Unwanted Blood (Harper) novel Chapter 42

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Chapter 42

We down stairs. Ryder and Colton were already waiting for me in the living room. I took a seat on the couch.

“I opened it,” I said. “The USB. Everything is in there. Westbrook’s laundering records. Emails with government officials. The port cover-up. Mother’s statement. It’s all there.”

Ryder’s knuckles went white.

“Publishing this will be dangerous,” he said quietly. “They’ll come after you. With everything they have. Lawyers. Money. People who make problems disappear.”

“So what?” I turned to face him. “I keep running? I keep hiding? I let them win because I’m scared?”

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

He turned his head and looked at me. His eyes were bloodshot. “I’m saying you don’t do it alone.” His voice was low, steady. “Not this time. Let me help. Let us help. All of us. You plan it. You lead it. But you don’t carry it by yourself.”

I stared at him. The old bitterness rose up in my throat, automatic, like a reflex I couldn’t control.

“Your version of help was locking me in a room for sixteen years and telling me not to speak. I don’t need that kind of help.”

He flinched. He didn’t defend himself.

I let the silence stretch. Then I exhaled, slow and sharp.

“But this time… I need your resources. Your lawyers. Your media contacts. Your security team. Not because you’re my brother.” I met his eyes. “Because you’re useful.”

He nodded once. “Okay.”

Over the next two days, we threw ourselves into preparations.

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Chapter 42

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I pored over the files Mom had left behind, organizing them one by one. This time, I intended to put an end to everything.

I took another large swallow of iced coffee, hoping the caffeine would keep me going.

Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from Marcus.

“You bitch, you lied to me! You took the real USB drive!”

“But you really think Westbrook is going to let you leak those documents? You’re being watched. Every move. Every conversation.”

Then a photo attached. Ethan was tied to a metal platform on the second floor, tape over his mouth and his face pale.

The next message came through before I could breathe:

“Tomorrow. Noon. The port warehouse-Dock 7. Bring the original documents. Come alone. Or Ethan pays for your choices.”

My fingers went numb, then I threw my phone onto the couch.

It hit the cushions and slid onto the floor, screen still lit.

Lily came into the bedroom in her socks, hair in a messy bun. She took one look at my face, bent down, and picked up the phone.

She read the messages. Her face drained of color.

“Harper-”

“Don’t.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Not yet.”

Ryder arrived ten minutes later. He crossed the door in three long strides.

He read the messages. His face went from pale to something darker.

“You’re not going,” he said immediately. “It’s a trap. He’ll have people waiting.”

“I know it’s a trap.” I was sitting at the kitchen counter, my hands flat on the laminate, staring at nothing. “But Ethan isn’t part of this. He doesn’t deserve to be collateral damage.”

“Then we call the police.”

“The police?” I looked up at him, a bitter laugh catching in my throat. “The police with

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Chapter 42

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