16. Chapter 16 Harper Brothers, Assemble
Cole
The first call I make is to Beau.
He answers on the second ring. "It's three in the morning, Cole."
"I need you." My voice comes out rougher than I intended. "All of you."
Silence. Then, "Where?"
"My place. Now."
I hang up before he can ask questions. Suzanne sits on my couch, wrapped in one of my blankets, Smokey's head in her lap.
Her fingers work through his fur like it's the only thing keeping her grounded.
She hasn't said a word since the pregnancy was revealed.
Just looked at me with those wide eyes like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It's not dropping. Not from me.
I crouch in front of her. "My brothers are coming. They'll help."
"Cole…"
"No arguments." I cup her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone. "You're not doing this alone anymore. Got it?"
Her throat works. "You don't have to."
"I want to." The words come out fierce. "I'm choosing this. Choosing you. Both of you."
She leans into my palm, and I feel the exact moment she decides to trust me.
Twenty minutes later, my living room fills with Harpers.
Beau arrives first with his wife, Holly, still in his boots from the ranch, hair sticking up as if he rolled straight out of bed.
Nash materializes next, already dressed in tactical black like he sleeps ready for war.
Jett shows up last with two thermoses of coffee and a grim expression.
They take one look at Suzanne curled on my couch and go still.
"Talk," Beau says.
So I do. I lay it out clean and fast: the threats, the sabotage, the fixer he sent, Daniel Harrison's name, and his run for office. The pregnancy.
The room goes silent.
Then, Beau pulls out his phone. "I'll have a lawyer on retainer by morning. Family law specialist. Best in the state."
"I'll run background on Harrison," Nash says, already typing on his own phone. "See what leverage we can find. Campaign donors, business partners, anyone who might flip."
Jett sets down his coffee. "My security cameras cover half of Main Street. I'll pull footage from the last two weeks, see if we can ID this fixer. And I'll talk to my staff, extra eyes on Butter & Bean."
I watch my brothers mobilize like a military operation, and something in my chest, wound tight for weeks, finally loosens. This is what we do. We protect our own.
Suzanne stares at them. "You don't even know me."
Beau glances up. "You're important to Cole. That makes you family."
"And you're carrying a baby that piece of shit wants to use as a political pawn." Nash's voice goes cold. "That makes this personal."
Jett just shrugs. "Plus, your coffee's better than mine. Whiskey Bend needs Butter & Bean."
A laugh breaks from Suzanne's throat. It sounds wet. "I don't know what to say."
"Say yes," I tell her. "Let us help."
She nods. Once. That's all I need.
Beau starts pacing. "We need a timeline. Due date, election date, and how long before this turns into a headline that wrecks Main Street's momentum."
Suzanne goes still. Her fingers stop moving in Smokey's fur.
"Beau." My voice drops low. A warning.
He stops, drags a hand over his jaw. "That came out wrong. Sorry." He looks at Suzanne, quieter now. "When's the baby due?"
"February," Suzanne whispers.
"Four months." Nash taps his phone screen. "Harrison's election is in November. He'll escalate before then. I want this contained."
"Then we contain him first." Beau starts pacing again. "I'll reach out to some contacts in the media. Quietly. See if there's any dirt we can use as insurance."
I shake my head. "We're not blackmailing a political candidate."
"We're protecting Suzanne." Beau's eyes meet mine. "If Harrison thinks he can destroy her without consequences, he'll do it. We need leverage."
He's right. I hate that he's right.
Nash leans forward. "I'll set up a security rotation. Someone is always within reach of Butter & Bean. We'll install panic buttons, better locks, and cameras on every entrance."
Jett's eyes drop to Suzanne's hand, resting low on her stomach like she doesn't realize it's there.
Something in his face goes quiet. "For what it's worth," he says, the joking edge gone, "Whiskey Bend's about to get someone new to spoil rotten.
That's not a problem we're solving, Suzanne. That's just good news."
Suzanne's breath catches. Her hand presses flatter against her stomach.
Jett clears his throat, brisk again. "I'll handle the business side, too. Lock down your accounts. If Harrison so much as looks at your finances, we'll know before he does."
Suzanne makes a small sound. "This is too much."
"It's not enough," I say. "Not until you're safe."
Beau crouches beside the couch, his voice gentling. "Do you have any documentation? Texts, emails, anything that proves Harrison knew about the pregnancy?"
"He doesn't know yet." Suzanne's hands twist in the blanket. "I left before I could tell him. Before he could…"
"Control the narrative," Nash finishes.
She nods.
"Good." Beau stands. "We use that. He can't claim you're trying to extort him if he didn't even know about the baby."
"But the fixer…"
"Is operating on assumption," Nash cuts in. "He knows you left. He knows you're hiding. But unless Harrison has proof of pregnancy, it's just surveillance and intimidation. Illegal, but not directly tied to the baby."
My jaw clenches. "Yet."
"Yet," Nash agrees. "Which is why we move fast."
The plan takes shape over the next hour. Beau makes calls to the lawyers and the PI. Nash sketches out security protocols on a notepad that looks more like a battle plan. Jett starts a list of businesses on Main Street willing to act as safe points if Suzanne needs help.
Through it all, Suzanne sits quietly, listening and processing. I stay close. Hand on her shoulder, present and solid.
Around five a.m., Beau's phone buzzes. He checks it, frowns, then shows me the screen. It's a text from Willa: Why is Suzanne's car at your place?
Shit.
"She knows," Beau says.
I scrub a hand over my face. "She's going to lose it."
"She's going to worry." Beau pockets his phone. "Better she hears it from us than through town gossip."
He's right again. I'm starting to hate that.
I look at Suzanne. "Willa's my sister. She's also your friend. She deserves to know."
Suzanne's face goes pale. "She'll hate me."
"She'll hate that you didn't trust her." I squeeze her shoulder. "But she won't hate you."
"Cole."
"Trust me."
She closes her eyes. Nods.
Beau sends the text: Come to Cole's. Now.
Willa arrives in fifteen minutes flat, still in her pajamas with a coat thrown over. She bursts through my door like a hurricane, eyes scanning until they land on Suzanne.
"What happened?" Her voice pitches high. "Are you hurt?"
Suzanne stands. "Willa, I…"
"Someone's been threatening her," I interrupt. "Sabotage. Intimidation. Her ex sent a fixer."
Willa goes sheet-white. "What?"
Suzanne's voice breaks. "I'm pregnant."
The silence stretches too long. Willa's face moves through shock, then something rawer.
"How long have you known?" Her voice comes out small. "Was I ever going to hear this from you?"
"Willa." Suzanne's voice cracks.
Willa blinks hard, jaw working, like she's swallowing something bitter. Then she crosses the room in three strides and pulls Suzanne into a hug so tight I hear Suzanne gasp.
"You should've told me." Willa's voice cracks. "You should've told me the second you got back to Whiskey Bend."
"I didn't want to be a burden…"
"You're not a burden." Willa pulls back, gripping Suzanne's shoulders. "You're my friend. And you're carrying a baby that needs protecting. Why would you think you had to do this alone?"
Suzanne's face crumples. "Because that's what I always do."
The shame in her voice makes my hands curl into fists.
Willa hugs her again. "Not anymore. You hear me? Not anymore."
I watch Suzanne shake in my sister's arms, and I want to find every person who ever made her feel like she had to carry the world by herself. Starting with Harrison.
Nash's phone buzzes. He glances at it, then stands. "I'm going to do a perimeter check around Butter & Bean. Make sure there's no immediate threats."
"I'll come with you," Jett says.
They're halfway to the door when Nash pauses and looks back at me.
"Are you good here?"
I nod. "Yeah."
They leave. Beau follows a minute later, muttering about calling his lawyer contact before business hours hit.
Willa makes tea. Suzanne sits at my kitchen table, looking wrung out and fragile and so damn brave it hurts to look at her.
I pull up a chair beside her. "You okay?"
"I don't know." She stares at her hands. "This is all happening so fast."
"We'll slow down if you need to."
"No." Her eyes meet mine. "No, I need this. I need help. I'm just not used to asking for it."
"You didn't ask," I point out. "I'm giving it anyway."
A small smile ghosts across her face. "Bossy."
"You like it."
Pink touches her cheeks. Willa pretends not to notice.
My phone buzzes. Nash.
Check the street.
I move to the window. A dark sedan sits three houses down, engine idling. Same make and model as the one I'd seen outside Butter & Bean last week.
My blood goes cold.
I grab my keys. "Stay here."
Suzanne stands. "Cole…"
"Stay. Here." I look at Willa. "Lock the door behind me."
I'm out before either of them can argue.
The sedan doesn't move as I approach. Tinted windows. Out-of-state plates. Everything about it screams professional surveillance.
Nash appears from the opposite direction, moving like smoke. We flank the vehicle.
I rap on the driver's window.
It rolls down. The man inside wears a suit too nice for a stakeout, and unlike the man from the fire station, he doesn't bother hiding his irritation.
"Can I help you?" His tone is clipped. Impatient, like we've interrupted something.
"You're parked outside my house."
"Public street."
"At five-thirty in the morning."
He doesn't answer that one. His gaze slides past me, toward the house.
Nash leans down to the window height. "We can do this easy or hard. Your choice."
The man's eyes cut to Nash, and his posture stiffens. Recalculating. "I'm not looking for trouble."
"Your job is harassing a pregnant woman?"
His jaw tightens. He doesn't deny it. He doesn't confirm it either. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't." I pull out my phone and snap a photo of his license plate. "But now I have your plate number. And my brother here is very good at finding people."
Nash's smile is all teeth. "Very good."
The man throws the car into gear, faster than he probably means to.
"Tell Harrison we're not scared," I say. "And tell him if he comes near Suzanne again, he'll regret it."
The sedan pulls away. Slow. Deliberate.
Nash watches it disappear around the corner. "That's our guy."
"Yeah." My hands shake with the urge to chase him down. "Yeah, it is."
Nash claps my shoulder. "We'll get him and Harrison, but we do it smart."
I nod. I force myself to breathe.
When I turn back toward my house, Suzanne's silhouette fills the window. Watching and Waiting.
I head back inside.
She meets me at the door. "Was it him?"
"Yeah."
Her face drains of color. "He knows I'm here. He knows about you."
"Good." I pull her close. "Let him know. Let him know exactly who he's dealing with."
She buries her face in my chest. "I'm scared."
"I know." I press my lips to her hair. "But you're not alone. Not anymore."
Nash appears in the doorway. His expression is granite.
"That's our guy," he says again, quietly and certain.
And just like that, the war begins.