Page 2 of Boulder's Weight

She's done her best to cover it with makeup, but whoever gave it to her put some force behind it.

Something in my chest tightens.

It’s not like she’s someone of importance to me, but seeing that bruise makes my hands clench into fists under the table.

"Kelsey’s still here?" I ask, keeping my tone casual.

Ripper glances over. "I think the woman’s gonna end up dying working here, man. Been around forever."

"Yeah, her and Tara will be here for the rest of their lives I’m sure, " Bama adds. "I’ve been kinda curious about her, though. I heard she doesn’t date anyone or nothin’ like that, keeps to herself. Only person she really talks to is Tara, right, Rip?"

Ripper shrugs. "Yeah, they work together, so obviously."

The fact she keeps to herself only piques my interest more. I'm the kind of man who’s always liked a challenge.

She comes to our table to refill coffees, and I notice how she keeps her head slightly turned, trying to hide the bruised side of her face.

Up close, I can see her eyes are a deep brown, almost like whiskey when the light hits them right.

"Need anything else?" she asks, voice soft but not timid.

There's a strength there, hidden beneath her quiet tone.

"We're good, Kelsey, but thanks," Bama says.

She gives a tight smile and turns away, but not before her eyes meet mine for a split second.

They’re the kind that can completely captivate you.

Just as she walks away, Ripper's phone rings.

He checks it, then looks at us with a sudden seriousness.

"We gotta get goin’. There’s some trouble at The Rusty Nail. Some out-of-towners getting rowdy with one of Octavia’s girls."

The Rusty Nail—a new bar they opened up on the edge of town that doubles as a strip club. Some of the women who work for Octavia have been stripping there on the weekends to make some extra cash.

Like I said, the Billings charter is making money however they can.

The mood shifts at the table, and I chime right in, "You want my help?"

It’s been boring as all hell since I got here. I could use some action to keep me busy.

Ripper hesitates, looking me up and down. "Nah, man. You're here to see your sister and the baby. Vacation, remember? We got this handled. Enjoy your time while you’re here. Highly doubt you even get a break back in Mexico."

I almost argue—I've never been good at sitting on the sidelines—but he's right.

I'm supposed to be taking a break from club shit, not diving into the Montana charter’s business when I'm supposed to be prospecting down in Mexico.

"If you're sure."

"We're good. Catch you later." They toss bills on the table and head out, leaving me alone with my coffee.

The place is starting to empty out as the afternoon drags on.

I check my phone—still another hour before I'm supposed to head back to Joslynn's place.

My mom's been blowing up my phone all morning, asking when I'm coming back, sending me photos of the baby like I haven't just seen her yesterday.

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