CHAPTER 39
Jaxon
I paced frantically back and forth in Connor's home office, my boots thudding heavily on the hardwood floor with each agitated step. The room felt suffocatingly small, the walls closing in as my mind raced with worst-case scenarios I desperately tried to shut out.
Where is she? Where the fuck is she?
Connor sat behind the computer desk, fingers flying over the keyboard. The rapid clicking filled the tense silence between us. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set with concentration and worry.
"This doesn't make any sense," Connor muttered, brow furrowed as he leaned back in the chair, staring at the screen with a mix of confusion and concern.
My heart leaped into my throat. "What is it?" I rushed out, my voice tight with barely contained panic. I moved behind the desk, leaning over his shoulder, eyes scanning the screen desperately for any clue to Anna's whereabouts.
I urged the screen to give us something. Anything.
"My Verizon account shows that the last place Anna's phone was located was on the property." Connor's words hung heavy in the air, their implications sending a chill down my spine despite the warmth of the house.
On the property. She's still here. She has to be here.
Connor stood abruptly from the desk, his chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound that made me flinch.
He reached for his phone, scrolling through contacts.
"I'm going to call Denny. Maybe he saw something, and Anna drove off somewhere else on the property. We can split up and look for her."
I nodded, jaw clenched so tight I could feel my teeth grinding together. Split up. Search. Find her. Action was better than standing here feeling helpless.
I followed Connor down the hall toward the front door, my mind cataloging every place on the massive property where Anna could be: the back pastures, the trails, the equipment sheds—
Before we reached the door, Connor veered toward the stairs, taking them two at a time toward his bedroom.
I watched him go, heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my temples and fingertips.
The adrenaline coursing through me made me jittery and on edge, like I could run a marathon or punch through a wall.
I focused on my thoughts. Stay focused. You trained for this.
Moments later, Connor emerged from the bedroom, a pistol clutched tightly in his hand. He met my worried gaze, eyes hard with the kind of resolve I recognized from my military days, the look of a man preparing for the worst.
"Better to be prepared," he said grimly, voice low and serious as he brushed past me toward the front door. "It just doesn't feel right."
I hummed my agreement, the knot of dread in my stomach tightening like a fist as I followed him outside. The cool night air hit my face like a slap. Sharp and bracing, carrying the scent of pine and earth and something ominous.
I made my way to my Jeep, mind still racing with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. Is it Daniel? Did he finally find her?
If he's hurt her, if he's touched her, I'll kill him. I will fucking kill him.
As Connor climbed into the passenger seat, I noticed him scrolling rapidly through his contacts again. Before I could start the engine, he held up a hand, signaling me to wait as he initiated a call.
"Sheriff? It's Connor Whitaker." His voice was tight with tension, the free hand gripping the armrest with white-knuckled intensity.
"I'm having a problem. We can't seem to find Anna anywhere.
Her truck is gone, and my phone company says the last location ping was here on the property.
Can you maybe check some town cameras to see if she drove through town for some reason? "
Connor nodded, his expression growing grimmer with each passing second as he listened to the sheriff's response. I watched him anxiously, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles had gone white, desperate for any information that could lead us to Anna.
In a gesture I was grateful for, Connor switched the phone to speaker mode, setting it on the center console so I could hear too. The sound of clicking keyboards and muffled mumbling emanated from the phone, each second feeling like an hour as we waited.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only thirty seconds, Sheriff Davies cleared his throat. His voice crackled through the speaker, official and careful.
"Connor, I do see her truck coming through town, but it doesn't look like her driving," Davies said, and my world tilted sideways. "It's a woman, brown hair, looks unhealthily thin. I'm sending you a screenshot from the camera feed now."
Not Anna. Someone else driving Anna's truck.
Connor's phone buzzed with an incoming message. He opened it quickly, fingers trembling as the image loaded, grainy but unmistakable, showing a thin, brown-haired woman behind the wheel of Anna's distinctive truck.
I leaned over, eyes widening as recognition struck. "That's her," I said, voice grave with certainty, cold with realization. "That's the guest we ran into earlier near the barn. No doubt about it."
Kim. She called herself Kim. Said she was here with her boyfriend.
Connor's face hardened with determination, grip tightening on the pistol until tension radiated through his entire body. "Sheriff, we need you out here now," he barked, voice leaving no room for argument. "Send backup, and hurry. I have a feeling we're going to need it."
As Connor hung up, he turned to me, eyes searching my face. "Did you see what cabin she was in?" he asked urgently.
Fuck.
"No, we went into the barn. I didn't see which one she went back to," I growled, frustration clawing at my insides like a living thing.
My fist shot out before I could stop it, punching the steering wheel.
The impact sent a dull ache through my knuckles, but I barely felt it beneath the rage and fear consuming me.
Stupid. Should have paid attention. Should have noticed.
Connor glanced at the time on his phone; the glowing numbers read 10:17 PM. We'd been searching for over an hour. Every second that passed was another second Anna was in danger.
"We could just go door to door and knock to see who answers," Connor suggested, his tactical mind working through the options. "Did she say anything about being here with anyone? Family or someone else?"
"A boyfriend," I answered shortly, jaw clenched as I started the Jeep. The engine roared to life, and I turned the vehicle toward the cluster of cabins, hands steady on the wheel despite the chaos in my mind. "She said her boyfriend was still sleeping."
Boyfriend. It has to be Daniel.
"We could split up?" Connor proposed as we pulled up near the cabins and shut off the engine. We exited simultaneously, the doors slamming behind us with sounds that seemed too loud in the quiet night.
"Not a bad idea," I nodded, already scanning the cabins for any sign of which one might be hiding Anna. "You start at the far end; I'll start at the close end. We meet in the middle."
Fast but thorough. Check every cabin.
We parted ways, our footsteps crunching on the gravel as we approached the cabins from opposite ends. I made my way to the first cabin, the one closest to where we'd parked, nearest to the barn where Anna had been working.
As I drew nearer, I immediately noticed that all the curtains were pulled shut, every window blocked.
That wasn't unusual for guests wanting privacy, but something about it felt wrong.
Even with the curtains closed, a faint light emanated from what looked like the living area, while the rest of the cabin appeared dim and lifeless.
Someone's awake. Or left a light on.
I stood silently outside the door, pressing my ear against the wood, straining to hear any sound from within. My breath sounded too loud in my own ears, my heartbeat a drum in my chest. But inside—nothing. Complete silence.
Why is it so quiet?
My eyes fell on the vehicle parked outside. A black SUV with Nevada plates that caught the moonlight. But it was the sticker on the back bumper that made my blood run cold, narrowing my vision to a single point of focus.
A moose. With the letters VT in the middle.
Vermont.
Anna was from Vermont, and so was Daniel. That had to be his car, even with Nevada plates. It was too much of a coincidence not to be.
It's him. Daniel. He's here. He has her.
Realization hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs and replacing it with ice-cold fury. Daniel had found her. Tracked her here to this place that was supposed to be safe, and he had her in that cabin.
Instantly, I crouched outside the door, my military training kicking in as I made myself a smaller target. My heart pounded in my chest as I reached up to try the handle, already knowing what I'd find.
Locked.
My mind raced, fingers fumbling through my pockets until I found my keys.
I had a spare for each cabin; Anna had made sure I had them when I'd started helping with turnovers and maintenance.
With trembling hands that I forced to steady, I sorted through the keys, the metal clinking softly in the quiet night, until I found the one with the matching cabin number etched into it.
Stargazer. Cabin three.
I needed my gun, needed to be prepared for whatever was on the other side of that door.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I made my way back to the Jeep as quietly as possible.
My footsteps were controlled, purposeful, relying on years of training that had taught me how to move silently.
I reached inside the center console, fingers closing around the familiar weight of the small revolver I always kept there.
The gun was loaded, I always kept it loaded, a habit from my Marine days that Anna had accepted without question. Its weight was both comforting and terrifying, a tool that could save Anna's life or end Daniel's, depending on what I found inside.
Slowly, I approached the cabin again, every sense heightened to maximum awareness.
I could hear my own breathing, feel the slight breeze against my skin, smell the pine and earth, and a faint scent of cigarette smoke somewhere nearby.
Every nerve in my body screamed at me to move faster, while my training insisted on caution.
Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.
I paused outside the door, heart hammering against my ribs hard enough to wonder if anyone inside could hear it. The revolver was clutched tightly in my right hand, finger resting alongside the trigger guard, not on the trigger yet. With my left hand, I carefully inserted the key into the lock.
One chance. You get one chance to do this right.
With one last deep breath, I turned the key slowly. The click of the lock disengaging sounded like a gunshot in the still night, echoing in my ears.
My mind raced with worst-case scenarios that churned my stomach and sent bile rising in my throat. What if I was too late? What if he'd already hurt her? What if she was—
I pushed the thoughts aside, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. I had to find Anna, get her out, no matter the cost. Even if it meant killing Daniel with my bare hands. Even if it meant going to prison for life.
She's worth it. She's worth everything.
As the door swung open on silent hinges, I stepped inside, revolver held steadily in a two-handed grip, finger moving to the trigger.
The cabin was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls from a single corner lamp.
The air was heavy with tension and something else.
Fear, maybe, or violence waiting to happen.
I moved forward cautiously, eyes scanning every corner, every hidden space, clearing the room with the systematic precision of someone who had done this a thousand times in combat zones. My heart was in my throat as I searched for any sign of Anna or her captor.
Living room clear. Kitchen clear. Bedroom—
And then I heard it. A muffled sound from the back bedroom, not quite a cry, not quite a sob, but unmistakably human.
Unmistakably Anna.
I'm coming, baby. Hold on. I'm coming.