Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LINC
Ididn’t breathe until we were halfway down the gravel road out of Everton.
The tires kicked up dust behind us, the kind that hung in the headlights like fog.
Kristin sat silent in the passenger seat, her hands clenched tight in her lap, staring out at the dark fields sliding past the windows.
The note was folded in my pocket, but I could still see it as clear as the moment I’d read it, still hearing the scrape of her chair across the shop floor when she’d backed away from it.
I’d failed her.
I’d promised myself she’d never know the weight of this.
I’d been intercepting the messages, the threats, thinking I was protecting her.
Thinking I could stop it before it touched her.
But tonight, he’d gotten ahead of me. And the look on her face when she read those words would burn itself into my memory. I’d never forgive myself for that.
My grip tightened on the wheel. My jaw ached from how hard I was biting down on the rage clawing its way up my throat. Every mile between us and Everton felt like too little, too late.
“I’m taking you to Kipp’s,” I said finally. My voice came out rough, low, controlled only by force.
Kristin’s head snapped toward me. “What? No, I want to go home.”
I shook my head. “Not right now.”
“Lincoln,” she groaned and scowled at me.
“I said no.” The words landed harder than I meant.
They came from somewhere deep, where fear and anger had mixed into one.
I glanced over, trying to ease the sharpness in my tone.
“Baby, I just need you with the girls. With Nora, Fallon, and Elle, somewhere I know you’re covered. I won’t be gone long.”
Her eyes narrowed. Suspicion flickered there. She knew me too damn well. “What are you planning?”
“Nothing stupid.” The lie left a bitter taste in my mouth. “Just need to talk to the guys.”
Her lips pressed tight, but she didn’t push. She turned back to the window, shoulders stiff, and I hated leaving her like this. But I’d hate to let her face this threat without every line of defense I could build around her. The silence between us filled the truck, heavy but familiar.
By the time we rolled into Kipp and Nora’s drive, the sky had gone dark, and the porch light threw long gold streaks across the snowbanks. The house looked calm, safe, the kind of place I needed her to be. I parked, killed the engine, and walked her up to the porch.
The door opened before I even raised a hand. Nora stood there in an old cardigan, eyes sharp and kind, scanning both our faces. “Everything okay?” she asked, though the way her brows drew together said she already knew it wasn’t.
“Not really,” I admitted. “Can she stay here for a bit?”
Nora nodded without hesitation. “Of course. Come on in, Kris.”
Kristin paused, looking up at me like she wanted to argue again. I leaned down, pressed a kiss to her temple, and kept my voice low so only she could hear. “I’ll be back for you. Trust me.”
She swallowed, the fight leaving her eyes, and nodded. “Be careful.”
“Always.”
I waited until the door closed behind her before I turned and walked back to the truck. The sound of the latch sliding home echoed louder than it should have. My pulse thudded heavier with every step.
Time to call in the boys.
The night air was cold enough to sting my throat as I started the truck and turned toward Nash’s.
The drive across the ranch took less than ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity.
My headlights cut through the dark, catching the glint of metal in the distance.
By the time I turned down his long drive, the yard was already filled with trucks.
Kipp’s Ford sat crooked at the edge of the gravel, Ryder’s blacked-out Chevy beside it, Griffin’s Dodge parked square and precise like always.
Kipp climbed out of his truck when I pulled in, falling into step beside me without a word. We didn’t need to talk yet. The look on my face told him enough.
Inside, Nash’s house smelled like strong coffee and old cigar smoke. The living room lights were low, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound before we entered. The four of them were gathered around the big oak table, beer bottles sweating rings onto the wood. Heads turned when we walked in.
“About damn time,” Ryder muttered, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed tight across his chest.
“I had to make sure Kristin was squared away,” I said, pulling up a chair. My voice felt steadier than I expected.
Nash tipped his chin. “She with the girls?”
“Yeah.”
Griffin, quiet as ever, nodded once. His eyes were sharp under the brim of his hat. Nash sat at the head of the table, broad and calm, exhaling slowly and steadily like he was measuring what I hadn’t said yet.
“Alright,” he said finally. “Tell us.”
I pulled the folded note from my pocket and set it on the table.
The sound of paper against wood was louder than it should have been.
Nobody reached for it, but every one of them leaned in, eyes scanning the words.
The air went tight. Kipp cursed under his breath.
Ryder’s jaw twitched. Griffin leaned forward, hands flat on the table.
Nash was the one who broke the silence. “Who?”
“Team roper she had trouble within Vegas,” I said. “He invited himself into her trailer and tried to push it when she said no. The bruises on her arms, cut on her lip, the ones from that weren’t from her fall, were from him.”
Ryder let out a low whistle that broke into a muttered curse. “Jesus.”
Kipp’s voice came rough. “How long’s this been going on?”
“Since we got home from Vegas,” I said. “I’ve been intercepting the letters, texts, all of it. I thought I had a handle on it. Tonight, he got past me. Left that at her shop.”
Griffin spoke next, quietly but firmly. “This why you got married?”
“Yeah.” I nodded once. “I didn’t expect him to get up from the ditch he was in.” There was no point lying to them.
“You should’ve involved us sooner,” Griffin said. His tone wasn’t accusing. Just a fact.
“I know.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I thought I was doing fine protecting her.”
Ryder barked a laugh, sharp and humorless. “By yourself? Did you forget what we used to do, Linc? Just happen to forget we don’t leave each other hanging?”
My chest tightened, because he wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t want to drag you back into it. We walked away for a reason. You’ve got families now.”
“Yeah, we walked away,” Nash said slowly, his voice hardening, “but we didn’t forget who we are. And we sure as hell didn’t forget what we do when one of ours is threatened.”
The silence that followed felt heavy enough to bend the air. I looked around the table, at the men who’d once been my team, my brothers. We weren’t just ranchers now. Not underneath. We were still trained to push back and cross lines when necessary. That kind of thing never left you.
Kipp slammed his beer down hard enough to rattle the bottles. “Alright. We’re in. What’s the play?”
The sound hit like a gunshot, sharp and final.
The knot in my chest loosened, only a fraction, but enough to breathe again.
For the first time all night, I felt a flicker of control.
The second Kipp spoke, something shifted in the room.
The air changed. We weren’t just five men sitting around a kitchen table anymore.
We were what we had always been when things got bad.
A unit. A line that no one crossed. Brothers.
I leaned forward, palms braced against the scarred tabletop. The surface was rough under my hands, gouged by years of use, but solid. Familiar. “First thing, we find him. No more waiting around for threats to land on the doorstep. No more notes. We put a face to this man and end the guessing.”
Griffin’s voice came steady, calm as always.
“I’ll run the plates on those vehicles you flagged last week.
The ones near the shop. I’ll cross-check them against county records and property leases.
If he’s been hanging around Everton, we’ll know where.
” He spoke with quiet certainty, already planning ten steps ahead.
Kipp was already pulling out his phone. His thumb moved fast, the glow from the screen lighting the edge of his face.
“I’ll call my contact at the sheriff’s office.
He owes me. If there’ve been trespass calls, complaints, or anything near Kristin’s building, I’ll get copies of the reports.
If this guy’s been sloppy, we’ll find the trail. ”
Nash sat back, eyes steady and sharp under the brim of his hat.
He rubbed his jaw with one hand, the motion thoughtful.
“Surveillance first. Control second. I’ll get cameras up at her shop.
Small, high corners, nothing obvious. If he sets foot near her door again, we’ll have him on record.
And I’ll run motion sensors on the windows.
Nobody gets near that place without us knowing. ”
Ryder leaned forward, the legs of his chair creaking under his weight.
His grin was all teeth and tension. “And I’ll stick close during the day.
She won’t see me, but I’ll be there. This bastard so much as looks her way, he won’t like what happens next.
” He didn’t need to say more. The look in his eyes said enough.
“Not just her shop,” I said. “The ranch, the roads, the town. Anywhere she goes. Nobody lets her out of sight until this is handled.”
Kipp finally looked up, one brow raised. “You planning to tell her that, or just let her figure it out when one of us keeps popping up wherever she goes?”
I blew out a long breath. “I’ll tell her. She’ll hate it.”
“She’ll like being safe,” Ryder said, his tone low, matter-of-fact. The words sank deep, the truth of them too plain to argue with.
The room went quiet for a while. The only sound came from the hum of the refrigerator and the soft tick of the clock above the counter. The stillness wasn’t comfortable, but it was solid. It meant we were all thinking the same thing.
Then Griffin spoke, voice firm and calm. “We all promised we were done with this. Promised our wives, promised ourselves. But promises don’t mean much if the people we love aren’t safe. If this man thinks he can come near one of ours, we make sure he regrets it.”
His eyes cut to me, steady and hard.
No one argued. We didn’t need to.
Because we all knew the truth. None of us had ever really stopped being who we were. We’d just buried it under ranch work, under families and fences and quiet mornings. But it was still there, waiting.
I sat back in my chair, eyes sweeping over the table.
Kipp was still on his phone, already deep in conversation with his contact.
Griffin was writing names and addresses on a notepad he must have pulled from his pocket, lines of data and details stacking up like a blueprint.
Ryder had shifted to the window, keeping watch even though there was nothing to see but empty pasture.
Nash sat at the head of the table, his calm presence holding everything together the way it always had.
My brothers. My team.
And now, Kristin’s shield.
“Alright,” I said quietly, my voice steady again. “We move as soon as we know more.”
Four heads nodded.
The plan was set.
But even after the decision was made, nobody stood.
None of us could. The silence that followed wasn’t hesitation.
It was focus. We’d done this before—planning, preparing, tightening the perimeter until the threat had nowhere left to hide.
The muscle memory of it came back as naturally as breathing.
I looked down at my hands, the veins raised against the back of my skin. The same hands that held her earlier. The same hands that failed to keep that note from finding her. The thought made my pulse surge again.
“This doesn’t happen again,” I said quietly.
Ryder glanced over, his expression dead serious now. “It won’t.”
Kipp pocketed his phone and leaned back. “I’ll have an update before morning.”
Griffin gave a short nod. “I’ll send everything I find to you and Nash tonight.”
Nash stood, his chair scraping the floor. “We’ll start before sunrise.”
The meeting broke up, each man rising to his feet with purpose. Boots thudded against the floor, voices dropped low, plans muttered between them as they headed out. The front door opened and closed, the sound of engines rumbling to life outside filling the quiet that followed.
I stayed where I was for a long minute, staring at the note lying in the center of the table. The words glared up at me under the kitchen light.
He can’t protect you forever.
The paper was creased, edges soft from how many times I’d unfolded it. I reached out and folded it again, this time smaller, until it fit in my palm. I slipped it into my pocket, the same way I’d done hours ago, and stood.
The kitchen felt too still now, too clean after the storm that had just moved through it.
I grabbed my hat from the counter and stepped outside.
The night air hit cold against my face, sharp enough to clear my head.
Out beyond the line of trucks, the fields stretched quietly and endlessly.
The moonlight spilled silver across the gravel, catching on the frost forming near the fence posts.
Somewhere out there, he was watching.
But so was I.
And this time, I wasn’t watching alone.
I climbed into the truck, the seat creaking beneath me, and sat there for a long moment before turning the key. The engine rumbled to life, steady and familiar. I looked once toward the horizon, the distant glow of the ranch house where I knew Kristin was trying to sleep.
The promise I’d made her earlier echoed back in my head.
I’ll be back for you.
And I meant every word.
I shifted into gear, gravel crunching under the tires as I pulled away. Whatever it took, whatever line I had to cross, she was worth it.
Because no one threatened what was mine and walked away untouched.