CHAPTER 40 #2
Daniel moved fast, whipping his elbow backward into Jaxon's face. I heard the sickening crack of contact and saw Jaxon's head snap back. His grip loosened just enough—
The knife plunged into Jaxon's side.
"No!" The scream tore from my damaged throat, raw and desperate.
Jaxon grunted in pain, his face twisting, but he held firm, clamping down on Daniel's wrist to stop the blade from going deeper. Blood bloomed across his shirt, spreading fast.
With a brutal punch that landed with devastating force, Jaxon sent Daniel crashing to the floor. The knife slipped from Daniel's hand and clattered to the ground. I watched, terrified. Don't let him—
Daniel's gaze darted between Jaxon, now clutching his wounded side with blood seeping between his fingers, and me, still bound and helpless on the bed. I saw the calculation in his eyes, the twisted determination.
Daniel lunged for the knife, fingers wrapping around the handle. And then, in a movement that seemed to happen in slow motion, he threw himself toward me, the blade poised to strike.
This is it. He's going to kill me.
I couldn't even flinch away, couldn't move, could only watch death coming for me.
The sound of a gunshot ripped through the room, so loud in the confined space that my ears rang immediately. I flinched, eyes squeezing shut instinctively as something warm and wet sprayed across my face and chest.
A heavy thud shook the floor.
Silence.
I opened my eyes slowly, afraid of what I'd see.
Daniel's body lay crumpled on the floor mere inches from the bed, so close I could have touched him if my hands were free. Blood pooled beneath his head, spreading across the hardwood in a dark, viscous puddle. The knife had fallen from his lifeless fingers. My mind reeled.
Is he actually dead? I couldn't process it, couldn't fully comprehend that the nightmare was finally over.
Then Jaxon was there, stumbling to my side, hands working frantically to cut away the ropes that bound me. His movements were urgent despite the pain radiating from his wounded side, despite the blood still flowing from the knife wound.
"Anna... Anna, baby, I've got you. You're okay. You're safe now." His voice was rough, tight with emotion and pain.
As the last of the restraints fell away, feeling rushed back into my numb limbs in painful tingles, I threw my arms around his neck, clinging to him like a lifeline, like he might disappear if I let go.
Jaxon lifted me from the bed, cradling me against his chest as he carried me away from Daniel's body, away from the blood and the horror. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.
We only made it a short distance, just through the bedroom doorway into the hall, before Jaxon's strength gave out. The blood loss from his injury was taking its toll. I felt his legs buckle, felt him sliding down the wall.
"Jax—" Panic seized me as he lowered himself to the floor, his back resting against the wall with me still clutched in his arms.
I could feel the warmth of his blood seeping through his shirt, soaking into my skin. A new kind of fear gripped my heart—sharper, more terrible than anything Daniel had ever done to me. No.
With trembling hands that barely cooperated, I tore the remnants of my shirt from my body.
The fabric was already ruined, stained with my blood, Daniel's, and now Jaxon's.
I balled the tattered cloth and pressed it firmly against his wound.
The once light-colored material quickly turned crimson as it absorbed the flowing blood.
Jaxon winced at the pressure, his face going pale, but I couldn't let up. I had to stem the bleeding. I had to keep him from slipping away.
"Stay with me," I begged, my voice breaking. "Jaxon, please. Stay with me. Don't you dare leave me now."
My other hand found his face, cupping his cheek with a touch meant to be tender, though it trembled with fear. My thumb brushed over his skin, wiping away cold beads of sweat. He was so pale. Too pale.
I leaned in close, our foreheads nearly touching, close enough to feel his shallow breaths against my skin. "Open your eyes, Jaxon. Look at me, please," I whispered, my voice cracking. "You have to stay awake, okay? Help is coming. Just stay with me."
His eyelids fluttered, gaze struggling to focus on my face. Even through the pain and blood loss, while his life was literally draining out of him, he managed a weak nod. A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, strained but determined. It made my heart clench. Liar. Beautiful liar.
The sound of the door bursting open shattered the moment, the wood slamming against the wall with a bang that made me flinch. On pure instinct, I threw myself over Jaxon, shielding him with my own body even though I was half-naked, covered in blood, and barely conscious.
But when I looked up, wild-eyed and ready to fight with my bare hands if I had to, I saw Connor standing in the doorway.
His eyes were wide with shock and horror as he took in the scene.
Me covered in blood, Jaxon bleeding out, and Daniel's body sprawled in a spreading pool of blood through the open bedroom door.
"Connor," I gasped, relief flooding me so intensely it felt painful.
In an instant, he was beside us, dropping to his knees with a heavy thud, helping to support Jaxon's weight. His hands were steady and capable, even though I could see the fear lurking in his eyes.
"Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you guys?" Connor asked, his voice thick with worry and disbelief. His gaze flicked between Jaxon and me, cataloging injuries with the efficiency of someone trying not to panic, before darting back to Daniel's motionless form.
I shook my head, unable to find words for the horror we'd just endured.
My throat was tight, my mind fractured. "He was stabbed, Connor," I managed, my voice trembling with the effort of holding back sobs.
"We need to get him help. Please. Please, he's bleeding so much—" The sight of his blood was overwhelming. There was too much.
Connor nodded, expression grim but focused.
"The ambulance is already on the way. I called the sheriff before we started searching for you, and they sent help.
" He squeezed my bare shoulder, and only then did I fully realize I was sitting in just my bra, covered in cuts and blood.
"They should be here any minute. Just keep pressure on the wound. "
Pressure. Right. Keep pressure.
I adjusted my grip on the makeshift bandage, pressing harder even as Jaxon groaned softly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I know it hurts, but I have to—"
Shifting carefully, I gathered Jaxon into my arms, cradling his head against my chest. I pressed my lips to his clammy forehead, too cold, and murmured words of comfort that probably made no sense.
"You're going to be okay. You're going to be fine.
Help is coming. Just hold on. Please hold on.
" Please don't leave me. I can't do this without you.
Jaxon's hand found mine, his fingers weakly intertwining. His grip was so faint, so fragile when it had always been so strong. I clung to that connection, to the feel of his skin against mine, as if it were a lifeline. As if I could keep him here through sheer force of will.
In the distance, sirens wailed, growing louder with each passing second. Help was coming. It was really coming. Faster. Please be faster.
But as the moments passed, seconds that felt like hours, Jaxon's grip grew weaker still. His breaths turned shallow, more labored, each inhale costing him more. Cold terror dug icy claws into my heart.
"Jaxon, talk to me," I begged, voice barely controlled hysteria.
I needed to keep him engaged, to give him a reason to hold on.
"What were you going to tell me earlier, before you left?
At the barn—you started to say something.
What was it?" Keep him awake. Keep him talking. Don't let him slip away.
His eyes fluttered open again, meeting mine with so much love and tenderness that it stole what little breath I had left.
"That I love you," he whispered, his words barely audible over the sirens.
Tears spilled hot down my cheeks, mixing with the blood and sweat. My heart felt like it was breaking and mending all at once.
"I love you too," I breathed against his ear, pressing my lips to his temple, his cheek, anywhere I could reach. "I love you so much. You hear me? I love you, and you're going to be okay. You have to be okay."
Because I wouldn’t survive losing him.
His hand squeezed mine one more time, so weak and barely there, but there. A promise. An anchor.
The sirens were right outside now, so loud they made my ears ring. Red and blue lights flashed through the windows, painting the walls in frantic colors. Boots thundered up the porch steps. Voices shouted—controlled chaos.
"In here!" Connor yelled, strong and commanding. "We need help in here, now!"
But I couldn't look up. I couldn't take my eyes off Jaxon's face. I kept pressure on his wound with one hand while the other cradled his face, my forehead pressed to his.
"Stay with me," I whispered one more time, a prayer, a plea, and a command all in one. "Just a little longer. They're here. Just hold on." Please.
And in that moment, with Jaxon's blood on my hands and his life hanging by a thread, with Daniel's body cooling on the floor behind us and sirens wailing outside, I made a silent vow.
If Jaxon survived this, when he survived this, I would never waste another second. Never hold back another word. Never let fear keep me from showing him exactly how much he meant to me.
Because I'd learned tonight what I should have known all along.
Life was too short. Too fragile. Too precious.
And love—real, true, fight-through-hell-for-you love—was worth everything.