"Find who? I can help?"
"Nobody can help." He opened the drawer and scooped out the silverware. "I need to find where they took her."
A sinking feeling settled in her stomach. He talked about a female? Who was she?
"Okay. I'll help." She looked toward the living room, raising her brows in question to the others.
They had to see that Paco was not in his right frame of mind. She sought answers from Rick, and he shook his head. They were clueless about the situation.
Taking the knives from his hands, she said, "What am I looking for?"
"A piece of paper or mail. Maybe there's an address."
"Okay." She opened another drawer.
There was nothing in it but a deck of playing cards and a bottle opener with a gas station's name on the side. Pacifying him until he calmed and could explain what was going on, she glanced at him.
He kept looking at her and frowning. For several minutes, they worked together, searching every nook. She'd saved two bowls from breaking when he grew frustrated and stopped him when he reached the drinking glasses.
"Paco?"
"What?"
"Can we stop for a few minutes and talk?"
"Can't stop. Never stop." He stepped on a plate. The glass broke under his barefoot.
She grabbed him, sliding her arms around him. He jerked but settled in her embrace.
"Can you hold me?" she asked.
His arms went around her, and he slid his fingers through her hair. Wanting him to calm, she pressed her ear to his bare chest. His heart beat wildly. Afraid he'd hurt himself, she needed to distract him.
"I'll stay with you for as long as you need me." She rubbed his bare back. "I'm not going to leave you alone."
His overheated skin warmed her. He'd worked himself up until he acted irrationally. There was nothing in the kitchen cupboards. Going by the way the Tarkio members were reacting, they'd sensed something was off with him, too.
Paco didn't even look right to her. Unlike her, he'd never panicked or gone crazy with worry. He always came across confident and brave.
She hated seeing him like that. It was like consoling a stranger.
A stranger that reeked of alcohol, smoke, and sweat. She held on tighter, wanting to put him back together the way she remembered.
"Josie?" He fisted her hair and pulled her head back. "You're here?"
"Yes." She held on to him, worried about his lack of attention.
"You should be at home." He refused to let her go. "It's not safe here."
"You need me."
He looked over her head into the other room and frowned. "I..."
"It's okay." She kissed his chest, wishing there was something that would ease him back to the present.
He was having a walking dream. She'd heard of it happening to others. Usually, something traumatic set off an episode, or fear took hold of a person, and they'd lose touch with reality.
She studied him. His eyes. There was something different about them. It was the alcohol she smelled rolling off him or drugs. She couldn't be sure.
"I, uh, took too much shit," he muttered, stepping away from her and taking in the mess around him.
He must have searched for the paper he needed for a long time before she'd arrived. It wasn't only his kitchen that he'd trashed. The living room was in disarray, and the chairs at the table were tipped over.
"I need a beer or something." He ran his hands through his hair, brushing it off his face. "Jesus..."
She stood back, letting him do what he needed to get control of himself. When he was ready, she'd be there to listen.
Chapter 16Paco
Wyatt shut the door behind him. Paco dangled the beer bottle between his spread thighs. The others had witnessed him losing it before.
But Josie hadn't.
She sat on the arm of the couch even after the others had left. Rick waited outside for when Josie was ready to go home.
If it was up to him, he'd send her away without giving her a reason for why the others had brought her to him. If it was up to him, he never would've allowed her to know what he'd done. If it was up to him, he'd never do anything to scare her.
She slid off the arm of the couch and sat on the cushion beside him. Most women would see him in the condition he was in and either ask him to share his stash or hit the highway running.
There were more important things for Josie to do than sit with him. He cleared his throat, took a drink, and said, "Where's Cami?"
"Chrischris is staying with her."
Caught up in his own shit, he hadn't had time to figure out what was going on between those two. He only knew his MC brother was hanging out at the apartments anytime he wasn't at the clubhouse.
He stood and walked into the kitchen, kicking dishes out of his way. Turning the bottle upside down, he let the rest of his drink go down the drain. The last thing he remembered was getting into his box above the fridge.
Glancing around the kitchen, he found the container he hid for those times he lost control. His gut tightened.
Empty.
He had nothing left for the next time.
"Can I make you a sandwich?"
He dropped the bottle in the sink and turned. "I'm not hungry."
"Maybe food will help you feel better. Or, I can make coffee if you have some."
He wasn't worried about his moods. All he wanted to do was sweep all his problems under the rug and move on, but with Josie here, she forced him to face what had happened.
She'd leave if he told her the truth. He ground the heels of his palms in his eyes. His past resurrected itself when he lost control. All he had to do was get a grip and focus on the here and now.
He rode for Tarkio. There was shit to be done.
Tuesday, he needed to be at Promise to help bring in the deliveries. Wednesday, he'd ride with Priest and Curley
