His Other Half (Patches Tarkio MC, #3) - Debra Kayn Page 0,14

surface. Today was the worst day, and it was a new beginning.

Gazing over Cami's head, she found Paco watching her. An unspoken understanding passed through his gaze.

She wanted to thank him.

She wanted to give him something to pay him back.

She wanted to take care of his injury.

Most of all, she wanted to understand the pain that was reflected back at her. The anger and frustration he carried like a shield in front of him slipped when she was in front of him.

She mouthed, "Nitsiniiyi'taki."

He nodded as if he understood the old language of her people. Then, he turned and walked out of the building. She stared after him, knowing in her heart that she would never see him again.

Like Thunder Bird, he'd disappear. His job of guiding her was over.

Chapter 7

Paco

The air pressed in on Paco. He strode toward his Harley, cutting through Priest and Curley talking.

"Hey," shouted Priest. "Aren't you going to stick around?"

"Nope." He threw his leg over the seat of his motorcycle.

Movements that came naturally seemed clumsy. His vision narrowed. There was something he was supposed to do? He bent at the waist, grabbing his head. He had to think.

Shaking the fog out of his head, he went through what he'd done.

Josie.

Cami.

Casino.

Killing.

He panted, getting on his Harley, seeking the familiarity of his bike. The women. He forgot to take care of Josie and Cami.

"Take the girls home, huh?" He wrenched on the handlebars, finding it locked, and reached down to turn the key.

His chest burned from lack of oxygen, and he fumbled to turn the sticky ignition. Rage filled him, and he punched the gas tank.

Priest appeared beside him. "Get off the bike."

"Nah, man. Leave me alone. I gotta get out of here." He reached for the key again but never made contact.

Curley grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around his chest, locking his arms to his sides. Penned up, adrenaline exploded as his body left the bike.

He struck out with his fist, connecting hard. Shouts filled his ears. He roared, kicked out at the binding around his legs.

Losing control, he was right back to fighting.

The men dumped Penny's fragile, limp body on the floor in front of him. Using his hands, he dragged his lower body forward across the concrete of the warehouse. The pain of his broken body replaced with rage by the devastating sight of his sister.

One of the guards moved forward, taking a running start, and kicked him in the ribs, sending him rolling farther away from Penny.

Blind fury filled him. Failing to get to his feet, he threw his upper body toward the man, hooking the man's calf with his arm to the laughter of the other men in the warehouse. In a blink, he was on top, pounding his fists into the guy's face.

Blood splattered his already bruised and bleeding body. He swung, over and over, but nothing brought Penny to her feet. Nothing returned her smile. Nothing returned her to him.

Long after the man stopped moving, Paco raised his head. Strengthened at killing the man, he crossed the ten feet, separating him from the other two men.

His vision blackened. Exerting every last ounce of strength, he fought. He fought for the fucked-up childhood he and Penny were given. He fought against everyone who had kept him apart from his sister. He fought against the supposed friends who'd led Penny down the wrong path and had taken advantage of her.

He fought.

He fought.

He fought until there were no more people alive in the warehouse.

Pulling himself over to Penny, he gathered her lifeless body in his arms and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Paco, calm down, man." Curley pinned him to the ground.

He shook his head, trying to get the past out of his head. Priest held his hair, immobilizing him. Trying to get his feet under him, he realized others were holding down his legs.

Hissing, he contracted all his muscles, trying to break away.

"We've got you." Priest's face hovered over his. "That's it. Go ahead and wear yourself out."

He tried to get up again, weakness overcoming him. Sucking in air, he gave up.

"Breathe, brother," said Banks.

He cleared his throat, the moment becoming clearer. "Josie?"

"Safe inside with Cami." Banks pushed off his legs and kneeled. "Let him go. He's got it."

The others released him with a slap on his chest. He remained on his back in the parking lot in front of the clubhouse and inhaled a few deep breaths. He'd almost lost it inside the back room of the