Page 76 of Boulder's Weight

Something flickers in those dark eyes—surprise, then calculation. "Don't have a sister anymore. Not since she betrayed the family."

"Funny, because she's very much alive. And now she's under my protection. Club protection."

The door closes, then reopens fully.

Benji Warlow stands before me, dressed casually in jeans and a button-up shirt.

He looks like any other businessman—no visible tattoos, clean-cut, nothing to suggest the monster Kelsey described.

But his eyes give him away—cold, predatory, assessing.

Behind him, a larger man lounges on one of the beds, muscular arms crossed over his chest.

Craig, I assume.

The fighter. His build reminds me of a heavyweight boxer gone slightly to seed, but still dangerous.

"Reapers Rejects MC," Benji says, reading my cut with a smirk. "Didn't know my sister was into bikers now. Seems she'll do anything to feel safe."

I keep myself calm, even though all I want to do is smash his head into the wall. "Whatever history you have with her, it's done. She's claimed now. That means you come near her, you deal with me. And the entire club."

Craig snorts from the bed. "Hear that, Benj? Little sister's got herself a guard dog."

"Family business is family business," Benji says, his voice reasonable, almost pleasant. "This doesn't concern your club. Cady betrayed blood. That debt gets paid."

"Her name is Kelsey now," I correct him, "and you're in club territory. Everything here concerns us. Especially anyone threatening what's mine."

Benji studies me, his head tilted slightly. "You don't look patched in to me, prospect. Playing at being a big man with my sister won't earn you that."

"Patched or not, I have the full backing of my charter. You want a war with the Reapers Rejects, keep pursuing her. Otherwise, pack up and head back to Montana."

Craig rises from the bed now, moving to stand beside his brother.

Up close, I can see the family resemblance between them and Kelsey—same shaped eyes, similar jawline.

But where her face shows compassion, theirs hold only cold calculation.

"And if we're not just here for her?" Benji asks, his tone almost conversational. "Maybe we have business in Chihuahua. Maybe your little club is interfering with that."

"Then you should have checked who runs this city before setting up shop," Brick interjects, speaking for the first time. "Because it sure as hell isn't you."

There's tense silence, the air heavy with unspoken threats.

I keep my eyes locked on Benji's, refusing to back down.

Finally, he smiles—a cold, empty expression that doesn't reach his eyes. "I'll take your message under consideration, prospect. Family matters are... complicated. As I'm sure you understand."

"Nothing complicated about it," I respond. "Stay away from Kelsey, or there will be consequences. That's the only warning you get."

I step back from the doorway, signaling the conversation is over.

But as I turn to leave, Benji calls after me.

"Did she tell you everything, prospect? About why she turned on us? About what she stole before she ran?"

I don't take the bait, don't even slow my pace.

But the questions echo in my mind as Brick and I head back down the stairs.

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