Page 35 of Her Remarkable Protector

She trails off as her shoulders slump, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. The sight hurts me. “Honor, this isn’t on you. You can’t control what Oakley does.”

Cora-Lee’s voice pulls me back to the task at hand. “They’re leaving the store, heading toward a car.”

“Zoom in on the plates,” I say, leaning closer to the screen.

“Got it,” she replies, freezing the frame and enhancing the image.

“I’ll call Freeman for backup.”

The call connects instantly, and Captain Freeman doesn’t miss a beat. His response is quick, decisive—a man who knows the stakes. Red Mark might just have a solid ally in the Bozeman PD now.

Ethan’s voice comes through again as the call with Freeman ends. “I’ve got a visual. They’re heading for I-90.”

“Bozeman PD is en route,” I say, issuing the next orders. “Pursue, but keep it low-key. Rollo knows Oakley, so he’s not a direct threat. Your objective is to stop them before this escalates. No one gets hurt. Understood?”

“I’ve got this, Chase,” Ethan replies.

From the video feed, I see Ethan accelerate a little too hard, his car weaving slightly.

“Ease off the pedal, Ethan. No need to spook him,” I say, keeping my tone measured. Despite his eagerness, deep down, I know he’s got this.

“Copy,” he replies, though I can still hear the adrenaline in his voice.

Ethan keeps his pursuit clean. On the feed, I watch him nudge closer, not too aggressive, but enough to let the driver know he’s not going anywhere.

The suspect’s car swerves, testing escape routes. Right then, Ethan makes his move. He presses forward, sliding into position to cut off the suspect’s lane. It’s a bold maneuver, and for a second, my pulse spikes. But his execution is precise—controlled without being reckless.

“That’s my man,” I murmur to myself. Behind me, Honor sits stiffly, her hands clenched in her lap, barely able to keep her eyes on the screen.

Right then, Ethan decides, “Engaging target.”

“Go! Box him in,” I reply, leaning closer to the screen. My eyes track his car as it edges the suspect toward the shoulder, the police cars looming in both directions. The pressure works—the suspect slows, and the vehicles crawl to a stop. I let out a small breath, tension easing just enough to steady my focus.

“Get Oakley!” I order, my voice firm.

The moment the suspect’s car halts, the driver bolts, throwing open the door and sprinting toward the highway embankment. Freeman’s men, already positioned, move in fast. Two officers tackle him, pinning him to the ground. His career as a Stoneborn is over.

Ethan steps out of his vehicle, his movements sharp and purposeful, and approaches the passenger side. His voice comes through the comms, steady now. “I’ve got Oakley.”

Behind me, Honor lets out a shuddering breath and drops to the edge of the bed, her face in her hands. “Thank God. Thank God.”

But then, the situation takes a turn.

“What the hell, Ethan!” Oakley’s voice bursts through the comms, angry and raw. “We were just off for a fucking drive! He was going to take me back to the hospital.”

“Get in the car!” Ethan snaps, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Didn’t I say don’t wander off?”

“Fuck your rules!” Oakley shouts back, his voice cracking with frustration.

“Get in the car!” Ethan repeats, his tone hardening.

“I’m not going back to your prison!” Oakley yells, his voice trembling. “Hell, for all I care, I should’ve just disappeared with Rollo and never come back!”

Honor gasps audibly, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my God. I never realized he resents me that much.”

Her statement wounds me. Maybe she thought Oakley would be relieved, eager to go back to her.

I crouch beside her, placing my hands on her shoulders. “No, Honor. He’s upset. He’s confused. We’ll talk to him and figure this out.”

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