Page 122 of Shadows of Obsession

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—"