Page 66 of Boulder's Weight

We slip out the back entrance of the building, Boulder constantly scanning our surroundings, body tense and ready.

His bike is parked in the shadows, away from the main street.

"Get on," he murmurs, handing me the helmet. "And for the love of God, you’d better hold on tight."

I don't need to be told twice.

I wrap my arms around his waist as he starts the engine, keeping it as quiet as possible until we're far enough away to open up the throttle.

The night air whips past us as we speed through the streets of Chihuahua, taking a winding route that I realize is designed to throw off any potential tail.

Boulder knows what he's doing—of course, he does. This is what he lives and breathes every day.

When we finally arrive at the clubhouse, the club is bustling with activity even though it’s pretty late.

He parks the bike, keeping me close as we approach the main building.

I feel eyes on us from every direction—curious, assessing, some even look hostile.

I've been to the clubhouse before, but always as Boulder's hookup, and I stayed pretty incognito if I do say so myself.

This feels different.

Inside, several members are gathered around a table, deep in a conversation that stops abruptly when we enter.

Amara is there, her sharp eyes taking in the backpack on my shoulder, the tension in Boulder's stance.

Her voice is neutral, but she doesn’t look happy. "What's this?"

"We have a situation," Boulder says, keeping his hand on the small of my back. "Kelsey is being hunted by her brothers."

The room erupts in questions and curses.

I shrink back against Boulder, overwhelmed by the sudden focus on me.

"Everyone shut the fuck up," Amara commands, and the noise dies instantly.

She turns her attention to me. "Start talking."

So I do.

I give them the condensed version—who I am, what my father did, why my brothers want me dead.

I leave out the most graphic details, but make sure they understand the severity of the situation.

When I finish, the room is silent.

I can feel their judgment, their assessment of whether I'm worth the trouble.

Whether I've brought danger to their door.

"Did Tara know all this when she sent you here?" Amara asks.

I nod. "She said the club protects its own. That you'd understand."

"She's right," a voice says from the doorway. I turn to see Astra stepping into the room. "We protect our own, and nothing is going to happen to you."

I didn’t expect to see her here—though I should have known she'd be called when Boulder brought me in.

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