Harper
Day one of unemployment, and I’m already at a loss.
Fortunately, Emma’s here.
She sets a mug of coffee in front of me before sliding into the chair across from mine at her kitchen table.
Taking the cup in my hands, I look into it. “This has whiskey in it, right?”
She gives me a smile that’s caught between humor and concern. “It’s ten in the morning.”
“And your point is?” I sip the hot beverage, not really tasting it anyway. I’m still discombobulated after everything last night. I can’t believe I’m here at Blackthorn.
It’s as different from the house I grew up in as you can get.
Modern, understated luxury. I remember my dad saying the people who owned it before spent a fortune remodeling it and then decided they didn’t want to live here.
I wouldn’t have expected three retired Delta Force soldiers to live someplace like this.
I look out the window. Luke was gone when I woke up a little while ago, and I hadn’t seen Mason or Jake this morning either. “Where is everyone?”
“Working. They have an ops center hidden in the stable.”
I raise my brow. “Like Batman?”
“Please ask Luke to dress up for you.” She leans toward me, her eyes wide with mischief. “And when he does, take a picture. I’d pay big bucks to see that.”
“When?” I say doubtfully.
“Babe, that man would do anything for you.” She sits back, studying me over the rim of her mug, her expression turning serious. “So how bad is it?”
Staring down at my coffee, I exhale. “I resigned. I haven’t turned in my badge yet, but I’ll do that when I go to pack up my stuff.”
Her expression doesn’t change. No pity, no shock—just understanding. Six months ago, I would’ve sworn she was the soft one out of this group, but I’m starting to see soft and strong are synonymous.
I swallow hard. “I’m sorry, Emma.”
She frowns at me. “For what?”
“My dad knew.” It’s been bothering me for weeks, but especially since I saw all the other cases loaded up behind it. “My dad knew yours was in trouble and didn’t do anything.”
She reaches across the table and wraps her hand around mine. “I’m not sure it would have made any difference in the end. Even if your dad had done something, I think we’d be sitting right here, in the same situation.”
“It doesn’t make it right,” I muttered.
“It doesn’t make it your responsibility.” Her grip tightens on my hand. “Let me tell you something I had to learn the hard way. The people we love can make terrible choices, but it doesn’t mean those choices become yours.”
I look up at her and see the belief shining from her eyes, and for the first time since I found the files hidden in the evidence room, I let myself believe that might be true.
Then something shifts.
It's subtle—a change in the air, maybe, or the way Emma's head tilts slightly toward the window. Then I hear it: the low hum of an engine coming up the drive.
"Who could that be?” she asks. “It doesn’t sound like Lily’s car."
I get up and move to the window, careful to stay out of direct line of sight, just in case.
Through the glass, I see movement at the stable.
The doors fly open and three figures emerge—Jake, Mason, and Luke—moving with the kind of tactical precision that makes my cop instincts go giddy.
They're not running, but they're fast. Purposeful.
Luke's hand hovers near his hip. Mason's scanning the perimeter.
Jake's already positioning himself between the stable and the main house.
"What's happening?" Emma asks. Her chair makes a sound, like she’s getting up.
"I don’t know." I move toward the front door, my body automatically shifting into a protective stance. My hand goes to my hip where my service weapon should be—except I'm not wearing it anymore. I'm not a deputy anymore, not technically.
But I'm still a protector. “Stay behind me, Emma.”
Emma follows me to the front door, well behind me, like I instructed. I open the front door and peek out.
The men have already formed a line—Jake in the center, Mason to his left, Luke to his right. A barrier as a black truck pulls up to the house.
It’s expensive and polished, the kind of vehicle that screams money and power. The engine cuts, and Cole Turner steps out.
My entire body goes rigid.
He's wearing a tailored suit, charcoal gray and perfectly pressed. His hair is styled, and his smile easy and confident. He looks like a businessman—a politician. Someone you'd trust with your vote.
Not a trafficker. Not a predator. Not the man who spent five years corrupting my father.
I grip the doorframe. But I know exactly what he is.
"Harper," Luke says quietly, his voice carrying a warning without turning his head.
How the hell does he know that I’m on the verge of jumping off this porch and wiping that smug smile off the bastard’s face? Annoying. Scowling, I relax my stance and force myself to breathe.
Emma's hand touches my lower back, trying to calm me.
Taking another breath, I step slightly in front of her, angling my body to shield hers. No fucking way am I letting my friend down after the way my dad failed hers.
Cole Turner approaches the porch with easy confidence, stopping at the bottom step. The three men blocking his path make it clear he's not welcome any closer.
"Jake Callahan." Turner's smile is warm and genuine, like they're old friends. "Hope I'm not intruding."
"You are," Jake says evenly.
Turner chuckles, the sound easy and disarming. But I catch the tiny tightening around his eyes and the way his gaze flicks to the men flanking Jake and recalibrates, like he’s remembering who Jake Callahan is.
Most men would piss themselves if Jake looked at them that way. Turner just reaches into his pocket—slowly, of course—and pulls out several small red pins. "I brought you something."
He holds them up like he's offering frankincense. I have to strain to figure out what they are. Campaign pins that say TURNER FOR GOVERNOR.
Turner smiles. "Figured you might want to get on board early. I'm building something here, Jake. Something bigger than Iron Ridge. Bigger than Montana, even."
"Not interested," Jake says flatly.
"Hear me out." Turner's smile doesn't falter.
His eyes sweep across the three men, assessing and calculating.
"You're smart guys. You know how the world works.
You do what needs to be done to protect what's yours.
I respect that. Hell, I admire it. You've seen how things really operate.
Systems fail. Bureaucracy gets in the way.
Sometimes you have to step outside the lines to get the job done. "
My jaw clenches so hard it hurts. I'm exhausted—I barely slept after confronting my father, after Luke held me together while I pulled it together again. And now this man, this predator who baited my father, stands here acting like he's offering legitimate business opportunities.
"We're not so different, you and me," he continues, his tone conversational. "We both understand that survival isn't about playing by the rules. It's about making the hard calls."
"We're nothing like you," Luke says, his voice low and dangerous.
Turner's gaze shifts to Luke, and his smile widens. "Luke Bennett. I hear you’re an explosives expert. A man who gets things done. I could use someone like you."
Luke doesn't respond, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand stays near his weapon.
Turner turns his attention back to Jake. "Look, I'm not here to make threats. I'm here to offer an opportunity. You have a good thing going at Blackthorn. I respect that. But like I’ve said before, there's room for collaboration. For mutual benefit."
"What kind of collaboration?" Jake asks, his tone carefully neutral.
"Land, for starters." Turner's expression shifts—still friendly but sharper now.
His eyes flick past the men to where Emma and I stand on the porch.
“Emma, you're looking well. Pregnancy agrees with you.
But it must be a lot of work, running a ranch on your own in the face of motherhood.
All those responsibilities. All that pressure. "
Emma's hand tightens on my back, but her voice is steady. "I manage just fine."
"I'm sure you do." Turner's smile is sympathetic, understanding.
"But it doesn't have to be so hard. I could take that burden off your hands. Make it worth your while. You could focus on what’s important to you, like your family and your photography.
Building a life that doesn't require quite so much sacrifice. "
Is that a threat? It sounds like a threat.
I don't even realize I'm moving until I'm at the edge of the porch, my entire body coiled to launch at him. Every instinct I have is screaming to protect Emma, to shut this predator down, to make him pay for what he did to my father and what he's trying to do to everyone in Iron Ridge.
Somehow, Luke catches me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Lifting me off my feet, his body angles between me and the steps. "Easy, sunshine," he murmurs for my ears only.
I struggle to pull free, but he doesn't let go. His eyes meet mine, steady and grounding. I can practically hear him saying, Hold it together.
Turner is watching, his smile knowing. "Deputy Garrett. Such a pleasure to see you here."
"She's not on duty," Luke says, his voice flat.
"I can see that." Turner's eyes flicker between us but there’s no surprise in what he sees, like he knew we’re together. Could my dad have told him?
"Circle H isn't for sale," Jake says, drawing Turner's attention back. "And we’re not interested in a collaboration. So if that's all you came to say, you can leave."
Turner doesn't look offended. If anything, he looks pleased, like he got exactly what he came for. "Fair enough. But the offer stands." He sets the campaign pins on the porch railing. "Think about it. You know where to find me. Appreciate your time, gentlemen. Ladies."
He tips his head in a mock salute and walks back to his truck, unhurried and confident like he owns the place. Like he owns all of us.
I watch him go, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. Luke's still holding me back, keeping me from doing something reckless, which is just as well because I’m on a hair trigger.
The truck's engine starts. Cole pulls away, gravel crunching under his tires.
The moment he's out of sight, Luke releases me.
I spin toward him, my voice shaking with barely controlled fury. "He just walked up here and—"
"It’s not the first time," Luke says.
"He threatened Emma. He threatened all of you. And he did it with a smile." My hands are shaking. "That's the man who destroyed my father, who's been killing people and stealing their land for five years, and he just stood there like he's running for student council."
"I know." Luke's hands come up to frame my face, forcing me to look at him. "I know, Harper."
I'm breathing too fast, my chest tight. The lack of sleep, the confrontation with my father, and now this—it's all crashing down on me at once.
"Usually it's me someone needs to pull back from the edge," Luke says. There's a hint of dark humor in his voice. "Gotta say, sunshine, I'm not used to being the calm one."
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "This isn't funny."
He rubs his thumb along my lip. "No, it's not."
Jake moves closer, his expression grim. "He's not afraid of us."
"He thinks he’s protected," Mason says. "That's why he walked up here like he owns the place."
"The Turners have always been that way, and he’s the worst," I say, my voice raw. "He thinks he owns all of it. The land. The people. My father." I look at Emma, who's pale but steady. "You."
Emma steps forward, her jaw set. "He's not getting Circle H."
"No, he’s not." Jake’s gaze sweeps over all of us. “He’s not here to win votes. He’s here to remind us he’s watching.”
A cold shiver works its way down my spine. For the first time since Turner drove away, I realize we didn’t just survive a campaign stop. We were warned.