Page 36 of Shadows of Obsession

"It's okay, boy," I whispered, stroking his soft fur. But the words felt hollow.

Daniel's face surfaced in my mind. The thought of him lurking somewhere in the dark, waiting to strike, sent a shiver down my spine. I had to stay strong, keep my composure, but the weight of uncertainty pressed down, crushing. His cruelty, the scars he left on my body and soul, threatened to overwhelm me.

The big, empty house felt more foreboding by the minute. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustling branch outside, sounded like a warning. I wrapped my arms around myself, breath shallow as anxiety clawed inside me.

Finally, the need for something tangible, something real to hold onto, drove me upstairs. Connor kept a pistol in his nightstand. It was meant for emergencies. If ever there was a time, it was now.

I moved with determined strides, each step echoing through the quiet house. Chester followed, his nails clicking softly on the hardwood, a small comfort in the silence.

At the top of the stairs, I hesitated for a heartbeat. Would I even know how to use it? Would it make me feel safer? But facing Daniel unarmed was no option. I steeled myself. Anything was better than feeling helpless again.

With grim determination, I pushed open Connor's door. The room was neat, masculine. A large bed with a dark blue comforter was framed by matching nightstands and a simple dresser. A few framed photos of horses and family hung on the walls.

I crossed to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer.

The gun felt heavy and unfamiliar in my hands as I slowly pulled it out and cradled it in my open palms. The cold metal was a stark reminder of the danger surrounding me, but also a symbol of power, a way to reclaim control over my own fate. I checked it the way I'd seen in movies, making sure the safety was on, confirming it was loaded. It was.

I settled onto Connor's bed, the gun resting in my lap like a protective charm. Chester jumped up besideme, curling into a tight ball against my thigh. The unfamiliar weight of the pistol, combined with the swirling thoughts in my mind, made it impossible to find a comfortable position.

I tried to focus on my breathing, counting each inhale and exhale, hoping the rhythm would steady my racing heart. But every creak and groan from the house sent me snapping awake, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement. Shadows twisted and shifted, taking on shapes of their own in the dim light spilling from the lamp on Connor's dresser.

Minutes stretched into an hour. My thoughts drifted to Connor and Jaxon. I prayed they were safe, that they'd find Choco and return without incident.They were capable, but Daniel's twisted rage haunted me, looping relentlessly in my mind. The thought of them facing him alone, caught in the crosshairs of his vengeance, squeezed my heart with a sickening dread.

The house settled around me, each creak and pop of old wood made me jump. Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the windows, and I gripped the gun tighter. Chester stirred, lifting his head to look toward the door, his ears twitching.

"What is it, boy?" I whispered, voice barely audible.

He stared long and hard at the door, then huffed and settled back down. False alarm. Just the house settling. Just the wind. Just my imagination.

But I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, unseen eyes tracking my every move. The same prickling awareness that had put Jaxon on edge back in town.

I glanced at the clock on Connor's nightstand. How long had they been gone? An hour? Two? Time felt strange—stretched thin, distorted by fear. Every minute without word from them felt like an eternity.

My phone lay on the nightstand beside the clock. I picked it up, checking for messages. Nothing. The screen's blue light illuminated my face in the darkening room, and I quickly dimmed it, suddenly afraid the glow might give away my position.

I dismissed the idea that I was being paranoid. Someone had been at Jaxon's cabin. Someone had cut Choco loose. Someone had been watching us in town. The evidence outweighed the doubt.

Eventually, fatigue began to wear me down, the adrenaline fading into exhaustion. My eyelids grew heavy, and despite every effort to stay alert, my head nodded forward. The steady rhythm of Chester's breathing beside me, the warmth of his body, the softness of Connor's bed, it all conspired to lull me into a light, restless sleep.

But even then, Daniel haunted me.

I was back in his house, the walls closing in. His hands bruising and possessive on my arms. His voice whispered in my ear, telling me I belonged to him, that I'd never escape, that I was his forever. I tried to run, but my legs wouldn't move. Tried to scream, but no sound came out.

Daniel's face loomed closer, his eyes dark and empty. His smile was cruel. "Did you really think you could get away from me, Anna? Did you really think you could hide?" His grip tightened on my arms, and I felt myself falling, tumbling through darkness, deeper into the nightmare.

The gun remained in my lap. A cold, deadly guardian in the waking world, powerless to protect me in sleep.

I slept fitfully, restless, while somewhere in the darkness, Connor and the others searchedfor my horse.

CHAPTER 11

Jaxon

My heart sank as I took in the sight of Anna, curled up on Connor's bed, the pistol clutched in her lap like a lifeline. Even in sleep, her brow was creased with worry, her lips pressed into a tight line of tension. Seeing her this vulnerable and afraid sent a pang of sympathy through my chest, followed by a fierce surge of protectiveness. I wanted to shield her from the horrors that haunted her dreams.

I remembered how she had looked when she arrived at my cabin earlier that day, wearing her fitted jeans and that soft yellow blouse that brought out the warmth in her skin. The sunlight had played off her blonde hair, creating an almost halo effect that made her blue eyes sparkle. She had seemed so vibrant then, so full of life and determination, even though she was clearly hesitant about being there. The contrast to her current state was stark, a painful reminder of the toll fear and trauma could take on even the strongest people.

Now, watching her sleep in the pale glow of moonlight filtering through Connor's window, I saw only vulnerability. She seemed small, lost in a dreamscape where safety felt elusive. The urge to gather her in my arms, to offer her the comfort and protection she so desperately needed, was almost overwhelming. I held back, knowing such an intimate gesture might not be welcome. Especially not from me.