Page 45 of Shadows of Obsession

His shoulders were so tense I could see the muscles coiling beneath his shirt. When his hand stayed on my arm, I felt a slight tremor running through him, barely contained rage simmering just below the surface, held back by sheer force of will, or so I guessed.

The stranger—Jared—smiled. It was predatory and unsettling, revealing crooked, yellowed teeth. But it was his eyes that truly unsettled me. A malicious glint flickered there, something darker than mere arrogance. Something dangerous. It sent ice down my spine.

"Is that any way to greet your little brother?" he asked, his smirk widening.

His brother?

The revelation hit me like a physical blow. I stared at Jared with fresh eyes, searching for the resemblance. The similar builds, the facial structure, even those blue eyes—they all aligned. But where Jaxon's eyes held depth and carefully guarded emotion, Jared's held nothing but cold calculation and barely veiled malice.

I'd never heard Jaxon—or even Connor—mention a brother. Not once. And based on Jaxon's reaction, the taut muscles, the venom laced in his voice, there was clearly a reason for that silence.

Jared's gaze flicked between us, lingering on Jaxon's protective stance, his hand on my arm. His grin widened further as he leaned casually against the stair railing, feigning ease that clashed violently with the palpable hostility crackling in the air.

I placed my hand gently on Jaxon's back, feeling the rigid tension vibrating through his body. He was coiled tight, ready to spring. When he glanced back at me, his expression softened, just a fraction, concern flickering in his blue eyes.

I mouthed, "I'm okay," offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile, even though my stomach was churning.

Jaxon exhaled slowly, deliberately, like he was forcing himself to stay grounded. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, though his glare never left his brother.

The air between them practically sizzled with unspoken history. Years of something dark and twisted that I wasn't sure I wanted to understand.

"She's a pretty little thing, Jaxon," Jared said, leaning slightly to the side to catch a better look at me around his brother's shoulder. His voice was smooth, almost casual, but venomous underneath. "Much prettier than Nikki."

The blood drained from my face.

I felt Jaxon go stiff under my hand, his body locking up like he'd just been struck. The atmosphere changed, thickened. Charged with a volatile mix of grief and fury so raw it made my chest ache.

The cruelty of it, the deliberate way Jared had weaponized Nikki's name, twisting the blade with a smile, was nauseating. This wasn't sibling rivalry or some petty family feud. This was toxic. Broken.

My hand curled into a fist against Jaxon's back, gripping his shirt like I could anchor him to the moment, keep him from doing something he'd regret. My heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears.

Jaxon's jaw clenched, the muscle ticking visibly. His grip on my arm tightened. Not enough to hurt, just enough that I felt the storm inside him. When he looked at his brother, his expression was a carefully constructed mask of barely contained fury.

He drew a slow, trembling breath, his entire body taut with the effort of control.

"You need to leave," he said, each word heavy and deliberate, coated in restrained violence. "Now."

Jared's smirk stretched even wider, clearly enjoying the chaos he was stirring up. Feeding off it like some twisted emotional vampire.

"Oh, touchy, aren't we?" he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Lighten up. It was just a joke."

Joke. Right. Because mocking someone's murdered fiancée is hilarious.

But it wasn't a joke, and we all knew it. The tension was thick and suffocating, like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for the explosion.

Jaxon's grip on my arm loosened slightly, but he stayed close—his body still shielding mine, a barrier between me and whatever Jared was planning. I remained pressed against his back, ready to follow his lead. Trusting him.

I watched Jaxon's eyes narrow as he studied his brother, scanning for any sign of a move. His instincts were screaming; I could feel it in the tension radiating off him.

Then, suddenly, Jared's demeanor shifted. The smug, taunting edge dropped away, replaced by something almost serious.

"Look, I just want to talk," Jared said, his tone softening. "That's all."

The sudden shift gave me pause. It made Jaxon pause too. I felt the subtle change in his posture, more wary than ever, but slightly altered.

Jared had stepped back a few feet, his stance looser now, though something about it remained predatory. Like a snake sunning itself but still ready to strike. Despite the calm in his voice, every instinct in me screamed don't trust him.

Jaxon's hand dropped from my arm as he stepped forward, squaring off with Jared. I moved with him, keeping a steady hand on his back, a quiet reminder: I'm here. You're not alone.