CHAPTER 37
Anna
"Hey, you coming?" Jaxon's voice carried through the barn aisle, a hint of impatience threading through his tone that made me smile.
I looked up from the saddle I was meticulously cleaning, my hands moving with the practiced precision that came from months of doing this work.
The leather was supple beneath my fingers, the scent of saddle soap and oil familiar and grounding.
"Why don't you head back and start dinner?
" I suggested, glancing at him briefly before returning my focus to buffing out a stubborn spot.
"I'll take my truck from Connor's. I already have the keys in my pocket. "
The sun had dipped below the horizon while I'd been working, casting long shadows across the barn floor that stretched like dark fingers toward the tack room.
It was later than usual for me to stay, but I had a big group coming tomorrow, eight people for a trail ride, plus two lessons in the afternoon, and I wanted to be prepared.
Better to put in the extra time now than rush through everything at dawn.
Jaxon stood in the doorway for a moment, his broad frame backlit by the security lights outside.
I could feel his eyes on me, could sense the internal debate playing out in his mind.
He shifted his weight, and I knew without looking that his brow was furrowed the way it always was when he was worried about something.
He still felt intensely protective of me.
"Okay... if you're sure," he said finally, though the slight hesitation in his voice betrayed his reluctance to leave me here alone.
Jaxon walked over, his boots heavy on the concrete, and gently cupped my face, tilting it up toward his. Our lips met in a soft kiss that tasted like the iced tea we'd shared earlier, and something that was just him. Cedar, horses, summer evening. All of it.
When he pulled back, he looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "Anna..." he started, his gaze lingering on my face as I tried to return my attention to the saddle.
"Hmm?" I murmured, half-listening as I scraped away a stubborn piece of dried mud with my thumbnail.
I felt rather than saw him clench his jaw, could sense the internal struggle behind his eyes as he tried to decide whether to finish his thought. The silence stretched: one heartbeat, two, three.
"I'll tell you later," he said finally, his voice a mix of affection and something else. Concern, maybe, or uncertainty. "Hurry back."
I wondered about his unfinished sentence as I waved, offering a reassuring smile. "I will. Promise."
As the sound of his Jeep's engine faded into the distance, I refocused on my work, determined to have everything in perfect order for tomorrow.
The barn settled into its evening rhythms around me, the soft nickering of horses, the rustle of hay, the creak of old wood adjusting to the cooling temperature.
I decided to give myself another forty-five minutes, maybe less.
Finally, after what felt like forever but was probably only forty-five minutes, I was done for the night.
Every saddle was clean and oiled, every bridle hanging straight on its hook, every brush and curry comb in its proper place.
My back ached from bending over, and my hands smelled strongly of leather and saddle soap despite the gloves I'd worn.
The work was done and everything was ready for tomorrow.
I couldn't wait to get back to the cabin to see what Jaxon had made for dinner.
My stomach grumbled, reminding me that the sandwich I'd grabbed for lunch had been hours ago.
I rinsed my hands in the utility sink, the cool water refreshing against my skin, washing away the grime and sweat of the day.
Once outside, I paused on my way to Connor's house, my gaze drawn automatically to the horses out in the paddock.
The night air was crisp against my heated skin, carrying the scent of pine, earth, and the approaching autumn.
I pulled my jacket tighter, breathing deeply, loving the quiet of the ranch.
I loved watching the horses at night when everything was peaceful, when the only light came from the fat yellow moon hanging in the darkening sky.
The serene scene always calmed me after a long day, the gentle nickering of the horses as they settled in, the rustling of leaves, the crickets beginning their nightly symphony.
Choco lifted his head from grazing, his white socks ghostly in the moonlight, and nickered softly at me. I smiled, lifting my hand in a small wave even though he couldn't possibly understand. I promised myself silently, "I'll give you extra attention tomorrow, boy."
As I turned to head toward my truck, a sound from the guest cabins caught my attention. I paused, my hand instinctively brushing my pocket to feel the reassuring weight of the keys.
A figure emerged from one of the cabins. Stargazer, where the couple from Nevada was staying. Kim. She stepped onto the porch and waved, her movements a little stiff, a little too casual to be natural.
"Excuse me," Kim called, her voice carrying across the quiet night with an edge of urgency. "I'm having an issue with something in here. Can you take a look for me?"
Of course. Guest services. That's my job.
"Sure!" I replied, already walking toward the cabin. My footsteps crunched on the gravel path, loud in the stillness.
As I approached, Kim moved off to the side, away from the open door.
She looked toward the ground, and in the dim porch light I caught a strange expression on her face, something I couldn't quite read.
Guilt? Fear? My steps slowed slightly, some instinct whispering that something wasn't right.
I tried to dismiss the feeling, telling myself she probably just had a plumbing issue.
But my heart had started to beat faster, my body responding to some primitive warning even as my logical mind dismissed it.
I passed Kim, close enough to smell stale cigarette smoke clinging to her clothes, close enough to see her hands trembling, and stepped into the dim cabin. The interior was dark except for a single lamp in the corner, casting long shadows that seemed to ripple and shift.
"What's the issue—" I began, but my voice was abruptly cut off as the door slammed shut behind me with a resounding bang that made me jump.
Whipping around, my heart suddenly pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat, I found myself face-to-face with a shadowy figure hidden in the corner behind the door. As he stepped forward into the faint light, my entire world narrowed to a single point of horrified recognition.
Dark hair. Dark eyes. That face I'd seen in my nightmares almost every single night for months.
No, no, no. This isn't happening.
"Daniel," I whispered hoarsely, my voice barely audible over the rushing blood in my ears, over the sound of my own heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
My body reacted instantly, bypassing conscious thought entirely.
Fight-or-flight instincts kicked in with a vengeance, adrenaline dumping into my system so fast it made my vision sharpen and my hands shake.
I rushed toward the door in a desperate attempt to escape, my only thought a primal need to get out, get away, run. I needed to move, move, MOVE—
But Daniel was too quick. He'd always been too quick.
His hand shot out like a striking snake, fingers wrapping around my upper arm in a vise-like grip I remembered too well, one that had left so many bruises over the months we'd been together.
He threw me backward with a strength that still shocked me despite having experienced it before, sending me stumbling deeper into the room.
I lost my balance, my feet tangling beneath me, and collided hard with the back of the couch in the center of the room.
The air rushed out of my lungs on impact, the edge of the couch catching me across the lower back and sending a sharp jolt of pain shooting down my legs. I desperately tried to get up.
"I've waited too long for this," Daniel declared, his voice low and menacing, familiar and terrifying all at once. He advanced toward me with rushed intent, each movement predatory and purposeful.
My heart raced, my mind screaming at me to run, to fight, to do something—anything.
But my body felt frozen, paralyzed by fear and shock and the horrible realization that he'd found me.
After all these months of running, of hiding, of building a new life, he'd found me. I couldn't process how he'd found me.
Before I could force my limbs to cooperate, before I could open my mouth to scream, Daniel raised his fist. Moonlight streaming through the window glinted off something silver, a ring on his finger, the same ring he'd worn when we were together.
The impact of his fist against my face was explosive. A burst of pain so intense and immediate that it blotted out every other sensation. My head snapped to the side from the force, and something warm and wet began streaming from my nose and mouth.
The floor rushed up to meet me, or maybe I fell. I couldn't tell which. Everything became a chaotic swirl of pain, darkness, and the coppery taste of blood filling my mouth. Not again. Please, not again.
Darkness consumed my vision like a wave crashing over me, pulling me under. The last thing I saw before unconsciousness claimed me was Daniel's face looming over me, that cruel smile I remembered too well twisting his features into something monstrous.
Daniel
Daniel stood over Anna's crumpled form, his chest heaving with exertion and something else.
Satisfaction. Dark, visceral satisfaction flooded through his veins like a drug.
Blood trickled from her nose and the corner of her mouth, stark against her pale skin in the dim lamplight. Finally, she's mine again.