His Other Half (Patches Tarkio MC, #3) - Debra Kayn Page 0,35

in the doctor's parking lot. Together, they walked inside and checked Cami in with the receptionist. She was happy to go to the appointment with Cami. It got her mind off Paco and kept her away from the apartment. Being there only reminded her of being with him.

Chapter 18

Paco

The Saturday night crowd at Promise pressed against Paco's back. He motioned Hammer over. His MC brother stayed busy tending the bar.

"I'm going to hightail it out of here. I'll catch you later." He got up from the stool at the counter. "What time is the meeting tomorrow?"

"Not until eleven o'clock."

He knocked on the counter and then weaved his way through the crowd. It was more comfortable at the clubhouse. There, everyone was in the same boat, wearing the patch.

The warm night settled on him. He'd nursed one beer since riding out tonight.

He wasn't in the mood to drink. The last time he let loose would hold him for a while.

Pulling in front of the clubhouse, he scanned the line of bikes. For a Saturday night, only thirty or so bikers were about.

Curley walked out of the shadows of the building and headed toward him. "I thought you'd be here earlier."

"I stopped in at Promise." He walked inside the clubhouse with his vice president. "It's packed over there."

"With the crew in California, it's a quiet night here. I was thinking about heading home."

"Did Faye let you go out on your own?"

"Nah." Curley pointed to the pool table. "The ladies grabbed her the moment we got here. Joey's challenging Wyatt to pool, and he's getting his ass handed to him."

He peered over at the game. Rick and Tracy's oldest boy ran into his leg and crashed onto the floor. He righted the kid.

"It's like a fucking daycare in here." The sight of the kids in the clubhouse only confirmed his belief he belonged here. It was the closest he would get to have a family of his own.

Curley chuckled. "Future Tarkio, man."

"Yeah." He slapped Curley's back. "I'm gonna book."

"No drink?"

He shook his head. "I'm good."

Leaving the clubhouse, he headed home. Whether his mood or the lack of sleep over the last week, home seemed like the best place for him. With Tarkio laying low while business was taken care of in California, he longed for when the club was back together. A fight or two would do him good.

Taking the long route, he rode by Josie's apartment. He wasn't going to stop. He'd hurt her enough.

He slowed in front of the building. Chrischris wasn't with Cami tonight. He would've thought his MC brother was spending all his free time with her.

At the stop sign, he turned right. A cluster of men surrounded a car parked at the curb.

He studied them. They turned toward the sound of his Harley and then ducked their chins, turning their back to the street. There were drugs in all areas of Missoula, but in today's world, they usually kept their dealings inside buildings and houses and away from the streets where the cops could catch them.

He slowed for the upcoming curve in the road and ended up slamming on his brake, skidding on the asphalt. Going in the other lane, making a U-turn, he headed back to where the group of men was standing.

His pulse roared in his veins. It wasn't a drug deal in the open. The license plate on the nearby car came from the reservation.

Not seeing the car they'd gathered around or the men, he sped down the street and turned. All senses on alert, he strained to see the area in front of Josie's apartment. A bad feeling in his gut told him to hurry.

Pulling up to the curb, he hopped off his bike and strode across the small patch of grass to her apartment.

He pounded on the door with his fist. When no immediate answer came, he knocked again.

"Josie, it's Paco. Open up." He looked down at the keyring in his hand and picked the key for her door.

The apartment opened before his hand got to the handle, and Josie stood, blocking his way inside. He gazed over her from head to toes and back up again.

"You're okay?" His tight chest made his question gruffer than he was feeling.

She stared at him without answering. Gut punched, he glanced at the street. She hadn't seen what he had. She hadn't worried that Robert Shaw or his men were in the neighborhood. She hadn't felt the fear he had over Shaw getting his hands on