Page 11

11

HONOR

The knock at the door comes mid-afternoon, pulling my attention from Laramie’s cot. Third day in this hospital. Sleep-deprived doesn’t even begin to cover it, and I’m pretty sure the term is in full swing for me now. But as I glance at her tiny face, peaceful and perfect, I know I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Come in,” I call.

Chase steps inside first, his presence as commanding as ever, but there’s a softer edge to his expression. “Someone’s here to see you,” he says.

Behind him, Oakley appears in the doorway, clutching a colorful bundle in his hands. His steps reluctant, and he keeps his gaze just shy of meeting mine. I figure he’s probably just as sleep-deprived as I am—sympathy exhaustion, maybe?

“Honor.” He steps inside but doesn’t cross the threshold.

“Get over here, you silly boy!” I laugh, opening my arms.

He comes forward, hugging me. “I missed you.”

Ethan briefly interrupts, “I’ll be right outside with Chase if you need me,” pointing at the door before leaving.

“How are you?” I ask, a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, all right.” Oakley shifts on his feet, presenting the blanket to me. “I, uh… brought something for Laramie.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “What is it?”

He unfolds the blanket, revealing a whimsical pattern. “It’s a llama blanket. I didn’t buy it or anything. There are heaps of them at Ethan’s house, and he said it was okay for me to take one,” he explains. “I thought, maybe it’d keep her warm.”

I reach out to touch it, downy and thick. “That’s really thoughtful of you, Oak. She’s going to love it.”

“Do you think she needs it now?” he asks, stretching his neck to peek at Laramie, but he keeps his distance.

“Maybe later. She’s already bundled up. Come closer.”

He glances at me like he’s searching for permission, then edges closer to the cot. His eyes widen as he peers at Laramie. “She’s so small,” he whispers, like speaking any louder might break her.

“They all start this way, you know. I’ll bet you did, too.”

He straightens, his eyes narrowing in mock offense. “No chance. I was never this tiny.”

“Sure you were. Everyone’s basically a potato with potential at the beginning.”

His lips twitch, almost forming a grin, but it fades as his gaze drifts back to Laramie. “Guess she’s got a lot of growing up to do, huh?”

“She does,” I reply, rubbing her belly, then shifts my attention back to Oakley. “How was your stay with Ethan?”

He shrugs, his hand hesitating just above Laramie’s cheek. “Fine.”

“Look, Laramie. It’s Oakley. Say hello to him,” I coax, hoping to lessen the unease hanging over him.

Oakley’s fingers barely brush her skin before she lets out a cry. He snatches his hand back like he’s touched a flame. “Oh, sorry. Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” I say, sliding an arm around his shoulder. With no siblings and a childhood surrounded by adults who never struck me as the nurturing type, it’s no wonder he looks so out of his depth. “It’s what babies do.”

Laramie’s cries build into something louder, her little face scrunching up as if she’s staging a protest. I scoop her up, holding her close. “Mommy’s here, sweet pea. Mommy’s here.”

Oakley shifts toward the table where the formula and baby supplies are stacked, his movements awkward and unsure. “Is she hungry?” he asks, he’s searching for some kind of direction.

“Maybe, but I just fed her.” I kiss her forehead, rocking her. It doesn’t seem to help.

Oakley shifts on his feet, glancing toward the door. “Honor, I might just pop outside. I need to talk to Ethan,” he mutters, already halfway out before I can respond.

“Hey,” I call after him, but he doesn’t stop. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

He nods, slipping out the door.

After wrestling with Laramie’s wails and flailing limbs, she finally calms, her tiny body going limp in my arms. But the reprieve is fleeting. A knock at the door jolts me.

“Yeah,” I call.

Chase’s head appears in the doorway, his expression cryptic but serious enough to set me on edge. “Is Oakley here?” he asks.

I frown, bouncing Laramie. “No. He went out—said he needed to talk to Ethan.”

Before I can finish, Ethan appears behind Chase. His movements brisk, like he’s braced for action.

My pulse spikes. “What’s going on?”

“We can’t find him,” Chase says.

The words hit me like a slap. For a moment, I just stare, unable to process it. ‘What?’ I want to scream, to demand why he’s even standing there instead of doing something. But Laramie starts fussing again, pulling me back. I cradle her closer, my fear bubbling over into frustration as I glare at Chase.

When I look at him again, the anger dims slightly, but the fear? That doesn’t go anywhere. I shove past him, the ache in my side be damned.

“Honor!” Chase grabs my arm, his grip firm enough to stop me. “You need to stay here.”

“Stay here? Are you kidding me?” I wrench my arm free, turning my fury on Ethan instead. “You were supposed to watch him!”

“I was,” Ethan says, stepping forward, his expression taut with guilt. “But Oakley… he found a way to get away from me.”

Frustration roars to life inside me, white-hot and suffocating. My hands clench around Laramie as I fight the urge to let loose every curse I’ve ever learned.

Chase steps closer. “Honor, don’t blame Ethan. If anyone’s at fault, it’s me.”

His words barely register over the pounding in my ears. My vision tunnels, my thoughts spiraling into worst-case scenarios. I clutch Laramie tighter, her tiny frame grounding me even as my mind races. The thought claws its way in, unbidden and merciless: if Oakley is back in Damon’s hands?—

“God, no,” I whisper, shaking my head violently. I can’t even finish the thought. “You’d better start to get going, gents!” I say frustratingly.

“We will, but promise me you’ll stay here with Laramie,” Chase says, his tone maddeningly even. “We’ll bring him back, Honor. You have my word.”

But his promise feels like air. He’d better bring him back, because if he doesn’t, there’s not a force on this earth that’ll stop me.