She held out her hand. He looked at her, questioning her silently after she'd told him he couldn't be with her.
"Lay down with me. I'll watch over you while you close your eyes," she whispered.
He slipped his fingers into her hand. She pulled him to the bed. There was no reason to get under the covers. She wasn't going to sleep tonight, and he was fully dressed.
She climbed up on the bed. "Take your boots off."
He sat on the edge of the mattress and bent over. She studied his broad back, the patches on his leather vest.
They were so different. He was older. She was younger. He adorned himself with black leather, bulky rings on his fingers, and ink on his skin. She never wore makeup, kept her hair straight, and preferred to wear one beaded necklace in her mother's colors. She had one tattoo.
She reached up and rubbed the back of her shoulder. The symbol for Thunder bird.
At sixteen years old, she'd had an older boy at the Rez give her a tattoo. She'd picked Thunder Bird because she liked to think that someone was watching over her, guiding her, and keeping her focused on the future.
How little she knew at the time. Now, because of Paco showing up in her life, she believed it was a sign—one she was reluctant to believe in.
When Paco finished removing his boots, he stretched out beside her and pulled her against him. She snuggled, holding him close, and hummed in the quiet of the night. A song her mother used to sing her when she was little and wasn't feeling well.
She closed her eyes, comforted by him being here despite knowing in the end, they had to stop seeing each other. Even now, her body warmed and molded against him as if made to have sex with him. She'd never had an attraction that was more powerful than common sense.
Falling for someone who would never match her life was something careless women would do. Not her.
She had too much to fight for.
Paco stroked her back. His chest, underneath her cheek, rose and fell steadily, showing no sign of relaxing. It went against her belief to ask someone about their dreams without them volunteering the information. It was a sure way of inviting nightmares into her sleep. But she found herself struggling to keep her mouth shut. She wanted to know what was bothering him.
If she could lighten him of his burden. A burden she'd put on him. He could find some peace.
She lifted her head. Paco looked back at her as if he'd never stopped since getting into bed with her.
"I need to fix what I put you through." She rubbed her lips together. "I owe you."
He smoothed the hair off her forehead. "You don't owe me anything."
The question that kept popping up in her mind sprang out. "How did you know Askook took me?"
"Askook?"
She shook her head, remembering he wouldn't know Askook's tribal name. "Robert Shaw."
His body hardened. "Tarkio has suspected the National Indian Gaming Commission has had their fingers in the rash of missing girls over the years or at least ignored the problem, which meant those in charge of the Blackfoot Casino and Resort were responsible. It was the only explanation on how women could disappear from Missoula without a trace."
"Women on the Rez disappear all the time." She sat up on the bed and faced him. "Most people believe drugs and alcohol are involved, or they left the reservation on their own."
"Do your people search for them?"
She shook her head. "Not once they're off the land."
"They're going to keep doing it," he whispered. "But they're taking a bigger risk of getting caught if they keep stealing white women."
"What about those from the Rez?"
His brows lowered. "The FBI doesn't have any record of those born and living on the reservation. To them, they don't exist. It would be up to the tribal police to coordinate a search."
A shiver ran up her spine. "They don't. Not really. The most I've seen is when they interview the family."
She wasn't confident Askook would forget about her dad's payment. She would have to look over her shoulder until she grew old enough that Askook lost interest in her, and she became useless for his intentions.
She was lucky that Paco had rescued her, even if Askook wasn't the one who was killed during Cami's rescue.
"Lie down." He pulled her back against his chest.
She cuddled, wrapping her arm around his waist. A sigh escaped her. There were many whispers on the reservation when someone went missing. She had believed most of the stories held little truth, and the women had gone away to live on the outside.
To think others were kidnapped and sold for sex in Montana or Mexico sickened her.
She tried to relax. The more answers she received, the more truths floated to the surface.
Tilting her head, she looked at Paco. He stared at the ceiling.
He hadn't answered her question. How had he known she was missing?
Chapter 14Paco
The club meeting adjourned. Paco left the room as soon as Priest's fist hit the table. He'd asked one thing and got denied.
Going straight to the make-shift bar, he grabbed a whiskey bottle and took it outside with him. At his Harley, he packed the bottle in his duffle.
"Hold on." Curley jogged toward him. "Stick around and drink with us."
"Not in the mood for company." He threw his leg over the seat and toed the kickstand.
Curley looked toward the street. "It was an undivided vote, brother. We can't have you on the run when you're circling."
"Do what you gotta do, man. I'm out of here." Paco started the motorcycle and popped it into first gear, leaving his V.P.
No one needed to explain why Priest left him off the crew going to Northern California to check on the production of the
