Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kelsey
I'm sketching in the book Oakleigh gave me when Boulder appears in the doorway, freshly showered, more serious than he usually is.
I look up, offering him a smile that fades when I notice the tension in his shoulders. "Hey, you."
"Hey." He crosses to sit beside me on the bed, glancing at my drawing. "What are you working on?"
I tilt the sketchbook to show him the café scene I've been working on, complete with Luna sunning herself in the window. "Just something to show Astra. She mentioned maybe using local art for new menus."
"It's good," he says, genuine appreciation in his eyes. "You've got a real talent."
His compliment makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, but his demeanor still feels off. "Everything okay? You look serious."
Boulder meets my eyes directly. "Razor got intel from a border contact. Someone matching Sam's description crossed over a few days ago, heading this way."
His words catch me off guard.. "Sam? Here? In Mexico?"
My heart pounds against my ribs as hope surges through me.
Sam—my baby brother, the only family I have left that matters—might be here.
"Seems that way," Boulder confirms, watching me carefully. "Used the name Samuel Warren. That mean anything to you?"
I can't help the small smile that forms. "Mom's maiden name. If he's using that name, he's trying to help me."
Boulder doesn’t seem like he believes that, though. "Or lead Benji to you."
My smile falters, but I shake my head firmly. "No. Sam wouldn't do that. If he's here, it's to help me, Barron." I use his real name, figuring it’ll be enough to show him how serious I am.
Boulder covers my hand with his, and I automatically turn my palm up to intertwine our fingers. "How can you be so sure? Family shit it runs deep, Montana. And Benji is still his brother. He’s still your brother."
I meet his gaze steadily. "Because I know Sam. He was there when I found those DVDs. He saw what it did to me. He helped me take them to the police even though he knew what it would mean for all of us."
Boulder squeezes my hand, his doubt softening. "Okay. So if he's here to help, what's his next move?"
I shift closer to him on the bed, "He'll be careful. Methodical. He knows Benji's resources, so he'll avoid obvious places. He'll try to find a way to contact me that Benji wouldn't think of."
"Like coming to the club?" Boulder suggests.
I shake my head, thinking like Sam would. "Too direct. He doesn't know you've claimed me, doesn't know I have protection. He'd be cautious about approaching any group that might have connections to Benji or Craig."
"So, how would he reach out?"
I think hard, my thumb absently stroking the back of Boulder's hand. "He might try the café. It's public, easy to watch from a distance. He could watch it for a bit before trying to contact me."
Boulder nods, his expression shifting. "We'll keep an eye out. I’ll tell Brick what to look for."
Relief washes over me, and I lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder. "Thank you."
His arm comes around me, drawing me closer into his warmth. "For what?"
"For believing me about Sam. For not dismissing what I know about my own brother."
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I close my eyes, breathing in his manly scent. "You're the expert on your family, Montana. If you say Sam's on our side, I believe you."
I pull back to look at him, searching his face. "And if he does make contact? What then?"
"Then we bring him in. Talk to him. Figure out what he knows about Benji's plans."
I nod, but worry gnaws at me. "Benji will kill him if he finds out Sam's helping me."
"That's why we need to find him first," Boulder says with determination. "Keep him safe, just like we're keeping you safe."
I take a shaky breath, "Safe. I'm still getting used to that concept."
Boulder cups my cheek, his thumb tracing my jawline in that way that always makes my pulse quicken. "Get used to it, Montana. As long as I'm breathing, you’d best remember nothing touches you. Or the people you care about."
Something shifts in my chest at his words, a deep ache that's both painful and sweet.
No one except Sam has ever been this fiercely protective of me, and it solidifies the fact I’m falling hard for Boulder.
I know I’m going to end up telling him soon, but I’m so afraid he doesn’t feel as strongly as I do.
***
Two days later, there's still no sign of Sam.
I've checked every face at the café, scanned the streets during my shifts, asked Astra to be on the lookout.
Nothing.
Boulder assures me the club has eyes everywhere, but as each hour passes without news, anxiety gnaws deeper in my gut.
I'm helping Astra close up the café when my phone buzzes.
Boulder's name flashes on the screen, and I answer immediately, heart in my throat.
"We found him," Boulder immediately says, not even saying a quick hello. "Brick spotted him at the bus station on Fifth. We're bringing him in now."
My legs nearly give out, and I grab the counter for support. "Is he okay? Is it really him?"
"It's him. He's...banged up. But alive. Meet me at the clubhouse. We'll be there in twenty."
The line goes dead before I can ask more questions.
I look up to find Astra watching me, obviously concerned.
"Sam?" she asks simply.
I nod, unable to find the words.
"Go," she says, already reaching for my apron. "Python's outside. He'll get you to the clubhouse."
I've never been more grateful for the club watching over us.
Within minutes, I'm on the back of Python's bike, racing toward the compound.
Sam's alive. He's here… but "banged up" could mean anything from a few bruises to critical injuries.
By the time we arrive, the clubhouse is in high alert mode.
Amara meets me at the door with a serious look on her face.
"Boulder's bringing your brother in," She studies my face carefully, almost like she’s looking for something. "Are you absolutely sure he's on our side?"
"Positive," I say without giving it a second thought. "Sam would never betray me."
She nods once, accepting my word. "Then he'll have our protection too."
I pace the main room, unable to sit, ignoring the concerned glances from the old ladies who've gathered.
Oakleigh tries to distract me with coffee, but I can't even consider drinking it, my nerves are too shot.
The tension in the clubhouse is insane as we wait. It feels like I’m waiting a century.
The rumble of motorcycles outside makes me freeze.
Several club members shift silently, hands drifting toward concealed weapons.
They don’t take any chances, and with Benji’s psychotic ass running around, that makes me feel so much better.
The door opens, and Brick enters first, scanning the room before stepping aside.
And then, there he is, alive and well.
My baby brother stands in the doorway, barely recognizable.
His face is sunken in, with dark circles under his eyes.
There's a fading bruise on his cheekbone, and he's lost so much weight that his clothes hang on his frame.
But it's his eyes that hurt me most—still the same warm brown as mine, but now haunted, aged beyond his twenty-four years.
For a moment, we just stare at each other across the room.
Then my paralysis breaks, and I'm running toward him.
"Cady," he breathes, using my birth name as he catches me in his arms.
The collision nearly knocks us both over, but Sam braces himself, holding me tight against him.
I cling to him, tears I didn't know I was holding back streaming down my face.
"You're here. You're really here," I sob into his shoulder. "I thought I'd never see you again."
Sam's arms tighten around me, and I feel his body shaking with his own silent tears. "I'm sorry it took so long. I had to be careful. Benji's been watching me."
I pull back just enough to look at his face, cupping his cheeks in my hands, looking at every change since I last saw him. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
Sam tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine, sis. Just tired."
He's lying.
I can see it in the way he holds himself, slightly hunched as if in pain.
But before I can ask him anything else, Amara clears her throat, reminding us we're not alone.
I turn, keeping one arm wrapped around Sam's waist, unwilling to let him go now that he's here.
The entire clubhouse is watching us with mixed expressions—caution, curiosity, and in Boulder's case, something I can’t read.
"Sam, this is..." I hesitate, not sure how to introduce these people who've become so important to me.
"The Reapers Rejects MC," Sam finishes for me. "Tara told me where she was sending you."
Amara steps forward, her posture relaxed, but her eyes focused on my little brother. "You're Kelsey's brother. The best one of all, from what we hear."
Sam nods, standing straighter even though he’s undoubtedly exhausted. "I am."
"And you came all this way because...?" she prompts.
"Because Benji's gone off the deep end," Sam says, his voice steady despite his condition. "He's not just looking for Cady—Kelsey—anymore. He's obsessed. Ever since Dad got diagnosed with cancer, it's like it fueled some sort of vengeance plot against her."
I feel Boulder move closer to me, his solid presence at my back. "What do you mean, 'off the deep end'?" he asks.
Sam's eyes shift to Boulder, narrowed slightly as he assesses the man standing so protectively near me. "He's been making deals with people he shouldn't. Promising things he can't deliver. All to find her."
"What kind of people?" Amara asks.
Sam hesitates, then sighs. "Everyone. Anyone. Local gangs. Smugglers. Even some woman named Sally who's apparently got a grudge against your club."
The room goes silent at the mention of Sally's name.
Boulder's hand finds the small of my back, his touch calming me down a notch.
"Sam needs to rest," I say, feeling how he's beginning to lean more heavily against me. "And medical attention. He's hurt."
Amara nods, making a quick decision. "Take him to one of the extra rooms upstairs. I'll send Brick to check him out in a little bit."
I guide Sam toward the stairs, but he stops, turning back to the club. "I know you have no reason to trust me. But I swear, I'm here to help my sister. Nothing else."
Amara studies him for a long moment, then gives a slight nod. "We'll talk more when you've rested."
As we climb the stairs, I feel eyes on our backs.
Sam is silent until we reach the room closest to the stairwell, collapsing onto the edge of the bed with a groan.
"Let me see," I demand, already reaching for the hem of his shirt.
He tries to wave me off, but I fix him with the same stubborn glare I used when we were kids.
With a sigh, he lifts his shirt, revealing a patchwork of bruises across his ribs.
"Jesus, Sam," I whisper, my hand hovering over the discoloration. "Who did this to you?"
"Benji," he admits quietly. "He figured out I was still in contact with you. Wanted to know where you were."
Rage burns through me. "Why can’t he let things go? Jesus! I swear to God, I'll?—"
"Cady, don't." Sam catches my wrist. "That's not why I'm here. I didn't come to drag you back into a fight with our family."
"Then why are you here?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
His eyes find mine, filled with the same protective love I remember from when I was a child. "To warn you. And to see you. I had to know you were okay."
The door opens, and Boulder enters with a first aid kit, followed by Brick. I step back to let Brick doctor him up and examine Sam, moving to stand beside Boulder.
"What do you think?" I ask him quietly.
"I think he's telling the truth," Boulder says after a moment. "But Amara will want to verify everything he's said. She’s been fucked over too many times."
I nod, understanding why everyone is being so cautious. "He's my brother, Boulder. He's the only one who ever stood up for me."
Boulder's arm slides around my waist, drawing me against his side. "I know. And I'm not going to get between you two. But the club needs to be careful."
I lean into him. "I understand."
Brick finishes his examination, confirming what I already knew—Sam's ribs are badly bruised, possibly cracked, but not broken.
He gives Sam some pain meds out of the first aid kit and apologizes for not having anything better.
Sam's eyes track Boulder's arm around my waist, a small smile playing at his lips. "So, you're the one who's been protecting my sister."
Boulder nods, his stance shifting. "I am."
"He claimed me," I explain, watching Sam's reaction carefully. "For protection."
Sam's eyebrow raises slightly. "Just protection?"
I feel heat creep into my cheeks. "It's complicated."
Sam laughs, then winces, holding his ribs. "It always is with you, sis."
"I'll give you two some time," Boulder says, pressing a kiss to my temple before moving toward the door. "I'll be right outside if you need me."
Once he's gone, Sam fixes me with a knowing look. "He's more than just protection, isn't he?"
I sit beside him on the bed, suddenly feeling shy. "Like I said, it's complicated."
"Does he make you happy?" Sam asks, cutting right to the chase like he always does.
I think about the past few weeks with Boulder—the way he looks at me when he thinks I don't notice, the protectiveness, the moments of surprising tenderness.
"Yes," I admit. "He does."
"Then it's not complicated at all," Sam says simply.
Tears prick at my eyes again. "God, I've missed you."
"I've missed you too." He takes my hand, squeezing it weakly. "When I heard what Benji was planning, I knew I had to find you. I couldn't let him hurt you again."
Dread pools in my stomach, but I have to know. "What is he planning, Sam?"
Sam's expression darkens. "He wants to bring you back. Make an example of you before Dad dies. Show what happens to family who betray us."
I shudder, remembering Benji's idea of examples. "And he's working with this Sally woman?"
"I don't know the details. Just that he found someone who hates your club as much as he hates you. I don’t think he had that plan when he came here, but something changed, and he’s unhinged." Sam's eyes drift closed for a moment, the medication starting to take effect. "Be careful, Cady. He's not the brother we grew up with anymore."
He means the redeemable brother, the one who still had some good left in him.
I stay with Sam until he falls asleep, then slip out of the room to find Boulder leaning against the wall, just as he promised.
"He's resting," I tell him, emotionally drained but relieved to have Sam here.
Boulder nods, his eyes searching my face. "You okay?"
"Better than I've been in a long time," I say honestly. "Having Sam here... it's like having a piece of myself back that I didn't know was missing."
"I'm glad," Boulder says, and I can tell he means it. "He seems to care about you a lot."
"He's the only family I have left," I say softly. "The only one worth keeping, anyway."
Boulder's hand comes up to cup my cheek. "He like me?"
I can't help but smile. "He does. He basically gave us his blessing."
"Good." Boulder leans in, his lips brushing mine in a gentle kiss. "Because I wasn't planning on letting you go anyway."
The kiss deepens, and I lose myself in it, the stress of the day melting away under Boulder's touch.
When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his chest, grateful for the break.
"Amara wants to talk to your brother when he wakes up," Boulder tells me. "Get the full story about Benji and Sally."
I nod against his chest. "I figured. Whatever he knows, he'll tell us."
Boulder's fingers tilt my chin up, making me meet his eyes. "You trust him that much?"
"With my life," I say without hesitation. "Sam's never lied to me. Not once."
Something flashes across Boulder's face—so quick I almost miss it—before his expression softens. "Then I trust him too."
The night flies by, and then so does the day.
I guess Sam really needed the sleep, to allow his body to heal.
It’s a little past four and Sam is meeting with Amara and the officers while I wait in the main room.
Boulder insisted on being present for his talk, and luckily they agreed to let him be in there.
Oakleigh plops down beside me on the couch, handing me a beer. "So, that's baby brother, huh?"
I accept the beer gratefully. "That's Sam."
"You two are close," she observes. "It's obvious."
"He was the only good thing in that house," I say, the memories causing an old ache. "After our mom died, he was the only one who saw what our father really was. The only one who cared about me more than the family business."
Oakleigh squeezes my knee sympathetically. "Family's complicated. The blood kind and the chosen kind."
I look around the clubhouse, at the people who've accepted me even with all of my baggage. "I'm starting to see that."
The door to church opens, and Boulder emerges first, his expression grim.
He makes his way directly to me, taking the seat on my other side.
"How'd it go?" I ask anxiously.
"Your brother's clean," he says. "Amara believes his story, and so do I. He's confirmed what we suspected—Benji's been in contact with Sally, though it seems like a marriage of convenience sorta thing rather than a real alliance."
"So he can stay?"
Boulder's hand finds mine, squeezing gently. "As long as he needs to. Under protection, just like you."
The gratitude I feel is overwhelming. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Boulder says with a small smile. "Thank Amara. She's the one who made the call."
Sam emerges next, looking slightly shell-shocked but otherwise all good.
Amara follows, her face impossible to read, but when she nods at me, I know everything is okay.
Sam makes his way to us, still moving gingerly. "Your president is...intense."
"You have no idea," Boulder says, standing to offer Sam his seat. "Welcome to the clubhouse, officially."
Sam looks between us, a small smile playing at his lips. "Thanks. I appreciate you looking out for my sister."
Boulder's hand comes to rest on my shoulder, "She's my ol’ lady. It's my job."
It's the first time he's introduced me that way to anyone, and it’s crazy how a few simple words can make my heart skip.
I don't correct him, even though we've never formally discussed changing our "temporary" arrangement into something permanent.
Sam notices, his smile widening,"Good. She deserves someone who sees her worth."
That night, after Sam has already gone back into his bedroom, Boulder and I finally have a moment alone.
The day's events have left me emotionally drained but strangely peaceful.
Having Sam here, knowing he's safe, has lifted a weight I didn't realize I was carrying.
Boulder sits on the edge of our mattress, watching me as I get ready for bed. "You look happier," he observes.
I glance at him in the mirror as I brush my hair. "I am. Having Sam here... it means more than I can say."
"He's a good kid," Boulder admits. "Smart, too. Amara's impressed with how much intel he gathered on Benji's operation."
I set down my brush and turn to face him. "Thank you for giving him a chance. I know it's a risk for the club."
Boulder shrugs. "He's your brother. Your family. Didn’t seem like much of a risk if you ask me."
I cross the room to stand between his legs, my hands coming to rest on his shoulders. "And what are you?" I ask softly.
His hands settle on my hips, warm and possessive. "What do you want me to be?"
The question hangs between us.
We've been dancing around definitions since the night he claimed me in front of the club, both of us hesitant to put labels on whatever's growing between us.
It was supposed to be for protection, so when did it shift into… whatever this is.
"Mine," I whisper, surprising myself with the boldness of it. "Just mine."
Something flares in Boulder's eyes—heat, possessiveness, and something deeper that makes my breath catch. "I've been yours since that first night in Montana," he admits, his voice rough. "Just took me a while to figure it out."
His hands tighten on my hips, drawing me closer until I'm straddling his lap.
The kiss that follows is different from our usual hungry, desperate ones—slower, deeper, filled with an emotion neither of us has been brave enough to name.
I tug at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine.
He helps me, breaking our kiss only long enough to pull the fabric over his head.
My hands explore the familiar planes of his chest, tracing the tattoos that mark his skin, memorizing him with my fingertips.
"I want to take care of you tonight," I murmur against his lips, pushing him gently back onto the bed.
Boulder's eyes darken as he watches me slide down his body, my lips trailing a path from his neck to his chest, lingering over the places I know make him groan.
His hands tangle in my hair, not pushing or guiding, just connecting.
I take my time, savoring the taste of his skin, the way his muscles jump under my touch.
When I reach the waistband of his jeans, I glance up, meeting his gaze as I slowly unbutton them.
His breathing is already ragged, his eyes never leaving mine as I drag the zipper down.
"Fuck, Kelsey," he breathes as I press my palm against his hardness through his boxers.
"That's the idea," I tease, tugging his jeans and boxers down his legs in one smooth motion.
As I take him in my mouth, his hands tighten in my hair, his hips lifting slightly to meet me.
I lose myself in the taste of him, in the sounds he makes as I bring him closer to the edge.
When I feel him tense, his thighs trembling under my free hand, I increase my pace, taking him as deep as I can.
Boulder's control finally breaks, his hips thrusting up to meet me, his grip in my hair tightening to the edge of pain.
"Kelsey," he warns, his voice strained. "I'm going to?—"
I don't back away, instead taking him deeper, swallowing around him as he comes with a hoarse shout of my name.
Before I can move, Boulder's hands are on me, pulling me up his body until I'm straddling him again.
His kiss is fierce, possessive.
"My turn," he growls, flipping us with ease so I'm pinned beneath him.
His hands make quick work of my clothing, stripping me bare.
There's a hunger in his eyes that ignites my own need, but also something deeper, something that makes my heart race for reasons that have nothing to do with physical desire.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over my naked body. "So fucking perfect. And all mine."
"All yours," I confirm, the words feeling like a vow.
He takes his time with me, his mouth and hands exploring every inch of my skin, learning me as if we have all the time in the world.
By the time his fingers find their way between my thighs, I'm trembling with need, my hips lifting to meet his touch.
"So wet for me," he groans, sliding two fingers inside me easily. "Always so ready."
I cling to his shoulders as he works me toward release, my nails digging into his skin as the pleasure builds.
When I come, it's with his name on my lips, my body arching off the bed as waves of sensation wash over me.
Before I can recover, he's positioning himself between my thighs, his eyes locked with mine as he pushes inside, filling me in one slow, perfect stroke.
"Mine," he groans, starting to move with deliberate, measured thrusts. "Say it again."
"Yours," I gasp, my legs wrapping around his waist to take him deeper. "Only yours, Boulder."
He buries his face in my neck, his rhythm increasing as our bodies move together in perfect sync.
It's different from every other time we have sex—there’s more intent, more focus, as if we're both trying to prove something with our bodies that we're not ready to say with words.
My second orgasm builds slowly, tension coiling tighter with each thrust.
Boulder seems to sense it, shifting his angle to hit that spot inside me that makes me see stars.
His hand slips between us, finding my clit again, and that's all it takes to send me over the edge, my whole body clenching around him as pleasure crashes through me.
He follows a moment later, his release hitting him with an intensity that has him cursing against my skin, his body shuddering above mine.
For several long moments, we stay joined, our hearts racing in tandem, our breathing gradually slowing.
When Boulder finally rolls to the side, he takes me with him, keeping me close against his chest.
His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, and I find myself drifting, content in a way I never thought possible.
"Stay with me," he murmurs against my hair, his voice heavy with approaching sleep. "Not just until Benji's gone. After. Stay here."
The request is so unexpected, so vulnerable, that tears prick at my eyes.
I press a kiss over his heart, feeling it beat steady and strong beneath my lips.
"I think we both know I’m not going anywhere," I promise, and I mean it with every fiber of my being.
As sleep claims us both, I realize something has shifted between us tonight.
The claiming that started as protection, as a temporary solution to keep me safe, has become something else entirely.
It’s something real—he’s turned into a man I’ve fallen head over heels for, but I’m not ready to tell him that. At least, not yet.
And for the first time in my life, that thought doesn't make me want to run.