Page 33 of Her Remarkable Protector

“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.

12

CHASE

Ethan and I comb through the CCTV replays in the hospital’s surveillance room. The footage flickers between hallways, stairwells, and main exits. My eyes land on a small figure, his hoodie pulled low, slipping into the east stairwell. Oakley.

“There!” Ethan barks, stabbing a finger at the monitor.

“Twenty minutes ago,” I say, looking at the timestamp.

“I’ll get him!” he darts out of the room.

The sharpness in his tone gives me pause. Too eager. Too green. That kind of determination leads to recklessness.

I catch him in the corridor. “You stay here,” I instruct.

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