Page 13 of Montana Justice

Lachlan

The familiar warmth of Draper’s Tavern wrapped around me as I pushed through the heavy wooden door.

Pool balls cracked against each other from the back corner, and someone’s laugh—too loud, probably three beers in—cut through the general din of conversation.

The wooden floor stuck slightly under my boots where someone had spilled something sweet.

I had a son.

The thought slammed into me again, making my chest tight.

My hands actually trembled as I shoved them deep into my pockets.

Three days. Three days of staring at Caleb’s face and seeing my own eyes looking back.

Three days of watching Piper move through my house like a ghost, clutching our child like someone might snatch him away.

Our child. Jesus.

Behind the bar, Marcus caught my eye and raised an eyebrow in question. I nodded, and he started pulling a pint without a word. The glass was cold against my palm when he slid it across, condensation already beading on the surface.

“Lach! There you are!”

Beckett’s voice carried across the tavern.

I turned to see him at a corner table with Lucas and Hunter.

My shoulders tensed. Part of me wanted to take my beer and disappear, find some dark corner to sort through the mess in my head.

The anger that kept bubbling up at odd moments—while brushing my teeth, making coffee, watching Piper feed Caleb.

Fury at her for running, for stealing, for keeping my son from me.

But these men were brothers in every way that mattered. I forced my feet to move.

“Look who finally emerges from hibernation.” Hunter’s sharp gaze tracked over me, cataloging everything. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks. Really needed to hear that.” I dropped into the empty chair hard enough to make it creak.

“Seriously, though, where’ve you been?” Beckett leaned back, studying me. “Jenny said you took personal time a couple days ago. Thought she was going to fall over from shock.”

“Something came up.”

Lucas set down his paperwork. “The kind of something that has you white-knuckling that glass?”

I looked down. My knuckles were indeed white around the pint glass. I forced my grip to loosen, took a long pull of beer that tasted like sawdust in my mouth.

“Lach?” Beckett’s voice had lost its teasing edge. “What’s going on?”

My phone felt like a lead weight as I pulled it out. My thumb hovered over the photo for a heartbeat—Caleb smiling, one tiny fist curled against his cheek. I set the phone on the scarred wooden table and slid it toward them.

“I have a son.”

The silence stretched like a held breath. Hunter reached for the phone first, his expression shifting from surprise to something harder.

“When did this happen?” Lucas asked.

“He’s almost five months old.”

“Five months?” Beckett’s head snapped up, his mental math quick. “That would mean?—”

“About a year ago, yeah.” The beer turned bitter on my tongue. “Remember when I told you about Piper Matthews?”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s Piper Matthews?”

Beckett laughed. “She’s the woman studly here had a one-night stand with this time last year. She and her family lived here when she was a kid, before they got run out of town because her father was scamming people.”

I didn’t even want to get into that. “She was passing through a year ago, and we hooked up. She took off the next morning without a word.”

Beckett was still chuckling. “Come on, now. Don’t leave out the best part.”

I let out a sigh, glaring at my best friend. “When she left, she helped herself to the cash contents of my wallet and my favorite coat.”

Lucas picked up my phone, studying the photo with tactical intensity. “And you’re sure the baby is yours? Math isn’t quite right.”

“Caleb was born early.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Piper tell you that?”

My jaw clenched, but I pulled up the comparison photos. Baby pictures I’d spent hours staring at last night instead of sleeping. Me, my brother, my sister. The Calloway chin, the dark eyes, even the way his hair stuck up in the same spot mine always had. I showed the images to my friends.

“Jesus.” Beckett whistled low. “That’s definitely your kid.”

“When did you find out?” Lucas asked.

“Three days ago. She showed up at the grocery store trying to steal baby formula.”

I told them everything. The words came out choppy, broken. How she’d collapsed in the parking lot. The way she’d sobbed when she finally admitted Caleb was mine. Dr. Rankine’s examination, the old injuries that made bile rise in my throat.

“So, she’s staying with you now?” Hunter’s voice had gone flat. “The woman who robbed you.”

“She and Caleb, yeah.”

“And you’re just okay with that?” Hunter leaned forward, his scarred hands flat on the table. “She steals from you, disappears for a year, shows up with a baby she claims is yours?—”

“He is mine.” The words came out sharp enough to cut.

“Fine. But what’s her angle? Why now? Why come back here when she could have hit you up for child support through the courts?”

My muscles coiled tight. “She’s not doing well. Exhausted, malnourished?—”

“Convenient.” Hunter’s mouth twisted. “Shows up looking pathetic right when she needs something.”

“You didn’t see her, Hunter. She nearly passed out. She’s been barely eating so she could feed Caleb?—”

“According to her.”

“According to the doctor who examined her.” My fist hit the table, making our glasses jump. The conversation at the next table stuttered to a stop before resuming. “Jesus, Hunter, she’s got old fractures. Scar tissue from years of abuse.”

“Could be from anything. Bar fights, accidents?—”

“Or from getting the shit beat out of her repeatedly.” Lucas’s quiet voice cut through. “I know what abuse victims look like, Hunter. So do you.”

Hunter sat back, his expression still skeptical. “I’m just saying, the timing is suspicious. She could have reached out months ago. Why wait until she’s desperate?”

“Maybe because she knew I’d react exactly like you are right now?” The words tasted like copper. “Maybe because she was scared?”

“Or maybe because she was with someone else and that didn’t work out, so now she’s coming to you as Plan B.” Hunter’s gaze didn’t waver. “Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole?—”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“—but someone needs to ask the hard questions. You’re letting her live in your house. What if she takes off again? What if she’s playing you?”

My hands clenched and unclenched under the table.

Part of me—the part that had woken up to an empty bed and a missing wallet—agreed with every word Hunter was saying.

But then I pictured Piper’s face when she held Caleb.

The way she’d positioned herself between him and the door, even while sleeping on my couch.

“If she is, then she is. He’s still my kid.”

“So what do you want to do?” Beckett asked, always the peacemaker.

“I want to be a father to Caleb. That’s not negotiable.” The certainty steadied me. “But Piper…”

“More complicated?”

“Yeah.” I rolled the glass between my palms, watching the amber liquid swirl. “I can forgive what she did. But something’s off. She cries all the time and seems terrified of everything.”

“Could be a general trauma response,” Lucas offered. “When Evelyn first came to the ranch, she jumped at shadows for months. Of course, ended up she had a psychotic ex who was after her.”

I stared into my glass. If someone came after Piper the way Evelyn’s ex had come after her, I would do everything in my power to protect her, no matter the circumstances.

“She won’t talk about much of anything. I don’t know where she’s been or what’s been happening. She just said she’s been moving around.”

“With a premature baby.” Hunter’s tone made it clear what he thought of that story.

The man was a good friend, former Special Forces when he’d been in the military. He’d seen and done some shit in his life and had paid a high price for it. He didn’t trust easily.

There was nobody I’d rather have at my back during a fight. But he needed to stand down.

“What are you suggesting I do, Hunter? Kick her and my son out? Demand a DNA test?” My voice had gone dangerously quiet.

“I’m suggesting you protect yourself. Get a legal custody agreement. Document everything. Install some security cameras if you haven’t already?—”

My face must have given something away because Hunter stopped mid-sentence.

“You already did.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “Good. Smart.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Never said you were. Just making sure you’re thinking with your brain and not—” He gestured vaguely.

“My dick? Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“That’s not what he meant,” Lucas intervened. “We’re worried about you. This is a lot to process.”

“You think I don’t know that?” The words exploded out of me. “You think I haven’t been up every night wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do? How to be a father to a baby I just met? How to help a woman who flinches when I move too fast? Christ, I’m completely out of my depth here.”

The admission hung in the air. My chest heaved like I’d been running. At the next table, someone dropped quarters into the jukebox, and Johnny Cash’s voice filled the sudden silence.

“You’re doing fine,” Beckett said quietly. “Better than fine. You’re stepping up.”

“Hunter’s not wrong, though.” I forced the words out. “I don’t trust her. Not completely. I want to trust her, but…”

“But she’s already betrayed that trust once.” Hunter’s voice had gentled. “Look, I get it. And you helped me with Jada last year, put everything on the line, no questions asked. So what I’m saying is not just me being an asshole. It’s me trying to look out for you.”

“What would you do?” I asked him directly. “If it was your kid?”

Hunter was quiet for a long moment. “Same thing you’re doing, probably. Try to protect the kid while keeping one eye on the mother. It’s a shit situation.”

“Yeah. It is.”

We drank in silence, the weight of it all pressing down. I scrubbed a hand over my face. I didn’t want to talk about the Piper situation anymore. Not until I got it more figured out in my head.

“Speaking of shit situations.” I pulled my phone back from the middle of the table. “We had another overdose this morning.”

Three heads snapped up.

“Another one?” Lucas’s voice was grim. “That’s two this week.”

“College kid from Billings, visiting friends at Montana Tech.” My jaw tightened. “Fentanyl-laced pills. They couldn’t revive him.”

“Fuck.” Beckett ran a hand through his hair. “How old?”

“Nineteen.” The number sat heavy in my gut. “Kid had his whole life ahead of him. Now, his parents are driving down from Great Falls to identify the body.”

“Same source as the last one?” Hunter had shifted into tactical mode.

“Similar pills, same blue marking. The state lab is running tests, but I’d bet money it’s the same batch.

” I took another pull of beer, trying to wash away the image of that kid’s face.

“The high school’s implementing emergency protocols.

Training staff on naloxone administration, keeping doses in the nurse’s office. ”

“It’s spreading fast,” Lucas observed. “Two deaths in a week means there’re probably dozens more using who haven’t overdosed yet.”

“That’s what keeps me up at night.” Well, that and everything else. “We need to find the source before more kids die.”

“Could be connected to the weapons trafficking we’ve been tracking,” Hunter said. “Same networks often run multiple products. Use the same distribution channels, same storage facilities.”

“Any new intel on that?”

“Actually, yeah.” Hunter pulled out his phone, showing me a map with several locations marked. “Increased activity around these abandoned properties north of town. Vehicles coming and going at odd hours, lights when buildings should be empty.”

I memorized the locations. “I’ll get extra patrols up there. Quiet surveillance for now—we don’t want to spook them before we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Warrior Security team can help with that,” Hunter offered. “We’ve got some new surveillance equipment that might be useful. Thermal imaging, long-range cameras.”

“I’ll take whatever help you can give.” Pride had no place when kids were dying. “This is bigger than what my department can handle alone.”

“What about bringing in the DEA?” Beckett asked.

“Already made the call. They’re stretched thin, said it could be weeks before they can send anyone.” My frustration bled through. Small towns weren’t always the DEA’s priority. “By then, how many more kids will be dead?”

“So, we handle it ourselves,” Lucas said simply. “Between your department and Warrior Security, we’ve got the resources.”

“Carefully,” I emphasized. “By the book. I want arrests that stick, not cowboys playing hero.”

Hunter’s smile was sharp. “When have we ever played cowboy?”

“Jada’s kidnapping ring any bells?”

“That was different. That was personal.”

“This is personal too.” The words came out harder than I intended. “Every dead kid is personal when it’s your town.”

We sat with that for a moment. Outside, the October wind rattled the tavern’s windows, reminding us that winter was coming. More darkness, more cold. More places for dealers to hide.

“We’ll coordinate tomorrow,” Hunter said finally. “Set up a surveillance schedule, pool our intel.”

“Good.” I stood, suddenly exhausted. “I should get home.”

“To your ready-made family.” Beckett’s attempt at lightness fell flat. “Hell of a week for you, Lach.”

“Yeah.” I pulled on my jacket. “Hell of a week.”

The cold air hit me as I stepped outside, sharp and clean after the tavern’s warmth. Somewhere in this town, dealers were peddling death to kids. Somewhere else, weapons were being stockpiled for God knew what purpose.

And in my house, a woman and child waited. One I didn’t trust; one I’d die to protect.

Hunter was right. It was a shit situation.

But it was mine to handle.