Page 35

35

HONOR

I step out of the store after paying for the gas, the ding of the door chime fading behind me. Out of nowhere, I see it—the presence I’d dismissed as paranoia solidifies, stark and undeniable.

“Hello, Honor. Long time no see,” a familiar voice drawls from behind me. The cold press of metal nudges against my spine.

My jaw tightens. Damn it. Out of all the places, this deserted gas station had to be the perfect hunting ground. No witnesses. No working cameras—not that we’re standing anywhere near one. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“I can say the same to you, Patch,” I reply, forcing my voice to stay.

Damon’s right-hand man isn’t here for snacks or small talk. And I have no doubt he’s come prepared to make this encounter as short and bloody as necessary.

“Walk,” he orders, shoving me forward.

I glance around the lot, but Patch knows the drill too well—one weapon out in the open to make his point, but I’d bet my Glock he’s strapped with more. Always is. Stoneborn Circle’s golden rule: come armed to the teeth.

“Don’t make a scene,” he mutters. “There’s so much you don’t know.”

His words cut deeper than the weapon digging into my back. What does Damon know? What does Patch know? Has he gotten to Laramie? Or Oakley?

He steers me toward the corner of the lot. His hands are all over me, patting me down.

“Still carrying this, huh?” he says, holding up my Glock with a smirk.

“Gotta protect myself from scumbags like you,” I bite back.

His grin widens, unbothered. “Move,” he snaps, shoving me toward his truck.

I stumble but don’t resist. Not yet. Not until I know exactly what I’m dealing with. My mind races, calculating, as I climb into the passenger seat.

“How the fuck did you find me?” I demand, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

Patch chuckles. “Huh. Damon called it. Said you’d ask that first thing.” He shifts in his seat, smug as ever. “Your man cracked. Pain’s a funny thing—it makes even the toughest guys fold.”

No. What have they done to Chase?

And Damon’s out of jail? I knew he’d get out eventually, but this fast?

“You lying piece of shit!” The words burst from me, refusing to believe. But they can’t drown out the fear tightening in my chest.

Oh, Chase.

It doesn’t surprise me that he’s been looking for me and uncovered Canada.

But he wouldn’t give me up.

Would he?

Patch smirks, feeding off my silence. “Stone’s dealing with him as we speak. So, you’d better play nice.”

He could be bluffing, though I shouldn’t assume. But for now, I’ll treat it like the lie it might be, even as the thought gnaws at the edges of my control.

“What do you want?” I grind the words out.

“Tell me where Oakley and Damon Jr. are,” he says, the pretense of politeness long gone.

Damon Jr. He still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know about my baby being a girl. He’s not as informed as he wants me to believe. But it doesn’t matter. Not really. Damon has found me, it’s only a matter of time before he gets to Oakley—and Laramie.

“Not gonna happen,” I say flatly, meeting Patch’s eyes with all the defiance I can muster.

“Then your Chase will die, Honor. And after that? It’s only a matter of time before we find those kids. Whether you live long enough to see that, well… that’s up to Damon.”

I sag forward, letting my shoulders slump. My head drops, and my arms hang uselessly. I sigh, just loud enough for him to see I’m at his disposal. “Fine,” I murmur.

Patch grins, his victory flashing in his eyes as he starts the engine. “Good girl.”

“On one condition,” I add, lifting my head just enough for him to catch the fire in my eyes.

My hand darts to my boot, fingers curling around the cold, hard handle of the knife I’d hidden there. Patch was cocky—too cocky to be thorough, underestimating how much I learned from the Circle. A rookie mistake for someone who should’ve known better.

Before he can react, I drive the blade into his chest with every ounce of strength I have. His eyes widen in shock, a guttural sound tearing from his throat as he staggers back.

“You’re not coming with me!” I spit, jumping out of the truck and running back to my car.

My knuckles ache as I clutch the wheel, my foot slamming the gas as I race toward Aunt Beth’s house. The line connects, and his voice bursts through the speaker.

“Ethan!”

“Honor? Honor! Where are you?”

“North,” I bark, staying vague.

“Shit. Is Chase with you?”

“Why would he be?” I snap.

“Honor,” Ethan’s tone drops, urgent and raw. “Is he with you?”

“No! He’s not!”

There’s a pause, before Ethan continues, “Chase was looking for you, but—we can’t find him. His car was found down south. Mangled. From the state of it…” He exhales hard, frustration bleeding through the line. “I think Chase might be hurt. Bad.”

Cold dread knots deep inside. So Patch wasn’t bluffing about Chase. He was right: there’s a lot I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. Whether Chase caved or not, Ethan won’t. He’d die before betraying Oakley and Laramie. I have to trust him.

“I’m in Cranbrook. Canada. Ethan, I need you here.”

“Hang tight. I’ll be there in three.”

“Three?” My throat tightens. “You’re close?”

“Hours, Honor. Three hours. I’m still down south looking for Chase.”

“Three fucking hours?” I slam the wheel with my palm. “I don’t care what you do. Just get here. Now!”

Ethan grumbles something under his breath. “Okay, okay! Gimme an hour.”

When I reach Aunt Beth’s house, the groceries in the back seat are forgotten. I don’t waste a second as I step inside, scanning the room until my eyes land on Oakley.

“Are you okay?” I ask, crouching to his level.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Why are you acting so weird today?”

“Stay inside, okay? Stay close to Laramie.” I brush a hand over his shoulder. “Go and get to her.”

“What’s going on?” Aunt Beth probes.

“Stay put,” I say, moving quickly from room to room, my eyes darting to the windows to scan the yard outside.

“Honor,” she presses, stepping closer. “What is it? What’s happening?”

“I have to go, but help is coming.” I refuse to explain further, knowing it’ll only make things worse.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel pulls me back outside, where a familiar figure steps out of a vehicle.

“Honor!” Ethan calls.

Oakley is faster than me in getting to him. “Ethan!”

“Hey, Oak.”

“Go back inside,” I say to Oakley.

“Listen to her,” Ethan says.

I step closer to Ethan. “Guard them.”

“Where are you going?” he asks, his expression shifting.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But guard Oakley and Laramie with your life. Do you hear me? And if you want Chase alive, don’t come looking for me.”

He hesitates, but I don’t wait for a response. My path is set. If Damon wants me, he’ll get me—but I won’t go down without a fight.