Page 73 of Boulder's Weight

"Among other things." I watch her face closely. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than expected," she admits. "Your bed's more comfortable than mine."

"Our bed now," I correct her without thinking.

When her eyebrow raises, I backtrack slightly. "For as long as you're staying here. Which, before you ask, is until we figure out how to deal with your brothers. Non-negotiable."

She looks like she wants to argue, but instead sighs, shoulders slumping slightly. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Boulder. I never wanted anyone else at risk because of me."

I reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture more intimate than I’d like it to be. "I can handle myself. And your brothers."

"You don't know them," she says, her voice dropping. "Benji especially. He's... he's not right. Hasn't been since our mom died."

"Tell me about them," I urge, realizing I need to know more if I'm going to confront them. "What am I dealing with here?"

Kelsey sets down her coffee, rubbing her arms as if suddenly cold. "Benji's the oldest. Thirty-two. He was our father's right hand for years, helping with the 'business.' After our father went to prison, he took over what was left. Mostly distribution networks, contacts. He's calculating, patient. Doesn't act out of anger—it's always about control."

She pauses, swallowing hard. "Craig's different. Twenty-nine. Follows Benji's lead, always has. He's the muscle—used to compete in underground fighting. Has a temper but isn't stupid. Won't make a move without Benji's say-so."

I process this information, filing it away for later. "And Sam? You mentioned he helped you."

Her expression softens slightly. "Sam's the baby. Twenty-four. Always had a conscience. He's the one who warned me to run from Bozeman. I don't think he's involved in finding me now. He'd never hurt me."

"And they're here in Chihuahua? You're sure that was Craig's truck?"

She nods, her eyes haunted. "I'd recognize it anywhere. Same model, same dent in the passenger door from when he backed into a fire hydrant a few years ago."

I wrap an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against me. "They won't touch you. I promise."

She leans into me, her body warm against mine. "What happens now? With the club, I mean. With us."

"Now you stay where it's safe. Work at the café with protection. Let me and the club deal with your brothers."

"And us?" she presses, looking up at me with those whiskey-brown eyes. "What does claiming mereallymean, Boulder?"

I hesitate, not sure how to answer.

The truth is, I don't fully know myself.

Last night was an instinctive reaction—seeing her vulnerable, threatened, and deciding no one would hurt her on my watch.

The possessiveness I felt was immediate and overwhelming.

"It means you're under my protection," I say finally. "That the club sees you as connected to me, which extends our resources to keeping you safe."

"And that's all?"

"For now," I murmur, not ready to think about how my feelings are growing for her. "Let's focus on keeping you alive first. We can figure out the rest as we go."

She nods, accepting this answer for the moment. "I should call Astra. She'll need to know why I'm not at work today."

"Already handled," I tell her. "Amara called her after the meeting. You've got a few days off while we assess the situation. After that, you'll go back with protection—probably me or Brick shadowing you."

"So, I'm just supposed to sit here and wait?" she asks, frustration creeping into her tone.

"For today, yes. We need to sweep the café, make sure it's secure." I stand, offering her my hand. "But that doesn't mean you're a prisoner. Come on, let me show you around the compound. If you're staying here, you should know how things work."

She takes my hand, allowing me to pull her to her feet. "Lead the way, prospect."

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