Page 83 of His Secret Obsession
“Here you go, Miss Raddix.” His movements feel deliberately slow as he hands over a small stack of papers, still warm from the printer. His smile looks forced now, almost a littletoopolite. He opens his mouth to say something before shutting it again, and his eyes dart away. My stomach tightens, the hairs along my arms standing up as some internal warning bell goes off inside my head.
Maybe it’s just me. Maybe the captain has a tendency to be this awkward with everyone and I’m just now noticing?
I clear my throat and jerk my chin toward the door. “Thanks for your help. I’ll get going now.”
He nods, but I don’t miss the millisecond it takes his eyes to dart down to the papers in my hands. Or the slight crease in his brows, and the way his lips purse in thought.
What the hell am I going to find in this report?
The bell above the door dings as I exit the building, my eyes squinting into the unusually bright, sunlit winter day. Looking around, I spot a lone bench on the sidewalk and sit down. Even through layers of clothing, the metal is cold against my back. My hands already feel like frozen popsicles but, strangely enough, after years of procrastination, I don’t want to wait even one more second.
Cold dread crawls down my spine as I mentally prepare myself for the onslaught of memories that are perhaps better left in the dark. With a steadying breath, I peer down at the run sheet that details the worst day of my life. At first glance, it looks like what I imagine any ordinary report would. It has my name, date of accident, location, and vital signs. My throat tightens as I dig deeper, reading through the grisly details of how they cut the door off to pull me out. How they splinted my broken wrist and how they tried to staunch the flow of blood from various wounds. It describes my inability to remain fully conscious, my eyes occasionally flicking open but not able to focus on any one thing or person.
My entire body feels numb at the mention of two deceased bodies still trapped in the front seat.
Those deceased bodies were my parents who had just been conversing with me moments before.
And now I can’t breathe properly. I can’t breathe because all I can see is them and their unmoving bodies covered in blood as I listen to the sounds of sirens blaring in the distance. My heart jackhammers, my fingers trembling as I squeeze my eyes shut.
But still, I see it—falling snow, broken glass, and red.
Red everywhere.
My breathing turns choppy, panic fluttering in my belly. But I remember that warm hand clasping mine. The soothing presence of another human comforting me.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you now.”
“You’re going to live today—fight to live. You have so much life ahead of you. Don’t you dare give up.”
Remembering the day Jax talked me out of a panic attack after sliding off the road, I do my best to mimic the deep breathing exercise he taught me. Deep breath in. Exhale out.
I do this over and over again.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you, okay?”
“You’re being such a good girl for me, Maddie.”
That deep, soothing timbre envelopes me. The confident, self-assured rumble making me feel settled again. When my pulse no longer feels like it’s about to careen out of control, my eyelids flutter open. As I resume scanning over the report, I flip to the last page and spot a list of signatures scrawled haphazardly at the bottom. I don’t recognize the first two names.
But the third name makes everything around me freeze.
“This can’t be right. I would know if…I would know.”
Time speeds back up. My heart feels like it’s in my throat now, my blood running cold as I shake my head. A mix of conflicting emotions slam into me as I stare at the familiar name, my lips parted. I’m a whirlwind of disbelief, confusion, shock, and perhaps a little anger.
I’ve never even considered this possibility, have I?
“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” I mutter. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Quiet footsteps catch my attention, my head snapping up as I watch him approach. The man who quietly saved my life, and for some reason chose to keep that fact to himself. The scarred eyebrow that often arches with unspoken questions, the green eyes that have always felt a little too intimate, the confident gait of a man who knows exactly who he is. It hits me in the gut then, how he’s been right here this entire time. How familiar he is to me and how, despite my best intentions, I’ve fallen in love with him.
Jax stops a few feet away from me, legs widening as he stuffs his hands into a pair of dark Wranglers. He looks just as pensive and surly as ever, but the tightness around his eyes betrays his worry. I’ve never seen him look so…unsure of himself. He swallows, his Adam’s apple dipping once as the tip of his tongue glides along his bottom lip.
“It was you.”
He nods.
Maddison
