Page 113 of Shadows of Obsession

"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."