of his mind, he had the knowledge that what he was doing by keeping them apart was for her own good. What he thought was good made her feel rejected and unloved. It was something he couldn't change.
He sniffed and straightened. "Maybe I'll tell her the truth," he whispered.
The reason why Walker had been sent to prison had never gone beyond him and Priest. Far as he knew, Walker planned to take what happened to his grave. Some days, he wanted to tell Faye so fucking bad, he was willing to throw everything away—his club, his life, her.
But he always stopped. His loyalty to Tarkio ran deep in his blood.
"You can't tell her," said Priest, reminding him of the oath he'd sworn to the night he'd earned his patch.
Taking another hit off the joint Tarkio produced themselves, he handed the smoke back to his president. He waited for the right thing to do concerning Faye to become clear in his head, but he'd never lived his life doing the right thing.
Other men could rely on honor, loyalty, and pride to make their decisions. He acted on his gut to keep his ass out of trouble. He'd claimed Faye to keep the club from killing him for fucking with a member's family member without permission.
It was do or die.
Even if years had gone by and the initial reaction of him sleeping with an underaged Faye had softened Walker, he wasn't willing to let her go. He wanted her more than he wanted to be V.P. of Tarkio. Nobody would understand his position because the club was his life.
There was no way to clear up both of his problems. He had walker on one side and Faye on the other and damned if he felt like they were splitting him apart.
"She's your woman. Take what's rightly yours."
"Because, as it is, she hates me for how I treated her, but I can still take care of her when she's hating me, which at least lets me do something for her." His head pounded. "If I give her what she wants. Hell, what I want, and in five years or twenty years—if I'm still alive—and the truth comes out about Walker, it'll destroy her. Nothing between now and then will mean a damn thing. I'd rather cut out my heart."
"Curley..."
He looked at Priest. "If she finds out I was with Walker the night two Cusclan members were killed, and I should be the one sitting in prison instead of her uncle, she's not only going to go through life hating the sight of me, she's going to hate herself for loving me. I won't let that happen."
"You think she loves you?"
He straightened. "I know."
Priest rolled the end of the joint between his thumb and finger. Curley understood what Faye was going through because he was right there with her every step of the way. They couldn't be around each other without wanting more.
He rubbed his hands over his face. "I need to get home."
"Yeah, Nicole's sleeping. I'm going to hit the sack." Priest stepped toward the sliding door and paused. "You could just make sure Kingston Bar fires her and try to keep one step ahead of Faye as she hunts for a new job."
"I already did that when she got hired at Riverside Bar and look where she ended up."
"Then, create a job for her," said Priest.
His spine stiffened. "What do you mean?"
"Put her to work and control what happens. Hell, run a bar. Missoula can never have too many."
He scoffed. Being vice president took up the majority of his time. When would he have time to start a business?
As soon as he stomped out the idea, he gave it another thought. Faye would be with him every day if he could create a job for her. He could make sure her clothes weren't coming off. She'd be safe. He could keep other men away from her.
"Is Tarkio interested in running a bar?" He tilted his head. "Is that why you brought it up?"
Priest shrugged. "The club could foot the rent if you can find a building."
"There are enough members that need a job," he said aloud, thinking more on the idea.
"It'd be your baby. We're cooling down on running to California so often, and that frees up some of our time. You could make it work. Give it a year, and if it's profitable, and you want out, sell it or let the members keep it open." Priest slid open the door.