15. Chapter 15 The Thing I Didnt Know I Wanted
Suzanne
Silence roars in my ears.
My heartbeat is everywhere. In my throat. In my fingertips, still pressed against his chest. I wait for him to pull back.
But Cole doesn't move.
His hand slides from where it was resting on my hip, slow and deliberate, until his palm settles warm and solid against my stomach. Not groping. Not questioning. Just... there. Like he's already claiming something precious.
My breath catches.
"How far along?" His voice is rougher than usual, but steady.
"Almost three months." The words scrape out of me. "I didn't know I wasn't regular before, and with everything happening, I just thought..."
I trail off because what does it matter what I thought? The reality is I'm carrying a baby I didn't plan for, didn't want, and have no idea how to protect from the man who…
"Are you safe right now?"
The question stops me cold.
Not whose is it? Not what are you going to do. Not even why didn't you tell me.
Just: Are you safe?
I open my mouth. Close it. My eyes are burning again, and I'm so goddamn tired of crying. His hand doesn't move from my stomach, steady and warm, like he's not going anywhere, like we matter, and it cracks something open in my chest.
"No." The word comes out broken. "No, I'm not safe. The father... he's running for office. State legislature. He's got money, connections, a wife he parades around like a fucking trophy." I laugh, but it sounds bitter even to my own ears. "He doesn't know yet. But when he finds out."
"He'll what?" Cole's voice drops lower, dangerous in a way I've never heard from him before.
I swallow hard. "He'll try to control it.
Control me. He'll say it's his right, his responsibility, and if I don't play along...
" I close my eyes because I can still see Daniel's face that night at the bar, the cold calculation in his expression.
"He'll burn me down to keep his image clean. Make me disappear if he has to."
Cole's jaw tightens. His hand doesn't move from my stomach, but his other hand comes up to cup my face, tilting my chin until I meet his eyes.
"Look at me, Suzanne."
I do. God help me, I do.
"That's not happening." Each word comes out measured, absolute. "You hear me? He doesn't get to touch you. Doesn't get to scare you. Doesn't get to make you feel like you're alone in this."
"Cole…"
"I mean it." His thumb brushes across my cheekbone, catching a tear I didn't realize had fallen. "Whatever you need. However, this goes. I'm not walking away."
My throat tightens. "You don't have to."
"I know I don't have to." His voice softens just a fraction. "I want to."
The words settle over me like a blanket, warm and solid and real. For the first time in months, maybe years, I feel like I can breathe all the way down to the bottom of my lungs.
"I'm scared," I whisper.
"I know." He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. "But you're not running anymore, not from this, and not from him."
"What are we going to do?"
Cole pulls back just enough to look at me. Whatever he's feeling, it's fierce. Protective. The kind of thing that doesn't move once it's decided.
"Then we're going to war."
He says it so calmly, like he's commenting on the weather, but there's steel underneath. A promise and a threat.
Before I can respond, he's already moving. He shifts me gently off his lap, reaches for his phone on the nightstand, and starts scrolling through contacts with the kind of focus that tells me he's already three steps ahead.
"Cole, what are you…"
"Calling in favors." He doesn't look up. "I've got a buddy who's a lawyer. Family law, custody stuff. And another guy who used to work in private security before he went corporate." His finger hovers over a name. "If this asshole wants to play dirty, we're going to make damn sure we're ready."
My fingers curl into the blanket. "I can't afford..."
"You're not paying for anything." He glances up, his expression brooking no argument. "This is on me."
"Cole…"
"Suzanne." He sets the phone down for a second and reaches for my hand. "You told me your secret. Now I'm telling you mine." His grip tightens just slightly. "I don't let go of what's mine. And whether you're ready to hear it or not, you're mine now. Both of you."
The air leaves my lungs in a rush.
He means it. I can see it in every line of his face. I can feel it in the way his hand still rests protectively over where my baby is growing.
Our baby.
God, when did I start thinking of it that way?
"I don't know what I'm doing," I admit, my voice cracking. "I don't know how to be a mother. I don't know how to fight someone like him. I don't…"
"Then we'll figure it out." Cole cuts me off, but gently. "Together. One step at a time."
He picks up his phone again, and this time he doesn't hesitate. He hits the dial.
It rings twice before a male voice answers, groggy and annoyed. "Harper, it's one in the goddamn morning. Someone better be dying."
"I need a favor, Patterson." Cole's voice is all business now. "Family law case. Custody before it becomes custody. Guy's got money and political ambitions. I need to know how to protect someone before he knows there's anything to fight over."
There's a pause on the other end. Then: "Jesus. Okay. Yeah. Give me twenty minutes to wake up, and I'll call you back."
"Thanks. I owe you."
"Damn right you do."
Cole hangs up, immediately scrolls to another contact. This time when he dials, the voice that answers is wide awake and sharp.
"Cole. What's wrong?"
"Daniel Harrison." Cole's voice goes flat. "State legislature candidate. I need everything you can dig up on him. Financials, affairs, skeletons. Anything that gives us leverage."
Another pause. "Is this official or personal?"
"Personal."
"Then it's off the books. Give me forty-eight hours."
"Make it twenty-four."
A low whistle. "That bad?"
"Worse."
"Done."
Cole ends the call and immediately starts typing out a text to someone else. I watch him, feeling unmoored and strangely anchored all at once.
"You don't have to do this," I say quietly.
He looks up, jaw still set from the calls, and for a second, he just looks tired in a way I haven't seen before.
"Yeah," he says. "I really do."
I don't know what to say to that. I can't make sense of the fact that a man I've known for a few short weeks is already going to war for me, without a second of hesitation.
So instead I just curl back into him, rest my head on his shoulder, and let him keep making calls while Smokey settles at our feet like a second line of defense.
And for the first time since I saw those two pink lines, I let myself believe that maybe, maybe I'm not as alone as I thought.