Page 97 of Her Remarkable Protector

“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.

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