Page 102 of Boulder's Weight

"Not my blood," I assure her. "Well, not most of it."

She moves closer, her hands reaching for mine, turning them over to examine my raw knuckles.

Her touch is gentle as she looks over me, checking for any real damage.

"You should clean these," she says, her voice carefully neutral. "They could get infected."

I let her lead me to the bathroom, where she sits me on the edge of the tub and starts running warm water.

There's something strangely intimate about this moment—her kneeling in front of me, washing blood from my hands.

She focuses on my hands, not looking up at me. "Successful run?"

"Very," I confirm. "Andrés is down one stash house and a few men."

She nods, focused on cleaning a nasty scrape across my knuckles. "Good."

"Got a text from Craig," I say, watching her reaction carefully. "Wants to meet tomorrow. Says he has information about Benji's plans."

Her hands pause momentarily, then she keeps cleaning my wounds. "Are you going?"

"Thinkin’ about it," I admit. "His intel's been solid so far."

"He could be setting you up," she points out, her voice carefully even.

"Could be," I agree. "But I don't think so. There's something about him—he seems genuinely disgusted with Benji, with your father."

Kelsey is quiet for a moment, patting my hands dry with a towel. "Remember, Craig was always the follower, never the leader. There has to be a reason he’s breaking away from Benji, if that’s what he’s doing."

"What kind of reason?"

She shrugs, avoiding my eyes. "Maybe he's finally growing a conscience. Maybe Benji's gone too far even for him. Or maybe he's playing an angle I can't see."

I catch her chin with my fingers, tilting her face up to look at me. "What do you think I should do?"

The question seems to surprise her. "You're asking me?"

"It's your brother," I say simply. "You know him better than I do."

She considers this, her whiskey-brown eyes thoughtful. "Meet him. But not alone. And somewhere public, neutral ground."

I nod. "I'll take Brick."

"And be careful," she adds, her hand coming to rest on my forearm. "Just because Craig might be having second thoughts doesn't mean he's not dangerous."

I cover her hand with mine, feeling the delicate bones beneath her skin. "I'm always careful, Montana."

She raises an eyebrow, pointedly looking at my bloodied, split knuckles. "Clearly."

A laugh bursts through, surprising both of us.

There's something about the way she calls me out on my bullshit that gets me every time.

"I'm getting better," I defend myself, grinning.

Her expression softens, and she looks at me with something I can't quite define—something that makes my heart rate pick up. "Yes, you are."

The air between us shifts, charged with what we’ve been trying to ignore, or at least what I’ve been trying to ignore.

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