Page 68 of Boulder's Weight

Boulder seems to struggle with the question, or maybe with the answer. "Because you did the right thing," he says finally. "You saw evil and you stood against it, even knowing what it would cost you. Even when it was your own blood."

It’s so unexpected, the way he means every word. It hits me deep.

And just like that, I feel tears creeping up—something I haven’t felt in a long, long time.

"The club has a code," he continues. "We don't always walk the right side of the law, but there are lines we don't cross. What your father did—" His jaw tightens. "Men like that don't deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of us."

I search his face, looking for any sign that he's lying, that this is some elaborate game to use me for club politics.

But all I see is how much he cares.

"So what happens now?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Now you stay here, where it's safe," he says, the decision already made. "You keep working at the café with protection. And we deal with your brothers."

I shake my head. "My brothers are dangerous, Boulder. You don't know what they're capable of."

"So am I," he responds, a cold edge to his voice that reminds me he's not just the man who's held me through the night—he's a member of an outlaw motorcycle club, a man who lives by a different code than the rest of society. "And they've fucked with what's mine. That doesn't end well for them."

The possessiveness in his words should frighten me.

Instead, it sends a strange warmth spreading through my chest.

For so long, I've belonged to no one, counted on no one.

The idea of being claimed—being protected—is both terrifying and tempting.

I sink onto the edge of the bed, the weight of everything that's happened tonight finally hitting me.

My secret is out.

Boulder knows who I really am.

And now I'm sitting in a biker clubhouse while my brothers are starting to get closer to me.

I don’t know what I would have done if Boulder wasn’t around.

"You should get some sleep," Boulder says, his voice softening. "Take the bed. I'll crash on the couch."

I look up at him, surprised by the offer.

Every other time we've shared a space, we've also shared a bed—usually after tearing each other's clothes off.

"Don't," I say before I can think better of it. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

Boulder studies me for a moment, then nods, understanding what I'm asking for.

Not sex, not tonight.

Just the comfort of another human being.

I know having his giant, muscular body beside me will make me feel safer than anything else tonight.

As I get ready for bed, using Boulder's bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, I catch my reflection in the mirror.

I barely recognize the woman staring back at me—eyes wide with fear, face pale with stress.

Who am I now?

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