough fibers cutting into my skin, rubbing it raw as I struggled to break free.
The rope burned like fire where it scraped my wrists, but I didn't care. I had to get free. I had to help him.
Jaxon—
Tears streamed down my face, hot and unstoppable, soaking the duct tape that muffled my screams. The salt stung the delicate skin around my mouth and burned in the raw scrape on my cheek where my face had been slammed into the wall, just another addition to the litany of pain.
But none of it compared to the terror crushing my chest.
They rolled across the floor in a violent tangle of limbs, and I saw Jaxon's face, contorted with effort, a cut above his eyebrow bleeding down into his eye.
The other man, Isaac, was bigger and stronger.
They grappled for control of the gun, their struggle desperate enough to make my stomach twist with dread.
The weapon swung wildly between them, their fingers locked around the grip in a deadly tug-of-war. The metal glinted in the afternoon light streaming through the windows, and all I could think was that one of them was going to die.
In a heart-stopping instant, the weapon discharged.
The deafening blast reverberated through the cabin like a clap of thunder, so loud it felt like my eardrums would burst. The sound tore through me like a physical blow, and my muffled scream was a raw, animalistic cry of pure terror that died against the tape.
NO.
For a moment, the world stood still. Time was suspended, stretched thin like taffy, as the echoes of the gunshot rang in my ears, muffling everything else. The acrid scent of gunpowder hung heavy in the air, burning my nose and throat.
I couldn't see. Couldn't tell who was hurt.
Both men were frozen for a split second, and then—with a final, desperate surge of strength that seemed to come from somewhere primal, Jaxon wrenched the gun from Isaac's grasp.
In one fluid motion, he delivered a crushing blow to Isaac's temple with the butt of the weapon.
Isaac's body went slack immediately. His eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. A trickle of blood snaked down his temple from where the gun had connected, dark and stark against his pale skin.
Jaxon staggered to his feet, chest heaving as he rushed to my side. His hands were trembling as he reached for me, carefully peeling the tape from my mouth. The adhesive pulled at my skin, sharp and stinging, making me cry out when it tugged at the injured side of my face.
As he peeled it away, I saw his expression change, saw the color drain from his face as he took in the full extent of the damage. His jaw clenched, and his fingers ghosted over my cheekbone, feather-light, though even that gentle touch made me wince.
"Your face," he breathed, anguish clear in his voice. His eyes were wide with horror as they traced the swelling and bruising. "Anna, your face—"
"I'm okay," I managed, even though my entire face throbbed with every word, even though I could feel the swelling distorting my features, could taste the blood where I'd bitten my cheek. "I'm okay. Just untie me. Please."
"I'm here, baby. You're okay." His voice was rough, shaking, and I saw the tears glinting in his eyes as his fingers fumbled with the knots binding me, working faster despite the tremor in his hands.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he worked to free me, the fibers biting into his already scraped and bleeding fingers. I wanted to tell him to slow down, to be careful, but no words came, just broken sobs I couldn't contain.
The moment the last of the ropes fell away, I collapsed into his arms. My entire body shook uncontrollably with tremors I couldn't stop no matter how hard I tried. I clung to him, trying to bury my face in the crook of his neck, but the pressure against my injured cheek made me gasp in pain.
I was safe. He was safe. We were both safe.
Jaxon held me tight, his arms wrapped around me like a shield, like he could protect me from the world.
Yet even in his panic, he was careful, mindful of my injuries as he adjusted his hold.
One hand cradled the back of my head while he whispered reassurances, words I couldn't quite make out over the roaring in my ears and the ragged rhythm of my own breathing.
But I felt them. Felt the care in every syllable, the relief, the fear that mirrored my own.
The sudden sound of splintering wood made me flinch violently against him. The front door burst open with a resounding bang, echoing through the cabin. Armed officers flooded in, their heavy boots thudding against the floorboards, weapons drawn as they took control of the scene.
"Police! Hands where we can see them!"
Jaxon instinctively pulled me closer, angling his body to shield me from the chaos. I felt him tense, every muscle going rigid, as his eyes tracked the officers sweeping the room.
"I’m Jaxon Mercer," he called out, his voice steady despite everything. "I'm the one who called. The suspect is down. He's unconscious."
The officers moved with practiced efficiency—swift, controlled, precise.
Two of them converged on Isaac's motionless form, roughly pulling his arms behind his back and securing them with metal handcuffs that clicked closed with finality.
The sound made me shudder with relief, knowing he couldn't hurt us now.
Another pair of officers hurried to Jared, whom I'd almost forgotten was still there. They cut through his restraints with a small knife, the ropes falling away as he slumped forward with a groan of pain.
I should have felt something for him. Pity, maybe, or anger. But all I felt was numb exhaustion and the throbbing ache radiating from my face.
The room buzzed with activity, the air thick with tension and the crackle of police radios.
Officers moved around us, voices overlapping in a cacophony of commands and clipped exchanges.
The flash of cameras illuminated the room in harsh bursts, each one making my head pound harder as they documented our nightmare.
"Ma'am, are you injured? Do you need medical attention?"
I tried to nod, but the motion sent pain lancing through my skull. I pressed a trembling hand to my face, feeling the heat and swelling beneath my palm.
"She needs medical attention," Jaxon said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Her face—and she was unconscious from whatever they drugged her with. She needs to be checked for a concussion."
"Paramedics are outside," the officer said, his expression softening as he took in my condition. "Let's get you both looked at."
In the midst of it all, we moved together slowly, and I couldn't stop crying. The tears burned as they tracked down my injured face, making the pain worse, but I couldn't stop them. My slender frame shook with silent sobs as the weight of everything crashed over me in relentless waves.
Jaxon kept one arm around me, supporting most of my weight as we made our way outside, murmuring words of comfort and love. When I finally looked up at him, I saw his own eyes glistening with unshed tears, the lump in his throat visible as he swallowed hard.
"You came," I whispered, my voice hoarse and broken, slurred slightly from the swelling. "You came for me."
"Always," he breathed, pressing his forehead gently to the uninjured side of mine. "I'll always come for you, Anna."
Outside, the paramedics descended on us immediately. One guided me to sit on the back of the ambulance while another examined Jaxon a few feet away.
"Ma'am, I'm Sarah. Can you tell me what happened to your face?"
"Slammed into a wall," I managed, each word an effort. "Then they drugged me. I don't know with what."
Her gloved fingers probed carefully at my cheekbone and forehead, and I had to bite back a cry at even that gentle touch.
"You're going to have significant bruising and swelling," she said, her tone professional but kind. "The impact site is here on your cheekbone and temple. Possible fracture—definitely a concussion, given you lost consciousness. You really should go to the hospital for a CT scan and X-rays."
The thought of the hospital, more strangers, more questions, fluorescent lights, and sterile rooms, made me tense.
I shook my head, too quickly maybe, because the world tilted sickeningly and nausea rolled through me. I gripped the edge of the ambulance, fighting to keep from throwing up.
"Whoa, easy." Sarah's hand steadied me. "That reaction right there tells me you definitely have a concussion. Anna, you need proper medical care."
"I'm fine. I just want to go home." Even I could hear how unconvincing I sounded, how my words slurred together.
"Anna." Jaxon's voice came from beside me, and I looked up to see him standing there, a fresh bandage over his eyebrow and concern etched into every line of his face. "You need to get checked out properly. Please."
"I'm not leaving you," I said stubbornly, even as my head throbbed with each word, even as the world swam in and out of focus.
Jaxon crouched down in front of me, taking my hands in his. "I'll come with you. I'm not going anywhere. But Sarah's right, you need X-rays, you need a proper exam. What if there's internal bleeding? What if—" His voice cracked. "Please. For me."
The paramedics exchanged glances, and Sarah sighed. "How about this, we transport you both to County General. You can stay together the whole time. But, Anna, this isn't optional. You have a serious head injury."
I looked at Jaxon, saw the fear and pleading in his eyes, and finally nodded. "Okay. Together."
"Together," he confirmed, bringing my hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "Always together."
Sarah cleaned the scrapes on my face, the antiseptic burning, before applying bandages to the worst areas. She gave me an ice pack for the swelling, and the cold was a small relief against the throbbing heat.
"Any nausea, vomiting, vision changes, worsening headache, or confusion—you tell someone immediately," she instructed as she helped me lie back on the gurney. "Head injuries are serious."
As they loaded me into the ambulance, Jaxon climbed in beside me, refusing to let go of my hand. The last thing I saw before the doors closed was the cabin, the place that had been Jaxon's sanctuary, now a crime scene, crawling with police and marked with evidence tape.
Hours later, after CT scans, X-rays, and what felt like a thousand questions from doctors and police officers alike, we were finally cleared to leave.
Moderate concussion. No skull fracture, just severe bruising and soft-tissue damage.
I'd been given strict instructions about concussion protocol, pain medication, and follow-up appointments.
The sheriff found us in the hospital waiting room, going over the charges one final time.
Isaac was being held without bail—kidnapping, assault, accessory to murder.
With our statements, Jared's testimony, and the evidence from the cabin, the case against him was airtight.
They were also charging him with Nikki's murder.
On top of that, he was wanted in Utah for multiple felonies: drug trafficking, assault, and suspected involvement in several other homicides.
"He's going away for life," Sheriff Davies said, his tone edged with grim satisfaction. "Multiple life sentences, most likely. He'll never see the outside of a prison again."
Jaxon's hand tightened around mine. I watched the flicker of emotion cross his face. Relief, yes, but also something heavier. A bone-deep exhaustion.
Jared wasn't escaping justice either. He was facing charges for accessory after the fact to Nikki's murder, along with kidnapping, assault, and arson. The list felt endless.
"What about Jared?" Jaxon asked quietly, his voice measured but strained. "How long?"
"With everything combined? Twenty-five to thirty years minimum, maybe more," Davies replied, sighing. "He's cooperating, which could help a little. But… he's still going away for a long time, son. I'm sorry."
I turned to look at Jaxon as the sheriff spoke, watching the grief settle over him like a shadow. This was his brother, the boy he'd grown up with, trusted, loved. And now that bond had been shattered, not by death, but by betrayal and addiction and choices that had wrecked so many lives.
"Thank you, Sheriff," Jaxon said finally. "For everything."
After the sheriff left, we sat in silence for a long moment. The waiting room was quiet now, most of the other patients gone home. It was well past midnight, creeping toward dawn.
"Are you okay?" I asked softly, my words still slightly slurred from the swelling and medication. "With Jared going to prison?"
Jaxon was quiet for a long time, and I could feel the war happening inside him, see it in the tension of his shoulders, in the way he stared down at his clasped hands.
"I don't know," he admitted finally, his voice rough with exhaustion and emotion. "Part of me... part of me is angry. Furious that he let things get this far, that his choices led to Nikki's death, that he put you in danger."
He paused, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of my hand.
"But part of me is just... sad. He's my brother. And I couldn't save him from himself."
Oh, Jaxon.
I shifted closer despite the protests of my aching body, reaching up with my free hand to touch his face. "You tried. You tried to help him, and he made his choices. This isn't on you."
"I know," he whispered, leaning into my touch. "In my head, I know that. But my heart..."
"Your heart loved your brother," I finished softly. "And that's not a weakness. That's what makes you who you are."
He turned his face to press a kiss to my palm, and I saw the tears finally spill over, tracking down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry. You're the one who got hurt, and here I am—"
"Stop," I interrupted gently. "You're allowed to grieve. You lost your brother today, even if he's still alive. That's real loss, Jaxon. And I'm here. We lean on each other, remember?"
He pulled me carefully into his arms, mindful of my injuries, and we held each other as the first tears he'd allowed himself to shed since Nikki's death finally came. I felt them soak into my hospital gown, felt his body shake with silent sobs, and I held him as tightly as I dared.