Page 45 of Boulder's Weight

"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 colorfulpapel picadohanging 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 ofhorchataand 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.

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