Page 37

37

CHASE

I dangle in defeat, my body pulling itself apart, muscle by muscle. The sting of open wounds blends with the ache of betrayal, one far worse than the physical: the way Honor looks at Damon.

How? How can she believe I sold her out? That I led Damon to her doorstep?

And it doesn’t stop there. I haven’t forgotten—she still thinks I murdered her father.

Damon stays silent, struggling to piece together the answer himself. Bet he still hasn’t figured out who Honor really is. Details—faces, names, words—they’re not the kind of thing he bothers with.

Honor, as if dropping breadcrumbs for Damon, says, “Kalispell. Bullseye.”

“Damn it, Samson!” Damon roars, bitter realization filling his eyes. “Don’t tell me you left a witness.”

Honor says to him, “I stuck with you to get close to him. To give me a name. In a way, you helped me—just not how I expected.”

Damon shakes his head, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Honor, Honor. I really underestimated you. But hey, I’m glad you’ve got your priorities straight. He’s all yours,” He steps back to give Honor a clear shot at me.

I can’t figure out what her intention is. If her plan is to kill me, she’ll succeed—but then what? Damon will destroy her, dragging Oakley and Laramie into the Circle’s hell, a life they never deserved.

If she’s bluffing—who’s she trying to save here? She has only a single shot before either Tommy or Damon takes her out. Then I’ll be next.

Nothing good can come out of this.

But I’ve got to try. “Damon. You said it, you saw me as a brother. A lot has happened since, and I know there’s no room for the both of us in this world. And it’s clear now who’s gonna go,” I slur, the words spilling out of my swollen, blood-filled mouth. “But I’m begging you—for the Stoneborn blood we once shared—grant me one last wish. Be a father to your children, and let Honor be their mother.”

“Touching,” Honor says evenly, this time her arms straighten, the gun steady in her hands. She calls out to Damon, “Let him loose, so I can shoot him when he’s kneeling.”

“Honor…” I murmur, though the words likely don’t reach her. They’re too soft, and she’s too far.

Damon’s gaze locks onto her. “You’re dead serious, aren’t you?” His voice simmers in disbelief.

“Let him loose, Damon. Let me do to him what he did to my father!” she insists.

Damon barely acknowledges her, something makes him shift his focus to me. “You know, Chase, I’ll honor your wish. No pun intended.” He lets out a short laugh. “This moment? It’s going to make a great story for little Damie. God, I can’t wait to meet my boy.”

Honor’s mouth tilts in a faint smile. “You won’t meet her .”

A subtle shift flickers across her face, one I pray Damon doesn’t catch.

“Because you’ll be in hell!” she shouts, spinning on her heel and leveling her aim at him.

Tommy moves without hesitation, throwing himself in front of Damon just as the shot is fired. The impact sends him stumbling, his body absorbing the blow meant for the man who has done nothing but take from the world. Blood spreads across his chest, his eyes filled with a twisted sense of duty as he collapses. The blind loyalty of a Stoneborn.

Raising himself behind Tommy’s lifeless form, Damon levels his gun at me. “Honor! One more shot and he’s really dead!” he warns.

Her aim doesn’t relent. I know exactly what she’s capable of, but it’s Damon’s face that catches my attention—it’s the look he gets right before he pivots.

In a split second he changes target.

Honor!

“No!” I swing myself in agonizing pain. I push against the chains, their tension turning my reach for Damon into a swaying struggle, my legs wrapped around his torso that he can’t move his arms. The Chapel fills with the sound of my scream, piercing through like a bad choir.

I ignore the burning pain, treating it like a minor thing as I persist in restraining him. I grit my teeth along with the sensation of my muscles tightening and constricting.

With my own arms bound, I can’t fully immobilize him. His arms are trapped, but his wrists and hands remain free—including the one gripping the gun, aimed squarely at Honor. Desperation fuels my next move as I release one of my legs and deliver a lashing kick, hoping to knock the gun away. But he jerks me hard, yanking me away from the chains that keep me suspended

“Shoot him, Honor!” I strain. She’s fighting to get a steady shot while Damon and I are wrestling, a writhing mass of sweaty bodies. “Just shoot!”

Damon keeps fighting me and firing. Despite his erratic shots, the bullets still manage to fly close enough, forcing Honor to take cover.

God help me. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. It’s a matter of time before Damon sets himself free. Then?—

A crack.

All resistance ceases as his body goes limp.

“Chase!” A voice booms through the chaos.

Ethan. My God, that kid. He makes his entrance with a literal bang—first mission, first triumph, and he’s already making it count.

Honor steps out from behind her cover, charging toward Ethan with wide-eyed surprise. It’s clear they haven’t coordinated.

“I told you to stay with Oakley and Laramie!” she snaps.

“They’re safe,” Ethan assures her. “Hux is watching over them, and his wife Savannah is there too. She’s a rancher, and let’s just say she’s expert in defending her territory.”

“Guys, a little help here!” I call out, my muscles pushed far beyond their limits.

Ethan darts to my side, his eyes scanning me with a mix of shock and disbelief. “What the hell, Chase? How are you even still alive?” He wrestles with the cuffs. “I need a key!”

Honor scans the room, then strides over to Damon’s motionless form on the floor. She kneels, rifling through his pockets before pulling out a set of keys.

“Try these!” she shouts, tossing them to Ethan.

Ethan catches the keys and starts working on the cuffs.

“Can you even see what you’re doing in those sunglasses?” I mutter.

But before I can finish the jab, he finds the right key and releases me. My arms drop, and I collapse to my knees, agony ripping through every joint.

Damn, that hurts.

Honor and Ethan are by my side in an instant, each gripping an arm to steady me. Together, they ease me down, helping me sit as comfortably as the circumstances allow.

“What happened to the others?” I ask. “There must be at least four more of Damon’s men.”

“I took them out. There’s no one else, I checked,” Ethan replies, a hint of pride in his voice.

“So Hux let you go instead of himself?”

“Yup. Gangster setups? Warehouses and underground caverns? My specialty. He couldn’t argue about that.”

No doubt, his time with the Mosaic has sharpened those skills.

“Tell me you have backup organized,” I press.

“Dad’s on his way, and so are the Bozeman PD.”

I nod, glancing at Honor, her hold on me unyielding.

“Ethan, go wait outside for your dad,” I instruct.

Without hesitation, Ethan turns and heads out.

Honor crouches in front of me, her arms hovering as if afraid touching me might shatter what little remains. “Chase…” Her voice is laced with so much emotion all I want is hold her.

I fight to lift my hand, to close the distance, to prove I’m still the man she once trusted. But my body’s nothing more than a broken circuit, the signal lost between want and will. My fingers twitch uselessly, curling in on themselves. The strength I once wielded so easily—it’s gone.

“I never sold you out, Honor,” I rasp, my voice as wrecked as the rest of me.

Then she moves, closing the unbearable space between us. She takes my trembling hand in hers, guiding it gently—achingly—to her cheek. The warmth of her skin touches my palm, so alive, it almost undoes me.

She’s here.

She’s real.

I let my weight fall against her, knowing—trusting—she’s strong enough to hold me upright. As broken as I am, she steadies me.

I say, “Damon could’ve sliced me to pieces, and I still wouldn’t have given you up. Do you know why?”

“Because you’re remarkable.”

“No.” I take ragged breaths, still not believing this is over. “Because you’re more precious to me than anything—than my own body, my own life.”

She starts to pull away, but I catch her wrist, weak but determined.

“I need to dress your wounds, Chase,” she says, her hands already moving to tear at the hem of her shirt for makeshift bandages.

“It can wait,” I plead. “Just… don’t move away from me. Please.”

Her hands pause, and she stays. Her presence wraps around me as I lean into her, clinging to the fragile connection between us.

I meet her gaze, pouring everything I have left into the words. “I didn’t kill your father. I swear.”

Tears spill down her cheeks as she nods, her voice breaking. “I know. I saw the autopsy report.”

I exhale. In other words, she knows the bullet entered her father’s head post-mortem.

“For twelve years my only mission was to kill you. Yet I never did. And I saved you today, Chase Samson.”

I smile, a mix of gratitude and yearning in my eyes. “You saved me, no doubt about it. But damn, Honor, I wish you’d said something else.”

She smiles back, a knowing look lighting up her face. “A woman doesn’t change her mind twice for the same reason. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is. I love you, Chase Samson.”

My heart swells at her words.

She tilts her head, teasing yet earnest. “This is the part where you say, ‘I love you too.’”

I lean in, brushing my lips against hers. Words won’t do justice now. I’ve said them before—now it’s time to show her, to let her feel everything I can’t put into words.