Chapter Thirteen
~ Burke ~
I sat alone in my truck, engine off, staring at the black screen of my cell phone like it was a live grenade. The courthouse visit had left me shaken in a way firefights and IED sweeps never had.
Seeing the hatred in Dennis’s eyes when he looked at Danny—that wasn’t just anger. That was a promise. And with a baby on the way, I couldn’t afford to take chances, even with Rawley and the boys providing security. No, this situation called for something—someone—else entirely.
The ranch was quiet at this time of day. I’d sent Danny inside with Carter, knowing he needed time to decompress after the hearing. His hands had stopped shaking by the time we pulled into the driveway, but his eyes still held that haunted look that made my chest ache.
“He’s going to find me,” he’d whispered as we drove back from the courthouse. “The ankle monitor, the restraining order—none of it matters. He’ll find a way.”
I’d squeezed his hand and promised him I wouldn’t let that happen. Now I had to make good on that promise.
I unlocked my phone and pulled up a contact that wasn’t listed under any name—just a string of numbers I’d memorized years ago. My thumb hovered over the call button, muscles tensing as if preparing for physical pain.
Calling Sterling wasn’t something I did lightly. My twin brother was the shadow that even shadows were afraid of. We’d both gone into the military after high school, both ended up in special forces, but our paths had diverged sharply from there.
While I’d stuck with the teams, Sterling had been recruited for operations that didn’t officially exist. The kind that governments pretended never happened, even when the bodies started piling up.
The last time I’d called him was three years ago, when a situation in Caracas went so sideways that even Rawley couldn’t see a way out.
Sterling had shown up, spent forty-eight hours in-country, and suddenly our extraction path was clear.
I never asked what he did. He never offered to tell. That’s how it worked with Sterling.
But this was different. This wasn’t about me or the job. This was about Danny and our child. About family.
My finger still hovered, not quite making contact with the screen. Sterling wasn’t just dangerous—he was a force of nature, a one-man wrecking crew of death who lived by his own code and answered to no one.
Bringing him here meant changing everything. Once he arrived, events would take on their own momentum, and I wouldn’t be able to control the outcome.
But Dennis’s words at the courthouse echoed in my mind: “This isn’t over, Danny! You hear me? This isn’t fucking over!”
I pressed call.
The protocol was simple, but specific—let it ring exactly three times, hang up, wait precisely five minutes for the return call. The kind of paranoid routine that would seem ridiculous to anyone who hadn’t lived the kind of life that made such measures necessary.
One ring. Two rings. Three.
I ended the call and started the timer on my watch.
Five minutes was a long time when you were waiting for the devil to call back.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, eyes constantly scanning the ranch yard out of habit.
Rawley was in the barn doing inventory. Macon was checking the fence line.
Carter was inside with Danny and Jojo, probably making tea or doing whatever gentle shit he did to calm people down.
They were all trained killers—well, except Carter and Jojo—but Sterling was something else.
Something that made even hardened operators uneasy.
It wasn’t just his skills, though those were exceptional.
It was the absolute coldness with which he applied them.
The total absence of hesitation. My brother had died inside a long time ago, leaving behind only purpose and precision.
And I was inviting that darkness here, to the place I was trying to build a future.
My watch beeped. Five minutes.
The phone vibrated in my palm almost immediately, right on schedule. Sterling never missed a beat.
“Yeah?” His voice was like mine, but flatter, all emotion smoothed away like river stones.
“I need you,” I said simply.
A pause, brief enough that most people wouldn’t notice it. “How soon?”
“Yesterday.” The word tasted bitter on my tongue.
Another pause, this one filled with the sound of rustling paper—Sterling consulting whatever mental map he kept of potential extraction points, safe houses, and transportation options.
“I’ll be there in twelve hours,” he said finally.
I closed my eyes, relief and dread washing through me in equal measure. “North pasture. There’s a landing strip.”
“I know.”
Of course he did. Sterling probably knew the layout of Black Butte Ranch better than some of the people who lived here.
Contingencies upon contingencies.
“My mate is pregnant,” I added, not sure why I felt the need to explain. Sterling had never asked for reasons before.
“I know that, too,” he replied, his voice softening almost imperceptibly. “I’ll see you at 0300.”
The line went dead before I could respond. I stared at the phone for a long moment, then slipped it back into my pocket.
Twelve hours. That’s how long I had to prepare everyone for Hurricane Sterling. To explain to Rawley why I’d called in the most dangerous man we knew without consulting him first. To reassure Danny that this was a good thing, that Sterling would help keep him safe, that everything would be okay.
Twelve hours to convince myself of the same.
I started the truck’s engine and pulled away from the spot where I’d been parked for the last twenty minutes, heading toward the side of the house. Rawley needed to know first. He was still our commander in every way that mattered, even if we didn’t wear the uniforms anymore.
As I drove, I tried to picture Sterling meeting Danny, tried to imagine my deadly ghost of a brother in the same room as the gentle omega carrying my child. The image wouldn’t form. The two halves of my life—the darkness I’d come from and the light I was building toward—refused to align in my mind.
But they would have to. Because Dennis was out there, ankle monitor or not, and the look in his eyes at the courthouse had made one thing crystal clear: he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. And what he wanted was Danny, broken and submissive and back under his control.
That wasn’t happening. Not while I drew breath. And if protecting my family meant unleashing my brother’s particular brand of hell, then so be it.
Sterling was coming.
And God help anyone who stood in his way.
I parked the truck, climbed out, and headed for the barn. The walk gave me just enough time to rehearse what I’d say to Rawley, and just enough time to realize no rehearsal would make this conversation go smoothly.
Gravel crunched under my boots as I crossed the ranch yard, the afternoon sun beating down on my neck like judgment from above.
Rawley would be pissed—rightfully so. I’d just invited a ghost onto his property without asking permission first. But with Danny’s safety on the line, I’d take Rawley’s anger over Dennis’s threats any day of the week.
The barn doors stood half-open, sunlight slicing through the darkness inside like a knife.
I could hear Rawley before I saw him—the methodical scratch of pencil on paper as he tallied inventory, the occasional grunt when something didn’t match his records.
The sound was so normal, so everyday, that it almost made me turn around.
Why shatter this peace? Why not handle Dennis myself?
But I knew better. Dennis wasn’t just some local bully I could scare off with a black eye and a broken nose. The look in his eyes at the courthouse had been pure, undiluted hatred—the kind that doesn’t respond to reason or threat. The kind that waits for its moment, patient as cancer.
I stepped into the barn, the familiar smell of hay and leather and motor oil wrapping around me.
Rawley stood at a workbench near the back, clipboard in hand, counting sacks of feed stacked against the wall.
His back was to me, but I knew he’d clocked my arrival the moment my shadow crossed the threshold. Old habits.
“Inventory’s almost done,” he said without turning. “We’re short on fencing wire again. Macon’s been going through it like water fixing the north pasture.”
I stopped a few feet behind him, hands shoved in my pockets to keep them still. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Something in my voice made him turn. Rawley had always been able to read men like books—it’s what made him such a good commander. One look at my face and his expression shifted from relaxed to alert, eyes narrowing as he assessed potential threats.
“What have you done?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.
I met his gaze, refusing to flinch. “I called Sterling.”
The clipboard hit the workbench with a sharp crack. Rawley’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. “You did what?”
“He’ll be here at 0300,” I continued, keeping my voice steady. “Landing in the north pasture.”
“Jesus Christ, Burke.” Rawley ran a hand over his face, momentarily looking older than his years. “You called in the one guy even the government pretends doesn’t exist? Without talking to me first?”
I’d expected anger, but what I saw in his eyes was something closer to concern. Not just for the ranch or the others, but for me.
That made it worse somehow.
“Dennis is out on bail,” I said. “You saw him at the courthouse. You heard what he said.”
“Yeah, I did. I also saw the ankle monitor they strapped to his leg, and the way the judge laid out what would happen if he violated the restraining order.” Rawley crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve got cameras covering every inch of this property.
We’ve got three ex-SEALs and enough firepower to start a small war.
What exactly do you think Sterling’s going to add to that equation, except more trouble? ”
The question hung in the air between us, fair and impossible to answer without admitting what we both already knew: Sterling wasn’t just backup. He was insurance. The kind you hope you never need to cash in.
“Danny’s carrying my child,” I said finally. The words still felt new in my mouth, strange and wonderful and terrifying all at once. “I’m not taking any chances. Not with them.”
Rawley’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. He understood family—had built this whole place around the concept. Had taken in strays like me and Macon when we had nowhere else to go.
“Is Dennis really that dangerous?” he asked. Not doubting, just assessing.
I thought of the look in Dennis’s eyes at the courthouse, the cold calculation beneath the rage. “I think he sees Danny as his property,” I said slowly. “And now Danny’s carrying my kid. You tell me what an alpha like Dennis might do.”
Rawley knew the answer as well as I did.
An alpha like Dennis—possessive, violent, with a chip on his shoulder the size of Montana—wouldn’t just be angry about Danny escaping.
He’d see it as theft. As someone taking what belonged to him.
And the pregnancy would only make it worse—proof that another alpha had claimed what he considered his territory.
“Sterling isn’t exactly known for his subtlety,” Rawley said after a long silence. “Or his respect for the law.”
“Neither is Dennis,” I pointed out. “Difference is, Sterling’s on our side.”
Rawley snorted. “Sterling’s on Sterling’s side. Always has been.”
“He’s my brother.”
“He’s a weapon, Burke. One with a hair trigger and no safety.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Sterling had been walking the edge for years, taking jobs that would make most operators blanch.
There were rumors about him in certain circles—whispered stories about impossible missions and enemy combatants who simply ceased to exist. I didn’t know which ones were true. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
But I did know one thing: when it came to family, Sterling was as reliable as sunrise. Different planets might orbit around us, but the same blood ran through our veins.
“I trust him with my life,” I said. “With Danny’s life.”
Rawley held my gaze for a long moment, then sighed, shoulders dropping an inch. “It’s done now anyway,” he conceded. “But you make damn sure he understands how we handle things here. As a family. No lone wolf bullshit.”
I nodded, relief washing through me. I’d half-expected Rawley to order me to call Sterling back, to tell him to stand down. The fact that he hadn’t meant he understood the threat was real—real enough to warrant drastic measures.
“I’ll talk to him,” I promised, though we both knew controlling Sterling would be like trying to leash a hurricane. My brother operated on his own frequency, followed his own code. Always had.
Rawley picked up the clipboard again, a clear signal that the conversation was over. “Better go find Danny,” he said, not looking at me. “Warn him about what’s coming.”
I turned to leave, but Rawley’s voice stopped me at the door.
“Burke.” When I looked back, his eyes were deadly serious. “If Sterling crosses a line here—any line—he’s gone. Brother or not. Understood?”
“Understood,” I said, the word feeling like gravel in my throat.
I stepped back into the afternoon sunlight, squinting against the sudden brightness. The weight of what I’d set in motion settled more firmly on my shoulders with each step toward the house.
Sterling was coming—the most dangerous person I knew—to protect what was most precious to me. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I was bringing darkness to guard the light.
But as I approached the house where Danny waited, one hand resting protectively on his still-flat stomach as he gazed out the window, I knew I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d summon demons if that’s what it took to keep them safe.
Some prices were worth paying. Some decisions needed no justification beyond the fierce, primal certainty burning in my chest: they were mine to protect. And protect them I would, by any means necessary.
Even if those means had a name, a face that mirrored my own, and a reputation that made hardened killers nervous.
Even if those means were my own flesh and blood.