Page 79 of Boulder's Weight

With a frustrated sigh, I brush past him and head toward his—our—room to change.

***

The café feels different with Brick lurking near the door, his presence both reassuring and unsettling.

Customers give him some space, some eyeing his cut nervously as they order their coffee.

Astra acts like nothing has changed, chatting with regulars and ordering me around the café as usual.

It's almost normal, except for the fact we’re being watched—by Brick, by Boulder who stops in twice during my shift, by Benji who could be anywhere.

I'm wiping down tables during a slow patch when I overhear a customer mention something that makes my blood freeze.

"Yeah, these two guys were showing her picture around at the bar last night. Asking if anyone had seen her."

I keep my head down, straining to hear more while pretending to be absorbed in what I’m doing.

"What kind of guys?" his companion asks.

The guy is obviously American, but it seems like he’s been around Chihuahua for a while by the way he’s speaking. "Business types, but shady, you know? The kind that make you want to walk on the other side of the street. That’s saying a lot being here."

My hands begin to shake, and I knock over a saltshaker, drawing their attention.

They immediately fall silent, and I mumble an apology before retreating to the back room.

Once alone, I press my back against the wall, trying to steady my breathing.

They're looking for me, showing my picture around town.

How did they get a photo of me as Kelsey?

The only explanation is that they've been watching me longer than I realized.

The room starts to spin as panic claws its way up my throat.

I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the floor, knees pulled to my chest, struggling to draw air into my lungs.

I don't hear the back door open, don't realize I'm no longer alone until strong hands grip my shoulders.

"Kelsey." Boulder's voice cuts through the fog of panic. "Breathe. Look at me."

I force my eyes open to find him crouched in front of me, concern etched into his features.

His green eyes bore into mine. "In through your nose," he instructs, one hand moving to cup my cheek. "Out through your mouth. With me."

I follow his lead, matching my breathing to his pattern.

Gradually, the tightness in my chest eases, the room stops spinning, and awareness returns.

"How did you know?" I whisper once I can speak again.

He strokes his thumb across my cheekbone. "I just knew something was wrong. Call it instinct."

I become aware that we're not alone.

Astra stands in the doorway, and behind her, Oakleigh, who must have come in with Boulder.

Both women watch us with expressions I can't quite read.

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