Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Boulder
"We'll move against the café first," Andrés says, his voice distorted but clear enough on the playback. "The enforcer's woman is the owner, there every day. Take him, we’ll get her to comply with whatever we want."
"And the girl?" Sally asks. "The one Boulder claimed?"
"According to our source, she'll be vulnerable at specific times. We've been watching the rotation schedule."
I feel ice spreading through my veins hearing those words.
They've been studying our protection details, looking for gaps.
At some point, they've learned Kelsey is at the café with only minimal protection during certain hours.
I'm reviewing the intel with Razor in the warehouse when my phone rings, Zorro's name lighting up the screen.
"Yeah?" I answer, still focused on the maps in front of me.
"Café's been hit," Zorro's voice is tight, so tight I can tell he’s barely holding himself back. "Multiple casualties. You need to get back here now."
Blood turns to ice in my veins. "Kelsey?—"
"Unknown. Get back to the club. Now."
The ride back to the clubhouse feels like moving through water—everything in slow motion and blindingly fast.
Razor keeps pace beside me, his face grim behind his helmet visor.
Neither of us speak. Both of us know words won't help what we might find.
The clubhouse is in chaos when we arrive—brothers moving around like bees collecting honey for the queen.
I push through them, searching for Amara, for any sign of Kelsey.
I find Amara in church, standing over a map of Chihuahua laid out across the table.
Python's usual seat is oddly empty.
I’m trying to keep calm, but my voice is coming out harsh. "What happened?"
Amara looks up, her face carved from stone. "Ambush at the café. They hit when Kelsey was there with Sam. Rooster and Lashes were on protection detail."
"And?" I demand, my hands clenching into fists, nails digging into my palms so hard I might draw blood.
"Rooster's in surgery at my uncle Alejandro's clinic—took a round to the chest. Touch and go." She pauses, and I know worse news is coming. "Lashes is missing—presumably taken. Sam's in the back room—concussion, lost blood, but the locals stopped the bleeding."
I try to process this information, my brain refusing to ask the question with the answer I dread most. "Kelsey?"
"Taken."
One word. Just one fucking word, and my entire world collapses around me.
A roaring fills my ears, and for a moment, I can't see straight. The rage rises so fast it almost chokes me.
"By who?" I manage to ask.
"Based on Sam's account, Andrés' men. But they were working with someone else." Amara's eyes meet mine. "Someone who knew exactly who they were looking for and how to draw her out."
"Benji," I snarl. "Her fucking brother."
She nods. "They used Astra as bait. Called Kelsey claiming an emergency at the café. Sally, Benji, Andrés all fucking working together. The joke’s on them. When we get our people back, we will, the wrath of the club and the entire cartel will be on them."
"And Astra?" I ask, dreading the answer.
Python would be a wreck if something happened to their old lady.
"Alive. They let her go once they had Kelsey and Lashes. She's with Ruby and Rosa, going through security footage."
I scan the room, noticing Python's absence again. "Where's Python?"
Amara's face darkens further. "They've got him too. Grabbed him this morning, according to Astra. Used him as leverage to make her cooperate."
Jesus fucking Christ.
This is worse than I'd imagined.
They didn’t just take Kelsey—they took Python, our Enforcer, and Lashes. They're trying to fuck with the club in whatever way they can.
"I need to see Sam," I say, already moving toward the door.
"Boulder," Amara calls after me. "We'll find them. All of them."
I don't respond. Words are meaningless now. Only action matters.
I find Sam in the back room that usually serves as the club's makeshift infirmary.
His head is bandaged, blood seeping through the white gauze.
His face is pale, eyes unfocused, but they sharpen when I enter.
"Boulder," he croaks, attempting to sit up. "They took her. I tried to stop them?—"
"Easy," I say, gently pushing him back onto the cot. "Save your strength. Tell me what happened. Everything you remember."
Sam swallows, his hand shaking as he reaches for the water glass beside him. "It was a set-up from the start. Astra called Kelsey, said there was an emergency at the café. She sounded terrified."
"So you went with her?"
He nods, wincing at the movement. "I couldn't let her go alone, even with Rooster and Lashes. Something felt off." His eyes find mine, filled with guilt. "I should have stopped her. Should have made her wait for you, or Amara, or someone."
"You couldn't have known," I say, though part of me wants to scream at him for letting her walk into danger.
But that isn't fair—Sam loves his sister. He'd already taken a beating for her from Benji.
"When we got there, everything seemed normal at first. But it was too quiet." Sam's voice falters. "Then Astra appeared, a man with a gun to her back. She said they had Python."
I can imagine the scene—Kelsey facing her friend in danger, the confusion, the fear.
My stomach knots painfully at the thought of her frightened, facing down men with guns, knowing what was coming.
"How many men?"
"Five that I saw. Maybe more out of sight." Sam's hands clench into fists on the thin blanket. "I tried to fight, to give her a chance to run, but one of them blindsided me. I saw Rooster go down, blood everywhere. Lashes took a hit to the shoulder."
He's quiet for a moment, reliving it.
"Last thing I remember is Kelsey screaming my name, then something hit me. When I came to, locals were trying to help. Astra was there, crying, saying they'd let her go after... after they took Kelsey and Lashes."
"Did you recognize any of them?" I ask, fighting to keep my voice level.
Sam shakes his head. "They weren't Benji's usual guys. More professional. Military-type movements." He hesitates. "But they knew who Kelsey was. Called her by her birth name—Cady. I think the other guy you said something about has something to do with it."
Benji is working with Andrés's men, we already know that… but Sally is the one with the big bucks.
She’s the one who could pay for hired help of that level.
The next thing I know, Amara and Razor are standing in the doorway. "Jesus Christ," Razor grumbles. "They fuckers are splitting our focus, trying to get us to pick and choose who we save."
I meet Amara's eyes across the room, seeing the same cold fury I feel.
This isn't just about Kelsey anymore—this is an attack on the club as a whole.
"We need to prioritize," Amara says, her voice steadier than mine would be if I were in her position. "We’ll get Zorro to take a team to the warehouse where we think Python is being held. Boulder, you focus on finding Kelsey. I’ll get Axel to coordinate with Brick to try and locate Lashes."
I nod, grateful she understands without me having to say it—I can't focus on saving the club if Kelsey’s in danger.
"Python's tough," Razor says, clapping me on the shoulder. "He can hold out longer than most."
Python will be able to handle himself longer than Kelsey might at Benji's hands.
I can't bear to think about what that sadistic fuck might be doing to her.
The image of her tied up, scared, being hurt—it makes me want to tear through walls with my bare hands.
Before I can respond, my phone rings.
Unknown number.
Every muscle in my body tenses as I answer. "Yeah?"
"Boulder."
Kelsey's voice, strained but alive.
Relief crashes through me so intensely I have to grip the table to stay upright.
She's alive. She's fucking alive.
"Don't—" she begins, but her voice cuts off abruptly.
"Hello, prospect." A male voice replaces hers, smooth and controlled. "I believe I have something of yours."
My hand clenches around the phone so hard I'm surprised the screen doesn't crack. "If you've hurt her?—"
"She's alive. For now." The voice—Benji, it has to be—sounds almost bored. "Whether she stays that way is entirely up to you."
I force my breathing to remain steady, my mind racing.
Axel comes into the room, almost like he has some weird ass spidey senses.
Amara’s moved closer, clearly reading the situation on my face.
She mouths "speaker" and I comply, placing the phone on the table.
"What do you want?" I ask, buying time.
Axel is already on another phone, likely trying to trace the call.
"Simple. You, alone, at coordinates I'll text you after this call. No club, no backup." His voice hardens. "You've claimed my sister. Time to prove how much she's worth to you."
"And why would I trust you'll let her go if I show up?"
Benji laughs, the sound chilling in its emptiness. "You wouldn't. But you'll come anyway, because if you don't, I'll send her back to you piece by piece. Starting with her fingers."
Red blurs my vision, rage threatening to overtake any logic I have.
My entire body shakes with the need to reach through the phone and rip his throat out.
I've never wanted to kill someone so badly in my life.
"Let me speak to her," I demand, struggling to keep my voice even.
A pause, then rustling sounds.
"Boulder." Kelsey's voice again, stronger now, determined. "Don't come. It's a trap. They have?—"
Her words cut off in what sounds like a slap.
I growl, low and dangerous.
The thought of him hitting her makes me nearly crush the phone in my hand.
"She's spirited, I'll give her that," Benji says, back on the line. "But spirited women break just like any other."
"I'll kill you," I promise, my voice deadly calm. "Slowly. For every mark you put on her."
"Big words from a prospect who's outmatched and outgunned." Another laugh. "I'll text you the coordinates. One hour. Come alone. Any sign of your club brothers, and she dies slowly."
"Wait," I say quickly. "I want proof she'll still be alive when I get there."
There's a moment of silence, then: "Fine. I'll send a live video link with the coordinates. But the clock starts ticking when you receive it. One hour, prospect. Don't be late."
The call ends. The room remains silent for a moment, everyone processing what we've just heard.
Amara turns to Axel, eyes focused. "Did you get it?"
Axel shakes his head. "Bounced all over the place. Best we got was a general area—an industrial district on the east side of the city."
"It's a trap," Razor says, stating the obvious. "He wants you isolated from the club."
"Of course it's a fuckin’ trap," I reply, already moving toward the doorway. "But he has Kelsey. And he's working with Andrés and Sally, who have Python and Lashes. I'm going."
Amara steps in front of me, her eyes hard. "Not alone you're not. We do this smart or we don't do it at all."
"You heard him. He sees anyone but me, Kelsey dies." The thought of Benji hurting her makes my blood boil, my hands itch for violence.
"And if you show up alone, you both die," Amara counters. "Think, Boulder. This is a coordinated attack against the club. Against all of us. We respond as a club, and we use the resources my blood gives us. The cartel backs us. The Ramirez blood flowing through my veins gives us an advantage—we need to fucking use it!"
She's right, and I know it, though every instinct screams at me to ride out immediately, to find Kelsey and tear apart anyone who stands in my way.
"What's the plan then?" I ask, forcing myself to focus.
Amara turns to the map on the table. "We assume the locations are connected. Python and Lashes are likely being held where Andrés' operations are regularly based. Kelsey's with Benji, possibly at a separate location."
She circles several areas on the map. "Based on our intel and what Axel traced from the call, we're looking at three potential areas, but maybe in the general vicinity of one another. We split into teams, coordinate by radio. Boulder, you make the meet with Benji, but you'll have backup close by—undetectable but ready to move. I’m using my uncle’s men for this. It’ll look like regular cartel activity and hopefully Benji is too stupid to realize it."
"And if he checks?" I ask.
"Then you better be damn convincing when you tell him you came alone," she replies sharply. "This isn't a debate, prospect. We move as a club or not at all."
For a moment, I consider defying her, taking my bike and heading out on my own.
"Fine," I give in. "But I lead the team going after Kelsey."
"Naturally even though I wouldn’t give any other prospect this much leeway," Amara agrees. "Ramiro, Ismael, Marco and César will be with you, they are trained very well."
I turn to Sam, who has pushed himself up from the cot, clutching his bandaged head. "You're in no condition?—"
"She's my sister," Sam interrupts, his voice stronger than it's been. "If you're going after her, so am I." His eyes meet mine, filled with the same determination we all feel. We all want our people back, safe and sound. "I know Benji better than anyone else here. You need me."
I can't argue with that logic, but he’s hurt, bad. "Can you shoot?"
Sam nods grimly. "Just point me at the right target."
My phone buzzes with an incoming text. Everyone in the room tenses as I check it.
Coordinates, as promised, along with a video link. I tap it, and the screen fills with Kelsey's face.
She's bound to a chair, a cut on her cheek showing where Benji has likely struck her during our call.
But her eyes are alert, defiant.
The sight of her hurt makes my chest feel like it's being crushed in a vise.
Behind her stands a man I recognize from the photos Sam has shared—Benji.
He looks at the camera, smiling coldly. "Clock's ticking, prospect," he says, then the feed cuts off.
I slide the phone to Axel, who immediately starts working to pinpoint the location more precisely. "East warehouse district, building seven," he confirms after a moment. "Match for one of our suspected locations. Fucker’s getting sloppy now that we’re in the thick of it. Stupid for him, great for us."
"Let's go," I say, already moving toward the door.
"Armor up first," Amara orders. "I want bulletproof vests on under your cut, that goes for everyone. I will not have more injured club members today."
I don't argue.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m geared up with the cartel boys—ballistic vests under our cuts, extra magazines, radios with earpieces, and enough firepower to start a small war.
Sam looks pale but determined. Brick came in and gave him a shot for the pain and fresh bandages for his head.
Alejandro must have given us a shipment of medications, pain killers, and whatever else we need.
The man has connections everywhere.
"You sure you're up for this?" I ask as we head for the vehicles.
"I've been waiting for this chance since Benji first put hands on her," Sam replies, checking the pistol Razor gave him. "Nothing's keeping me away."
As we mount up—bikes for me, SUV for Sam and the cartel guys—Amara approaches me one last time.
"We have three targets to extract—Python, Lashes, and Kelsey," she says, her voice low enough that only I can hear. "But if it comes down to priorities..."
"I know who my priority is," I say, not letting her finish. "I claimed her. She's mine to protect."
Amara nods, understanding in her eyes. "Benji Warlow has declared war on this club by taking our people. When this is over, there's no mercy. You understand?"
"Perfectly," I reply, a coldness settling over me. "He's already dead. He just doesn't know it yet."
I waste no time heading over to the industrial district.
It’s a maze of warehouses and storage facilities, most abandoned or operating on the fringes of legality.
Perfect territory for men like Benji and Andrés to set up operations away from prying eyes.
We split up a mile from the target, the others taking positions that will allow them to move in quietly when needed.
I continue alone, following the coordinates to warehouse seven—a large, boxy structure with faded numbering on its corrugated metal walls.
I park my bike in plain sight, wanting Benji to see I've come as instructed, but the rest of the men park somewhere else, away from prying eyes.
The weight of my gun presses against my back, concealed but accessible.
I have two knives on me as well, plus the radio earpiece hidden by my hair.
"I'm at the entrance," I murmur, knowing the team can hear me. "Moving in now."
"We've got eyes on the building," Razor's voice comes through the earpiece. "Three men on the roof, two at the rear exit. Main floor windows are blacked out."
"Got it," I reply softly.
I approach the large sliding door at the front of the warehouse, every sense on high alert.
Before I can decide whether to knock or enter, the door slides open a few feet—an invitation I can't refuse.
Inside, the space is dimly lit, most illumination coming from a single hanging light in the center of the concrete floor.
Beneath it sits Kelsey, bound to a metal chair, her face bruised but her eyes fierce when they find mine.
My heart hammers against my ribs at the sight of her—hurt but alive, so beautifully alive.
Four men with guns form a perimeter around her.
And standing beside her, one hand resting on her shoulder in a mockery of affection, is Benji. This dumb fucker.
He looks remarkably ordinary at first glance—average height, well-dressed in dark jeans and a button-down shirt, his hair neatly combed.
But his eyes are empty, flat like a shark's, assessing me.
"Right on time," he says, his voice the same controlled tone from the phone. "And surprisingly alone. I'm impressed by your obedience, prospect."
"Let her go," I say, stepping further into the warehouse, counting guards, noting positions, identifying cover. "You've got me. That's what you wanted."
Benji smiles, the expression never reaching his eyes. "So eager. But I think we have some things to discuss first." His hand tightens on Kelsey's shoulder, making her wince. "Family matters."
I can see bruising forming on Kelsey's cheek, dried blood at the corner of her mouth, and something in me shifts—a primal rage I've always kept carefully controlled.
In that moment, I don't care about club protocol or what I should be doing.
All I want to do is tear this man apart with my bare hands.
"Touch her again and I'll kill you where you stand," I say, my voice deadly calm.
Benji laughs, genuinely amused. "Bold words from a man surrounded by guns." He gestures around the warehouse. "Do you think you're the first to threaten me?"
"Boulder, don't listen to him," Kelsey speaks up, "He's working with Andrés and Sally Bernard. They're planning something bigger than just me."
Benji's hand lashes out, striking her across the face. "I didn't give you permission to speak."
I lunge forward instinctively, only stopping when four guns train on me simultaneously.
My vision turns crimson with rage, every muscle in my body ready to attack.
"Careful now," Benji warns. "This doesn't have to end with both of you dead. In fact, I have a proposition."
"Not interested," I growl.
"You should be," he replies smoothly. "Because right now, your club is scattered across Chihuahua, desperately searching for their missing enforcer and prospect. But only I know where they are."
This catches my attention, though I keep my expression neutral.
If Benji knows where Python and Lashes are being held, extracting that information could save them.
"What's the proposition?" I ask, playing along.
Benji smiles, pleased to have my attention. "Simple. You walk away. Leave my sister to me. In exchange, I tell you where to find your club members."
"And I'm supposed to trust you'd honor that deal?"
"Honor among thieves," Benji says with a shrug. "Or in this case, criminals. Your club, my family business—we're not so different."
"We're nothing alike," I spit. "The club has lines it doesn't cross."
"Everyone has lines until they're desperate enough," Benji counters. "Did Cady tell you what our father's business really involved? What made her betray her own blood?"
I keep my expression neutral, though internally I'm seething. "She told me enough to know you belong in the ground next to him."
Something dark flashes across Benji's face—the first real emotion I've seen from him. "Our father is still very much alive, though your precious Cady did her best to destroy him. And when I bring her home, his last wish before cancer takes him will be fulfilled."
"She's not going anywhere with you," I say, taking another step forward even with the guns trained on me. "She's claimed. She's under club protection now."
Benji laughs again, but this time there's an edge to it. "Claimed? You think some biker tradition means anything against blood? Against family loyalty?" He shakes his head. "You're more naive than I thought."
"Says the man who had to kidnap his sister because she'd rather die than go with him willingly," I counter.
While this exchange continues, I'm tallying our odds.
Four armed men are visible, plus Benji.
Potentially more I can't see.
Kelsey bound but conscious and alert.
My team in position outside.
As subtly as I can, I touch my ear, signaling through the hidden mic that I'm ready for my team.
"Last chance, prospect," Benji says, his voice hardening. "Walk away. Save your club brothers. Or die here with her."
I let a cold smile spread across my face. "You've made one critical mistake, Warlow."
"And what's that?" he asks, arrogant confidence radiating from him.
"You think I came here to negotiate." I lock eyes with Kelsey, hoping she'll read my intent. "I came here to end you."
What happens next is a blur.
I drop to one knee as the windows high above shatter, some of the cartel men rappelling in with weapons already firing.
The leftover men come in through a door, rushing to be part of the action.
I draw my gun, putting two rounds into the nearest guard before rolling behind a stack of crates.
Gunfire erupts throughout the warehouse, the sound deafening in the enclosed space.
Through the chaos, I keep my focus on one goal—reaching Kelsey.
I catch glimpses of the fight unfolding—Sam entering through a side door, taking down a guard, the cartel boys doing what they do best.
Benji has disappeared in the first moments of the assault, dragging Kelsey with him toward the back of the warehouse.
I pursue, ducking gunfire, returning shots when necessary, but always moving forward.
I catch up to them near a rear office, where Benji has backed himself against a wall, using Kelsey as a shield, a knife pressed to her throat.
"Stop right there," he commands, eyes wild now, control slipping. "One more step and she bleeds out."
I halt, my gun trained on him, looking for any opening, any chance to take the shot without risking Kelsey’s life.
"It's over, Benji," I say calmly. "Your men are down. The club has the warehouse surrounded. There's no way out."
"There's always a way out," he hisses. "And she's coming with me."
Kelsey's eyes find mine, fear evident but something else too—vengeance.
As our gazes lock, I see her tense slightly, preparing for something.
"Tell me something, Benji," I say, keeping his focus on me. "What happened to Craig? He didn't show up for our meeting."
In that split second of distraction, Kelsey drives her elbow back into his ribs with surprising force, then ducks her head forward, pulling away from the knife.
The opening is all I need.
My shot takes Benji in the shoulder—not fatal, but enough to make him drop the knife and stagger backward.
Kelsey twists free of his grasp, dropping to the floor as I advance.
Before Benji can recover, I'm on him, driving him against the wall, my gun pressed under his chin.
"Where's Python?" I demand, digging the barrel into his flesh. "Where are they keeping him and Lashes?"
Blood soaks through Benji's shirt from the shoulder wound, but his eyes remain defiant. "You're dead. All of you. Sally's been planning this for years. Andrés has half the city in his pocket."
I press harder. "Andrés is a cockroach who's been alive too long, and Sally will be in the ground soon enough. Now, give me my fucking answer!"
Sam appears beside me, his face grim as he looks at his older brother. "The northern warehouse complex," he says. "That's where they'd take them. Andrés uses it for distribution."
Benji's eyes widen in shock. "Sam? You fucking traitor?—"
"Shut up," Sam says coldly. "You stopped being my brother the moment you chose Dad's path. The moment you hurt Cady."
I keep my gun on Benji while Sam cuts Kelsey free from her restraints.
She stumbles to her feet, running to me, and I wrap one arm around her while keeping my gun on Benji.
"Are you okay?" I ask urgently, scanning her body for injuries beyond the visible bruises.
She nods, burying her face against my chest for a brief moment. "I knew you'd come," she whispers.
"Always," I promise, tightening my arm around her.
"Amara," I say into my concealed mic. "We've got Kelsey. Sam says Python and Lashes could be at the northern warehouse complex."
"I’ll check," Amara's voice comes through, calm and collected. "Zorro's team is already en route."
I look at Benji, this man who has caused so much pain, who has hunted Kelsey across borders, who has allied with our enemies to destroy everything we care about.
Sam’s voice is hollow. "What do we do with him?"
I glance at Kelsey, silently asking the question.
It's her brother, her tormentor.
She deserves a say in his fate.
"Bring him," she says, "The club needs to know everything he does about Sally and Andrés."
I nod, hauling Benji to his feet and securing his hands with zip ties.
"You'll regret this," he spits, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "All of you. The club. My traitor brother. And you, Cady. You most of all."
Kelsey stares at him, finally face to face with the nightmare that has chased her for years. "My name is Kelsey," she says quietly. "And you have no power over me anymore."
The words seem to hit Benji hard.
For a moment, the mask slips, revealing the rage and hatred beneath his controlled exterior.
As we lead him out, securing the warehouse and accounting for the men we've taken down, my radio crackles with an incoming message from Zorro.
"Got him," his voice comes through, tight with emotion. "Python's alive. Beaten but stable. Still searching for Lashes."
Relief floods through me at the news about Python.
But, where the fuck did they take Lashes?
But that relief is short-lived when my phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number.
I check it, dread pooling in my stomach as I open an image.
It's Craig, or what's left of him.
His body lies crumpled in what looks like a basement, his face beaten beyond recognition, fingers missing.
The accompanying message is brief:
I guess this is what they do to traitors.
I quickly pocket the phone before Kelsey can see it, but Sam catches my expression.
"What is it?" he asks, moving closer.
I hesitate, then meet his eyes. "They found Craig's body," I say quietly, watching his face crumple with grief. "And Benji's got some explaining to do."
Sam's expression hardens as he turns to look at his older brother. "He was trying to help us, wasn't he?" he asks, voice trembling with rage. "Craig was working against you."
Benji's smile is cold and empty. "Working against family is a death sentence. He knew that when he made his choice."
In that moment, looking at Benji's empty eyes and smug expression, I know what I'll do to him when we're alone.
This isn't over. Not by a long shot.
I pull Kelsey closer against my side, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Let's get you home," I murmur against her hair. "The rest can wait."