His Other Half (Patches Tarkio MC, #3) - Debra Kayn Page 0,6

wasn't his sister, Penny. But his past clung to him.

He'd take her home and not let her out of his sight.

He pulled into his driveway and shut off the Harley. "Go ahead and slide off."

Josie got off the motorcycle on the wrong side. He held the bike, and once she cleared her leg, he got off.

He unlatched his duffle. "Let's go inside the house."

"You live here?" She walked beside him, hugging her middle.

"Yeah." He unlocked the door and pushed it open. "You're safe here."

She stepped inside and stopped, looking around at his modest home. There were three bedrooms and a bathroom in the ranch-style house. Enough for him, and too big on occasion.

He locked the door and walked straight to the kitchen, where he could keep her in sight. Grabbing the whiskey bottle and two glasses, he returned to the living room.

Using the coffee table to pour them each a drink, he handed her one of the glasses. She shook her head. "I don't drink alcohol."

"Fair enough." He returned to the kitchen and shot back her drink instead of wasting good alcohol, then got her a glass of water—which she took and held between her cupped hands.

"What time is it?" She drank half the water with a shaky hand. "Can I use your phone?"

"Three o'clock." He retrieved the phone from the end table, dragging the cord, and set it on the coffee table in front of her.

She scooted to the edge of the couch, set the glass down, and picked up the receiver. Pausing, she frowned. "I can't remember..."

"What's wrong?"

She inhaled deeply. "I need a phone book. I-I can't remember the number."

He grabbed the book and handed it to her. She thumbed through the pages until she came to what she was searching for and held her finger on the page as she dialed.

Leaning over, he read the print above her unpainted fingernail. Shorty's Cab Service.

He reached over and pushed the button, hanging up before she could complete the call. "You're not leaving."

She stared at him. He took the receiver out of her hand, and she jumped from the couch, backing away.

Regretting his harshness, he put up his hands in surrender. He had to remember she wasn't used to his lifestyle. The sight of him with all his tattoos, long hair, and gruffness frightened women on the street.

While he surrounded himself with hardness and violence, Josie walked gently through life, skirting the things that would hurt her. He'd learned a lot about her through her journal. The same softness coming from her worked against her when dealing with the mob at the casino and what happened to her father.

Her shoulders straightened. "Are you involved with kidnapping women?"

He sprawled his hand on his chest, remembering he wasn't wearing his vest. "I’m a Tarkio Motorcycle Club member."

"I know who you are." She sidestepped toward the door. "I want to know if you are responsible for kidnapping my friend."

"Your friend?"

Her gaze narrowed. She wasn't going to volunteer more information.

"Banks grew concerned when you failed to show up at work, knowing there were other women in Missoula who'd disappeared recently. Tarkio figured out what had happened and came after you. Now you're here, and I'm going to make sure you remain safe."

"I've seen you before. What's your name?" she asked.

"Paco."

"What's that mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything." He studied her intently, unable to figure out where she was going with the conversation.

"It means something." She crossed her arms. "People don't pick a name out of the air and use it."

"What's Josie mean?" He sat on the couch, confident that she was ready to talk.

She shook her head. "Nothing, but it's easier to go by in Missoula than my real name."

"What's that?"

"Sokanon." She paused. "It means rain."

"You're Blackfeet."

Her mouth tightened. "Blackfoot."

"Same thing," he said.

She cleared her throat. "All Blackfeet are Blackfoot, but not all Blackfoot are Blackfeet."

Stumped at what she was talking about, he straightened his beard. "I'll take your word for it."

"You should. I have no reason to lie." During their discussion, she'd made it all the way to the front door.

She turned the door handle. Paco remained sitting. She couldn't leave without using the key in his pocket.

Her shoulders bowed, and her head fell forward, taking her long curtain of black hair and hiding her face. "Thank you for helping me, but I need to leave. Please let Banks know I'll apologize for not showing up for work after I save my friend."

Unfortunately, he understood the underground life more than her. If those responsible for