Page 19 of Shadows of Obsession

I watched her go, my mind churning over everything I'd just seen. That flinch. The walls she'd thrown up so quickly. The way she'd stood her ground even when she was clearly uncomfortable.

She was hiding something. Running from something. Someone.

And whatever it was, it had left marks. The kind that didn't show on the surface but ran deep nonetheless.

As she climbed the steps, I stood there in the doorway, questions piling up faster than I could process them. Connor obviously knew her story, trusted her enough to offer her sanctuary. That should've been enough for me.

Should've been.But I couldn't shake the image of that flinch, couldn't stop wondering what kind of hell she'd escaped to end up here. And why, despite my better judgment and every instinct telling me to keep my distance, I felt this pull to understand.

Let it go, Mercer. Not your problem.But even as I told myself that, even as I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, I knew I was lying to myself.

Anna was broken, that much was clear from the carefully constructed walls and the shadows in her eyes.

The question was: who had broken her?

And why did the thought of it make my hands curl into fists?

CHAPTER 6

Anna

Isat in the den, my body sinking into the plush cushions of the couch as I absently watched some trending Netflix show I couldn't have named if someone asked. Chester was curled up beside me, his warm fur a comforting presence against my leg. My fingers trailed through his soft coat, the repetitive motion soothing in a way I desperately needed. The background noise of the TV was a lulling distraction, helping me drift away from the thoughts that never quite left me alone.

It had only been two weeks since I'd arrived at Connor's, but already I was starting to feel something I hadn't felt in months, something almost like safety. Like maybe I could breathe here. Like maybe the walls weren't closing in.

Chester snored contentedly beside me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The show droned on, its dialogue fading into background noise. Neither of us noticed the front door opening and closing with a soft click.

Then the TV screen went black mid-scene.

Just like that. One second there was light and movement and sound—the next, darkness.

And in that darkness, reflected on the screen, was a shadowy silhouette. A figure standing in the archway. Looming. Watching.

Him.

My pulse exploded, pounding in my ears like a deafening drumbeat. Every nerve in my body screamed danger as panic seized my heart in an iron grip. I gasped and tried to leap off the couch, but my legs tangled in the knitted blanket I'd wrapped around myself.

Get away. Run. NOW.

I stumbled forward, my balance thrown off by the fabric constricting my legs. The world tilted, and I was falling. Falling toward the glass coffee table, its sharp edges glinting in the low light like teeth.

Chester sprang off the couch, barking wildly, his protective instincts kicking in. My hands shot out instinctively to break my fall, bracing for the inevitable impact. For the shattering of glass, for the searing pain.

"Anna!"

Connor's voice sliced through my panic, and then his arms were around me, strong and steady, catching me before I hit the table. He held me upright, his grip firm but careful.

Chester kept barking, hackles raised and teeth bared as he positioned himself in front of us. A low growl rumbled in his throat, ready to defend against whatever threat he sensed.

My breaths came in shallow, rapid gasps. My entire body shook like a leaf in a windstorm, adrenaline flooding my system so fast I felt dizzy with it. I looked up at the men—plural—and for a heart-stopping moment, I couldn't place where I was.

The lines blurred. Past and present merged into one suffocating nightmare.

Daniel finding me in Kansas.

Daniel blocking the door in Vermont before I left.

Daniel's hands on me, his voice in my ear telling me I was his—that I'd never escape him—