Page 123 of Boulder's Weight

I move toward the back room, fear tightening my chest. "Astra? Luna?"

Rooster takes the lead, pushing the door open with his gun ready.

"Clear," he calls after a moment. "No one's here."

I follow him into the back room, confusion rolling through me.

Everything looks normal—supplies stacked neatly on shelves, cleaning supplies in their proper places, Astra's rain jacket still hanging on its hook.

"This doesn't make sense," I say, turning in a circle. "She called me. Said it was an emergency."

A floorboard creaks behind us.

We all whirl around to see Astra standing in the doorway, her face pale.

"Astra!" Relief floods through me. "What happened? Where are the?—"

The words die in my throat as she steps aside, revealing a man behind her—a man with a gun pressed to her back.

"I’m so sorry, Kelsey," she whispers, tears streaming down her face. "They have Python."

More men appear behind her, weapons drawn.

I count five, but there could be more hiding out of sight.

The leader steps forward, his face vaguely familiar from surveillance photos Sam showed the club.

I remember this guy now. He’s one of Andrés' lieutenants.

"Nice and easy now," he says in accented English. "Nobody needs to get hurt."

Rooster and Lashes raise their weapons, but they're outnumbered.

We’re trapped, and there’s hardly any room for cover.

"Put them down," the man orders. "Or the redhead gets a new hole in her spine."

"Don't," Astra says, her voice steadier than it has any right to be. "Just go, get out of here."

The leader tightens his grip on her, making her wince. "Put the guns down. Now."

Sam steps forward slightly, his hands raised. "Let's all stay calm here. What do you want?"

"The woman." The man jerks his chin toward me. "Just her. The rest of you can walk away."

"Not gonna happen," Rooster growls.

It all happens so fast after that.

Sam lunges at the nearest gunman, knocking his weapon aside.

Rooster and Lashes open fire, driving Astra's captor back.

I dive for cover behind a stack of metal shelving.

Gunshots echo in the small space, and my heart is beating so fast I think it might break through my chest.

Through the chaos, Sam wrestles with one of the men, his face contorted in pain as he takes hits to his already injured ribs.

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