Page 30 of Shadows of Obsession
"You, of all people, should know that danger can lurk anywhere, at any time," he said, his voice low and unyielding. "After what you went through with your ex, you should be more vigilant."
His words hit like a slap.
The mention of Daniel sent a chill down my spine and made me flinch. A familiar wave of helplessness surged through me, one I had been fighting hard to keep buried. I didn't want to be defined by fear anymore. But here it was again, pressing down on my chest, making it harder to breathe.
"I can't spend my life looking over my shoulder," I murmured, barely louder than a whisper. "I refuse to let him control me, even if he's not around."
My hands trembled in my lap, subtle, but undeniable. The physical toll of my emotions always gave me away, no matter how hard I tried to hold it together.
Jaxon's expression softened. He looked away for a moment, then back at me. His hand hovered between us for a second, uncertain, before gently resting on my shoulder. I noticed the roughness of his palm, the calluses, the slight tremble in his fingers. The warmth of his touch seeped through the fabric of my shirt, grounding me.
"I get it," he said quietly, his voice gentler now, edged with something almost tender. "But it's okay to be cautious. After everything you've been through, it's natural to be a little jumpy."
His words reminded me I wasn't alone. That someone saw the scars I carried, even if they weren't visible.
I opened my mouth to respond, but my words caught in my throat as movement outside the truck caught my attention. My head turned sharply toward the sidewalk.
Connor and Morgan were approaching, deep in conversation, their body language relaxed and casual, a stark contrast to the thick tension hanging in the truck. Morgan was dressed impeccably, as always, in a cream-colored designer sundress. Gold jewelry glittered at her ears and wrists, pieces that probably cost more than my entire truck. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place despite the gentle breeze. She looked effortless. Untouched.
I envied them. Envied the ease in their steps, the way they moved through the world without the weight of past trauma trailing behind them like a shadow.
Connor's expression shifted as he neared. His easy stride slowed, concern sharpening his features as he took in the stiff line of Jaxon's shoulders and whatever he saw lingering in my eyes. His white button-down was slightly rumpled now, one sleeve pushed up higher than the other. He stepped up to the driver's side window, his tone tinged with concern.
"Everything okay?" he asked, his honey-colored eyes flicking between the two of us. "I got your call, sounded like something was up."
His brow furrowed as he studied Jaxon, clearly trying to read him. Then his gaze shifted to me. I met it with a practiced smile—polished, convincing. A mask I'd worn countless times since escaping Daniel. It seemed to satisfy him, though the furrow in his brow didn't completely disappear.
Jaxon didn't break eye contact with Connor. His voice was steady but flat.
"It's fine," he said, downplaying the tension. "Just checking how much longer you'd be."
But there was a strain under the words that couldn't be ignored. It was in the tight line of his jaw, the way he kept glancing at the rearview mirror, at the street behind us.
Connor hesitated, clearly not convinced, but nodded. "Alright," he said slowly. "I'm ready to head back anyway. How about you?"
There was an effort in his voice, a lightness, a casual tone meant to smooth over the rough edges in the air. It almost worked.
I could still feel the tension vibrating off Jaxon. The way his hands flexed on the steering wheel, the muscle ticking in his cheek, the occasional glance into the side mirror. He was far from relaxed, and though Connor and Morgan appeared untouched by whatever haunted Jaxon and me, that sense of unease still lingered, clinging like smoke.
Choosing not to dwell on it, I opened the truck door and stepped out, plastering on a smile that felt too tight.
"Yeah, we're all done," I said with a cheerful tone that didn't quite reach my eyes. My voice sounded too bright, too practiced. "How was lunch?"
Connor brightened, clearly eager to move past the moment. He launched into a summary of their meal—describing the dishes, the atmosphere of the restaurant, even a funny moment with the waiter. I smiled, nodded, and chimed in with laughter at the right moments.
But underneath it all, a quiet unease still tugged at the edges of my mind. A soft whisper that the shadows weren't gone. They were just waiting.
CHAPTER 10
Anna
Iperched on the weathered wooden fence, my gaze fixed on Connor as he guided one of the stallions around the training ring. The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the scene, illuminating the gleaming horse as it trotted gracefully, its muscles rippling with each powerful stride. Connor's expression was stern, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration beneath the shadow of his black cowboy hat as he directed the stallion through a series of intricate exercises. Each command he gave was subtle yet firm, his touch on the reins gentle but purposeful. He was preparing the horse for an upcoming show in Indiana, and he took his role seriously.
I admired how effortlessly Connor worked with the horses. It wasn't just skill; it was the bond he had with them. The way he moved his body, adjusting to the stallion's rhythm, was like a silent conversation. Even from a distance, I could sense his focus, almost palpable in the warm afternoon air. The way his hand occasionally brushed the horse's neck, a quiet gesture of encouragement, spoke volumes about their connection.
When the training session wound down, I hopped off the fence, my boots hitting the ground with a soft thud. A faint cloud of dust rose with each step as I headed toward the stable.
"I think I'm going to go for a ride on Choco," I called out, raising my voice just enough to be heard over the rustling leaves and distant neighing.