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She hadn’t been there to defend him. To save him. It was her responsibility. She was the strong one, yet she had failed, and Mathew, with his shining curls and his love of life, had paid the ultimate price. Jaxon didn’t want to move, didn’t think she could. But then her mind seemed to go mercifully blank, and she was able to drag herself back up the wall and proceed down the hall to her mother’s bedroom. She already knew what she would find. She told herself she was prepared.

This time the door was wide open. Jaxon forced herself to look in. Rebecca lay crumpled on the floor. She knew it was her mother by the mop of blond hair that spilled out like a halo around the crushed head. The rest of her was too mangled and bloody for recognition. Jaxon couldn’t pull her gaze away. Her throat was closing, strangling her. She couldn’t breathe.

She heard a sound. The hint of a sound really, but it was enough to trigger her years of training. She leaped to one side, whirling to face her stepfather. His hands and arms were wet with blood, his shirt splattered and stained. He was smiling, his face serene, his eyes warm with welcome.

“They’re gone now, honey. We won’t ever have to listen to their whining again.” Tyler held out a hand to her, clearly expecting her to take it.

Jaxon backed a cautious step down the hall. She didn’t want to alarm Tyler. He didn’t seem to notice he had blood all over him. “I’m supposed to be in school, Uncle Tyler.” Her voice didn’t sound natural even to her own ears.

A sudden scowl crossed his face. “You haven’t called me Uncle Tyler since you were eight years old. What happened to Daddy? Your mother turned you against me, didn’t she?” He was moving toward her.

Jaxon stayed very quiet, very still, a look of innocence on her face. “No one could ever turn me against you. That would be impossible. And you know Mom doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

Tyler relaxed visibly. He was close enough to touch her. Jaxon couldn’t allow that; her tremendous self-discipline would not extend far enough to let him touch her with the blood of her family on his hands. She struck without warning, jabbing a fist straight into his throat, kicking his kneecap hard. The moment she connected, Jaxon turned and ran. She didn’t look back once. She didn’t dare. Tyler was trained to respond despite being injured. In any case, she was very small compared to her stepfather. Her blows might stun him but would never incapacitate him completely. With luck her kick might have broken his knee, but she doubted it. Jaxon ran through the house and straight out the door. Rebecca had always liked the protection of living on the naval base, and Jaxon was grateful now. She screamed at the top of her lungs, running straight across the street to Russell Andrews’s house.

Russell’s wife, Bernice, rushed out to meet her, distress on her face. “What is it, dear? Are you hurt?”

Russell joined them, circling Jaxon’s slender shoulders with one arm. “Is your mother ill?” He knew better; he knew Jaxon. She was always a child in complete control, calm under fire, always thinking. If Rebecca were ill, Jaxon would have called for medical aid. Right now her face was so pale, she looked like a ghost. There was horror in her eyes, terror in her expression. Russell glanced across the street at the silent house with its door wide open. The wind was blowing, the air crisp and cold. For some unknown reason, the house gave him the creeps.

Russell started across the street. Jaxon caught his arm. “No, Uncle Russell, not by yourself. You can’t save them. They’re already dead. Call the MPs.” .

“Who’s dead, Jaxon?” Russell asked quietly, knowing Jaxon wouldn’t lie.

“Mathew and my mother. Tyler killed them. He told Mom he killed my father, too. He’s been so strange and violent lately. He hated Mother and Mathew. I tried to tell you, but none of you would believe me.” Jaxon was sobbing, her hands over her face. “You wouldn’t listen to me. None of you would listen.” She felt so sick, her stomach rebelling, her mind replaying the scenes she’d just seen until she thought she might go insane. “There was so much blood. He gouged out Mathew’s eyes. Why would he do that? Mathew was only a little boy.”

Russell pushed her toward Bernice. “See to her, honey. She’s going into shock.”

“He killed everyone, my entire family. He took everyone away from me. I didn’t save them,” Jaxon said softly. Bernice hugged her tightly. “Don’t worry, Jaxon, you’re with us.”

*****

Jaxon, Seventeen years old

“Hey, beautiful.” Don Jacobson leaned down to ruffle Jaxon’s mop of wild blond hair. He tried not to act too possessive. Jaxon always shot down anyone who tried to get close to her. She had a wall erected so high around her, no one seemed to be able to break into her world. Since the death of her family, Don had seen her laugh only with Bernice and Russell Andrews and their daughter, Sabrina. Sabrina was two years older than Jaxon and home for spring break. “Where you off to in such a hurry? Master-Chief told me your times were better than his new recruits.’”

Jaxon smiled rather absently. “My times are always better than his new recruits’ every time he gets a new group. I’ve been in training my entire life. I’d better be good, or Master-Chief would have thrown me out a long time ago. Too bad women can’t serve in the SEAL. It’s the only thing I’m suited for. I graduated early with so many college credits, and now I have no idea what I want to do.” She shoved a hand carelessly through her hair, tousling it even more. “I’m younger than most of the other students, but, to tell you the truth, I feel so much older than most of them, sometimes I want to scream.”

Don had a burning desire to hold her close, to comfort her. “You’ve always been smart, Jaxx. Don’t let anyone get to you.” He knew her distress was really because she couldn’t get over the trauma of what had happened to her family. How could she? He doubted if anyone could. “So, where are you running off to?”

“Sabrina is home, and we’re going to the movies tonight. I promised I wouldn’t be late this time.” Jaxon made a face. “I’m always late when I come to the training center. I never seem to get out of here on time.” The training course was the one place her mind was so occupied with other things that she couldn’t think, couldn’t remember anything else. She worked herself hard physically, keeping the demons at bay for just a little while.

Jaxon hadn’t felt safe in so long, she couldn’t remember what it was like to get a good night’s sleep. Tyler Drake was still out there somewhere, hiding. She knew he was close by; she felt him watching sometimes. Only Russell believed her when she told him. Russell knew her now. Jaxon didn’t give in to her imagination. She wasn’t prone to hysterics. She had some kind of very strong sixth sense that warned her when danger was close. She had trained beside Tyler for years. If she identified a sign as his, Russell believed her absolutely.

“What show?” Don asked. “I haven’t been to a good film in a long time.” He was blatantly fishing for an invitation to go along.

Jaxon didn’t seem to notice. She shrugged, suddenly distracted. “I’m not sure. Sabrina was going to choose it.” Her heart was beginning to pound. It was crazy. She was standing out in the open with a boy she had known all her life, yet she felt detached, far away, and peculiarly alone. Darkness was spreading within her, and with it a terrible dread.

Don did touch her then. She had gone so still and pale, he was afraid for her. “Jaxon? Are you sick? What is it?”