CHAPTER 32 #2
I gasped, tensing in Jaxon's arms as my entire body went rigid with surprise and a spike of irrational fear. In one fluid, protective motion that spoke of his military training, Jaxon spun around, his body instantly becoming a shield between me and the perceived threat.
My mind registered the danger, the threat, then corrected itself. No—wait—
My heart pounded against my ribs as adrenaline flooded my system, and I had to fight the instinct to scramble away, to hide, to run.
Then I saw who it was.
Connor stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and a deep frown etched on his face. His gaze flicked between Jaxon and me, sharp and assessing, and I saw the exact moment recognition and understanding dawned.
Oh God.
The air crackled with tension, the weight of his unexpected presence pressing down on the suddenly too-small kitchen.
My face flushed hot with embarrassment. I was acutely aware of how we must look.
Me perched on the counter, legs still loosely around Jaxon's waist, both of us flushed and breathing hard, caught in a moment that wasn't meant to be seen.
"I guess I don't need to offer you one of the guest cabins while you fix your place," Connor said dryly. His voice was gruff, laced with sarcasm. He raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise, resignation, and something that might have been concern.
I knew he was upset. He was angry. He was going to lecture us.
I slid off the counter quickly, nearly stumbling as my feet hit the floor. Jaxon's arm immediately came around my waist to steady me, and I was grateful for the support, my legs felt distinctly unsteady.
Trying to gather myself, I took a step toward Connor. "What are you doing here? We weren't expecting you for a couple of days."
Connor sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, a sure sign he was stressed. "We left the show early. I didn't need to be there any longer, and after hearing what happened…" His eyes found mine, softening with concern. "I wanted to be home. So we packed up and drove straight through."
He'd driven twenty hours straight to get here.
Guilt twisted in my stomach. He'd left the show early because of me, because of what had happened.
Jaxon moved closer, his arm still around my waist in a gesture that was both supportive and slightly defiant, given Connor's expression. He squared his shoulders, preparing for the inevitable confrontation.
"Connor, I won't apologize for how I feel about Anna," Jaxon said evenly. "My feelings are real, and they're not going away."
My breath caught. The directness of it, the honesty, the refusal to hide or make excuses, was so quintessentially Jaxon that my heart swelled even as anxiety knotted in my chest.
The silence stretched taut as wire. I held my breath, waiting for Connor's response.
To my surprise, his expression softened. The hard lines around his mouth eased, and a small, understanding smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I don't want you to apologize, Jaxon," he said quietly. "As long as you treat her right and don't hurt her, I'm okay with it. I just want Anna to be happy."
Relief washed through me so powerfully my knees nearly gave out. "Connor—"
But he wasn't finished. His eyes found mine again, filled with that familiar protectiveness. "I do want to talk to both of you, though. About what happened, and about where things stand."
Of course he does. He needs to process everything.
I crossed the distance between us and pulled Connor into a tight hug. He was solid and familiar, smelling of hay, leather, and the road. Tears stung my eyes. "I missed you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "I'm so glad you're home."
Connor returned the embrace, wrapping me in his strong arms and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "I missed you too. And I'm sorry for barging in like that. It's just… after everything that happened, I was worried about you."
I pulled back, offering Connor a reassuring smile even though my face still ached.
"I know, Connor. But I'm okay. We're okay."
His gaze shifted between Jaxon and me, taking in the bruises no amount of makeup could hide, the closeness of our stance, the protective way Jaxon's hand rested at the small of my back.
He nodded slowly. "Alright. Let me put my stuff away and clean up. Then we talk—all three of us."
"Deal," I said. "And there's lasagna in the oven. It should be ready in about twenty minutes."
Connor's expression lightened slightly. "Your grandmother's recipe?"
"Of course."
"Then I'll definitely be back down in twenty minutes," he said, his humor flickering through, before grabbing his bag and heading upstairs.
As his footsteps faded overhead, I let out a shaky breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Jaxon drew me into his chest, and I buried my face in his shirt.
"That went better than expected," he murmured into my hair.
"He's going to grill us," I said, voice muffled against him. "You know that, right? He'll want every detail."
"I know." Jaxon's arms tightened around me. "And we'll tell him whatever he needs to know."
Twenty minutes later, we sat at Connor's dining table. The lasagna steamed between us, but none of us had eaten more than a bite. The weight of what needed to be said made food feel impossible.
Connor set down his fork, leaning back in his chair. His eyes moved between Jaxon and me. "Okay. I need to understand everything that happened—from the beginning."
So we told him.
I started with being in the house, hearing Chester barking, then being attacked in the hallway. My voice trembled as I described being slammed into the wall, the sting of the needle piercing my shoulder, and the darkness that followed.
Jaxon took over then, his tone steady but his jaw tight, as he described coming home to find me gone, the note from Isaac, and his ride through the woods on Choco to approach unseen. His fists clenched as he spoke, each word edged with controlled anger.
"The gunshot," Connor said quietly, his face pale. "Was anyone—"
"No one was hit," Jaxon assured him. "It went into the wall. But for a second…" He trailed off, gripping my hand beneath the table. "For a second, I didn't know if I'd been fast enough."
Connor's gaze shifted to me, taking in the evidence of what had been done. "Anna, your face—"
"Looks worse than it is," I said automatically. "Mostly just bruising. No fractures."
"Mostly?" His voice sharpened. "What else?"
I hesitated, but Jaxon's thumb brushed across my knuckles, steady and grounding.
"Concussion," I admitted. "Rope burns on my wrists and ankles. The injection site is bruised. But I'm okay, Connor. Really."
He closed his eyes, jaw clenched tight. When he looked at me again, the anger there wasn't wild, it was protective. Dangerous in its calm.
"Tell me they're both in jail," he said, his voice low. "Tell me they're paying for this."
"They are," Jaxon confirmed. "Isaac's being charged with kidnapping, assault, and Nikki's murder. Multiple life sentences. He's also wanted in Utah for other crimes."
"And Jared?" Connor asked, a flicker of sympathy softening his tone.
"Twenty-five to thirty years minimum," Jaxon said quietly. "Accessory to murder after the fact, kidnapping, arson, assault. He's cooperating, but... he'll be in prison a long time."
"Good," Connor said flatly. Then, more gently, "I'm sorry, Jax. I know he's your brother, but—"
"He made his choices," Jaxon cut in. "Those choices got Nikki killed and put Anna in danger. I'm done making excuses for him."
Connor nodded, accepting that. His gaze returned to me. "And you two?" He gestured between us. "How long has this been going on?"
Heat crept up my neck. "It's... recent. Just over two weeks. But we'd been getting closer even before you left."
"Since she showed up at my door with breakfast," Jaxon added with a small smile. "The morning after Choco got loose."
Connor raised an eyebrow. "That long?"
"We took it slow," I said quickly. "We were figuring things out, and then everything happened so fast—"
Connor sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, part of me wants to be the overprotective big brother and tell Jaxon I'll break his legs if he hurts you."
Jaxon's lips twitched despite himself.
"But I can see you're happy," Connor continued. "Happier than you've been in years, Anna. And Jaxon…" He met his friend's eyes. "You're different too. More alive. Like you finally let yourself breathe again."
"She makes me want to live again," Jaxon said quietly. "After Nikki, I was just... existing. But Anna—she makes me want to build a future."
Tears pricked at my eyes, and I blinked them back.
Connor nodded slowly. "Then I'm happy for you. Both of you. Just—" His tone hardened. "Jaxon, if you hurt her—"
"You'll break my legs, I know," Jaxon finished with a faint smile. "But I promise you, Connor, I'd rather die than hurt her. After everything she's been through, everything we've both been through, she deserves happiness. And I'll spend every day trying to give that to her."
The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten. I squeezed his hand beneath the table, letting him feel the words I couldn't say aloud.
Connor studied us both for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. Then you have my blessing. Not that you needed it, but you have it."
"Thank you," I whispered. "That means everything to me."
"Just promise me something," Connor said, his tone softening again. "Both of you. Talk to someone—a therapist. What you went through was traumatic. You'll need help processing it."
"We already talked about that," I assured him. "We're finding someone this week."
"Good." Connor finally took another bite of lasagna, nodding in approval. "Now eat. This is too good to let go cold, and I'm starving after that drive."
The tension that had held the room so tightly began to ease. The conversation shifted then. Connor talked about the horse show, the deals he'd made; us sharing how Denny and the others had kept things running.
It felt normal. Peaceful, even.
Almost like nothing had happened.