Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Boulder
I drum my fingers against the handlebars of my Harley as I pull up to the rundown building at the edge of Chihuahua.
I needed to clear my head, get on my bike and ride around after the shitshow that happened at CatsandJava earlier today.
The sun beats down mercilessly, making the leather of my cut stick to my back.
Sweat trickles between my shoulder blades, a constant reminder that Mexico's heat doesn't fuck around.
It’s humid as all fuck here, but back in Montana it isn’t as bad.
I spot Razor leaning against the wall, cigarette dangling from his lips, a scowl etched deep in his face.
Axel and Python are there too. Axel’s pacing like a caged animal, his tribal tattoos rippling with each movement.
Killing the engine, I swing my leg over and approach them.
Razor's expression doesn't improve when he sees me.
"What's going on?" I ask, running a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. "You got that look on your face."
Razor takes a long drag of his cigarette, then flicks it to the ground, crushing it under his boot. " Este pendejo idiota piensa que puede amenazarnos ," he mutters, switching to Spanish like he often does when he's pissed. " Juro por Dios que le cortaré las pelotas y se las meteré por la garganta. "
I nod, understanding most of what he said.
My Spanish has improved significantly since moving to Mexico.
One of the benefits of immersion and having a charter with some bilingual brothers, like Razor.
Six months ago, I'd have been lost in the conversation, but now I can pick up the important parts—this idiot thinks he can threaten us, and he’s going to cut off his balls and shove them down his throat.
Typical Tuesday for the club, I guess.
"Which idiot are we talking about?" I ask, leaning against the sun-baked wall beside Razor.
Axel stops pacing and claps me on the shoulder, his grip firm enough to show he's not in a playful mood. "The one Razor’s planning anatomically impossible surgeries for," he says with a smirk. "That fucker Andrés."
Andrés, the one screwing with the businesses under club protection.
Python’s eyes scan the street as he talks, always on alert.
That's why he's the Enforcer—never lets his guard down. "Been making noise about businesses under our protection. Specifically, my woman's café."
My stomach drops. "CatsAndJava? Astra's place?"
"Yeah," Python confirms, pulling out another cigarette. His hands are steady as he lights it, but I can see the tension in the set of his jaw. " Pendejo thinks he can walk in and demand protection money when they're already paying us."
"Just to clarify," Axel chimes in, a dangerous glint in his eye, "they're not really 'paying us' like we're the mafia or some shit. They're legitimate businesses, we have legitimate partnerships with."
"Semantics," Python grunts, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Point is, this fucker's threatening my woman's place. That's crossing a line."
I think about Kelsey and even though I’m pissed at her right now, I don’t want anything bad happening to her.
She works at that café alongside Astra, and the sudden need to protect her comes rushing back through me.
Sure, we've only fucked a few times, but the thought of her in danger makes my blood boil.
It was this morning I stormed out of there, pissed beyond belief that she'd lied about being "on vacation" when she's apparently moved here permanently.
"She just hired that new girl too," I say, trying to keep my tone casual. "Kelsey."
Razor’s eyebrow raises slightly. "I heard you were arguing with her earlier. The fuck was that about?"
I glance over at Python and Axel, but figure Axel’s the one with loose lips.
I run a hand through my hair, uncomfortable with the memory of our argument.
The way her eyes had flashed when I called her out on her lie, the slight tremble in her voice when she tried to explain.
I lie straight through my teeth. "Nothing. Just a misunderstanding."
"Didn't look like nothing," Python presses. "Looked like you were pretty fuckin’ pissed, brother."
"Drop it," I growl, not wanting to get into the details of how Kelsey's been playing me.
Python takes a step closer to me, eyes boring into my own. "Watch your tongue before I cut it out, prospect."
Axel laughs, the sound echoing off the brick walls around us. "Ooh, spicy over the lady. You banging her or something?"
I shoot him a look that would shut up most men, but Axel just grins wider.
Before I can tell him to go fuck himself, the rumble of a motorcycle interrupts our conversation.
We turn to see Amara pull up, her sleek black bike gleaming in the sunlight.
Our president has a presence that commands attention, and we all straighten up as she approaches.
"Razor." She nods. "You brief Boulder on the situation?"
"Just getting to it," he replies, flicking ash from his cigarette.
Amara turns to me, her gaze piercing.
There's something about female presidents that makes them twice as intimidating as the men.
Maybe it's because they've had to be twice as tough to earn the position. "I need you for surveillance duty. This Andrés fucker is becoming more than just an annoyance."
I stand a little taller. "Whatever you need, Prez."
"Good," she says, her eyes evaluating me. "You and Brick are gonna watch the café. Keep eyes on everyone who comes and goes. I want to know if Andrés shows his face, but don't engage. Just observe and report back."
I nod, feeling like this could be my chance to prove myself to the club, to show that I'm more than just the prospect who fucks and fights.
And if it means keeping an eye on the café where Kelsey works, well, that's just a bonus I'm not going to examine too closely.
I want as much intel as possible before I start. "Got it. What else can you tell me about this Andrés’ guy?"
Amara's lips curl into a cold smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "He thinks he has power in this city. Walks around like he owns the streets. But he's just a cockroach that we're going to smash."
Razor looks at Axel and Python before turning back to Amara.
There's a moment of silence between the Enforcer and Road Captain, the kind that comes from years of being in the life. "He's the cockroach, but… could he be Sally's cockroach?"
The name sends a chill through the air.
I've heard enough about Sally Bernard to know she's bad news.
Mother of Seraphina—Turmoil's old lady from the Las Vegas charter.
Sally’s husband was killed by the club years ago, and she's been on a warpath for revenge ever since.
She’s the kind of woman who'd burn down the world if it meant the club would suffer.
The cunt even killed Seraphina’s grandfather recently, just as a way to hurt her daughter. She’s a fucking sociopath.
"That's what we need to find out," Amara says grimly. "Sally's psychotic. She'll do anything to hurt this club. She's already failed to take down the Montana and Vegas charters, so now she's setting her sights on us. She thinks we’re easier to fuck with, but we’re not."
"Perfect," Axel says sarcastically, spitting on the ground. "Just what we fuckin’ needed."
I think about Kelsey again, about our fight earlier today.
The way her eyes blazed when I confronted her about lying to me. "I'm not on vacation, I moved here, okay?"
The words echo in my mind, along with how defensive she got.
She escaped the States for a reason—to run away from her family, and now she's potentially in danger because of club business.
I put the peices together pretty quickly. "So this Andrés dude could be working for Sally?"
"It's possible," Amara confirms, leaning against her bike. "Which is why we need eyes on the café. Astra hired that new girl?—"
"Kelsey," I supply automatically, then mentally kick myself for showing my hand.
Amara raises an eyebrow at me, a knowing look crossing her face. "Yeah, Kelsey. Tara from Montana recommended her highly. Said she's reliable, a good worker."
That catches my attention.
Tara's connection to Kelsey makes sense given they worked together at Tart, but there seems to be more to it.
Why would Tara specifically recommend her for a position in Mexico?
And how did Kelsey end up here, of all places, after our hookup in Montana?
"Try not to fuck her, okay?" Amara says with a smirk. "We all know you're winning the award for playboy of the century."
Axel barks out a laugh, slapping his thigh. "Yeah, 'cause he'll fuck anything that walks."
Even though shit is tense, I find myself grinning.
These guys know me too well. "Normally, I'd take offense to that, but you’re right… and Prez, I’m gonna be honest with you. I know Kelsey. I’ve hooked up with her a few times."
Python snorts, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Well, at least keep your dick in your pants while on surveillance. Need your eyes open, not rolling back in your head."
"Speaking of which," I say, trying to change the subject before they dig deeper into my business with Kelsey, "is the cartel offering any support? I know you have connections, so are they lending a few men to help us with surveillance?"
Amara licks her lips and looks right at me. “My family has men on the streets for us, as does Dante’s. Worry about what I tell you, prospect, and if I feel like giving you more intel, I will.”
"Understood, Prez," I murmur, not trying to piss her off anymore than I have.
"They've got damn good food inside," Python replies, gesturing toward the building we’re in front of. "Come on, let's get a bite before you start being our little spy."
As we head inside, my mind is racing.
There’s so much shit going on and I feel like I’m being torn in two.
The inside of the restaurant is a contrast to its shabby exterior.
Clean, well-maintained, with colorful papel picado hanging from the ceiling and the mouthwatering scent of authentic Mexican cuisine filling the air.
We settle at a corner table, backs to the wall, faces to the door—what we always do, especially in Mexico.
Sure, Amara and Dante have ties to the cartel, but we’re considered the new ones on the block, so the club has to prove themselves.
Razor orders for all of us in rapid Spanish, the waitress nodding and hurrying off with a sweet smile.
"So," I say, keeping my voice low, "what's the plan if Andrés shows up? Just watch and report?"
Amara nods, her fingers drumming on the table. "Were you not listening? Yes. You watch and report back. We need to confirm if he's working alone or if Sally's pulling his strings. Rushing in half-cocked is exactly what she wants."
"And if he tries something while we're watching?" I press.
"Use your judgment," Amara says, shooting me a stern look. "Protect the civilians, but don't escalate unless absolutely necessary. We're trying to gather intel, not start a war on our home turf."
She doesn’t want us to start a war, but hasn’t the war already been started?
The waitress returns with a pitcher of horchata and five glasses.
Axel pours for everyone, then raises his glass. "To crushing cockroaches," he says with a grin.
We clink glasses and drink. The sweet, cinnamon-laced beverage is perfect for cutting through the heat of the day.
"So what exactly has this Andrés guy been doing?" I ask, setting my glass down. "Just making threats, or has he actually moved on any of our businesses?"
Python's expression darkens. "Started with just talk. Came into the café last week, told Astra she needed 'real protection' since the club clearly couldn't keep her safe. When she told him to fuck off, he knocked over a display of coffee beans. Said it was an accident, but his message was clear."
"Subtle," I say sarcastically.
"That was just the start," Axel adds, leaning forward. "Two days ago, someone smashed the front window of Emilio's garage. No proof it was Andrés, but the timing's suspicious."
"And yesterday," Amara continues, "Andrés showed up at the café again. Told Astra that accidents happen all the time in Chihuahua. Threatened to set loose a street dog in her cat café, see how many cats made it out alive. That’s only a couple of things that’ve happened. He’s gone to other businesses as well. My guess is he’s targeting Astra’s place because of how close to the club she is."
My blood boils at the thought.
No wonder Python looks ready to murder someone. "What a piece of shit."
Python looks right at me. "What’s the deal between you two? Kelsey. Gonna be a problem for us?"
I have the decency to look slightly ashamed. "It’s complicated… we had some shit to work out."
"Clearly," Amara says dryly. "Whatever's going on between you two, sort it out on your own time. For now, I need you focused on this assignment."
"I'm focused," I assure her, grateful when the food arrives to disrupt our conversation.
The tacos are incredible—tender carne asada, fresh cilantro, and a sauce hot enough to make my eyes water.
We eat in silence for the most part, the seriousness of the situation weighing down on all of us.
"So, when do I start watching the café?" I ask between bites, wiping sauce from my chin.
"Tonight," Amara says. "You and Brick will take shifts. Keep it casual, don't draw attention. I want four-hour rotations, round the clock. And yes, that means even when they’re closed."
I nod, already thinking about how I'll approach this.
The café has a bookstore across the street with a good view of the entrance – perfect for surveillance without being obvious.
"What do we know about Andrés's background?" I ask, wanting as much intel as possible.
"Ex-military," Razor supplies. "Dishonorable discharge. Been floating around Chihuahua for about six months, slowly building a crew of local thugs."
"He's smart," Python adds grudgingly. "Keeps his distance from the actual dirty work. Hard to pin anything directly on him."
"But he's getting cocky," Amara says. "Coming into the café himself, making direct threats. Either he's stupid, or he feels protected."
"Which brings us back to Sally," I muse.
Amara nods grimly. "Exactly. If Andrés is working for Sally, this just got a lot more dangerous than a simple protection racket."
As Python and Axel debate the best way to handle Andrés if he shows, I find myself distracted by thoughts of Kelsey.
I can't stop thinking about the look on her face when I discovered her lie earlier today.
The flash of fear in her eyes wasn't just about being caught.
It was deeper, more primal.
She's terrified, and that’s why she’s running.
And now, with Sally possibly making moves in Chihuahua, I wonder if Kelsey's presence here is just a coincidence.
Why did she move here permanently?
Why was she recommended specifically by Tara?
And why is she lying to me about it all?
I’m not a fool. Earlier, I called her out on still lying to me because I have this unsettling feeling in my gut… but why? Why is she lying?
"Boulder?" Amara's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "You still with us?"
"Yeah, sorry," I say, refocusing. "Just thinking about surveillance strategies."
She doesn't look convinced, but continues anyway. "As I was saying, we've got lookouts at all our businesses. If Andrés makes a move on any of them, we'll know."
"But the café seems to be his main target," Python says, his voice tight. "Which makes no fucking sense. It's just a small place with cats and coffee."
"Unless it's not about the café itself," I suggest. "Maybe it's about sending a message. Going after the Enforcer's woman's business is a pretty direct challenge."
Amara nods slowly. "That's a good point. Or it could be that the café is the easiest target. Most of our other businesses have more physical security."
"Cats don't make the best guard dogs," Axel quips, trying to lighten the mood.
Python doesn't crack a smile. "If that fucker hurts one of those cats, I'll skin him alive."
"We'll keep them safe," I promise. "All of them."
After finishing our meal, we head back outside.
The sun is starting to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
It's beautiful, in a stark way that reminds me I'm far from Montana.
"Brick will meet you at the café at eight," Amara tells me. "You'll take first watch. Four hours on, four off. Keep your phone on and stay alert."
"Yes, ma'am," I say, climbing onto my bike.
"And Boulder?" she adds, her voice softening slightly. "Be careful. If Andrés is working for Sally, he's more dangerous than your average thug."
I nod, appreciating her concern. "I'll watch my back."
As I kick my bike to life, Axel calls out, "Try not to get distracted by your barista girlfriend!"
I flip him off good-naturedly, but his words stick with me as I pull away.
Kelsey isn't my girlfriend.
She's not even close.
She's a woman who lied to me, who's clearly hiding something, who I can't seem to get out of my head even though I know I should.
But as I ride through the streets of Chihuahua toward the club to grab some supplies before my surveillance shift, I know one thing for certain: whatever's going on with Kelsey, whatever danger is circling Astra's café, I'm going to protect them.
Not just because it's my job as a prospect, but because I don’t want her to get hurt.
And maybe, just maybe, in the process of keeping watch, I'll finally get some answers about Kelsey in the process.
Either way, I'm going to find out and I'm going to make damn sure nothing happens to her, even if she doesn't want my protection.