"Then, I won't do them."
She pursed her lips. "I don't think it works like that."
"It does with me." He approached her. "I'm not going to promise not to have a beer or some whiskey and light up a joint, but I'll stay away from the powder."
She looked up into his eyes. "It's not my position to tell you to stop."
"You're not telling me, sweetheart. It's my decision." He kissed her. "I'm going to step out and have a smoke, talk to Chrischris, and warm up my Harley. Give Cami a call or whatever you have to do to ask her if she wants to tag along, then we'll figure out if you're driving to the clubhouse or riding on the back of my bike with me."
"I'll call her and then take a quick shower." She stepped to the dresser to grab her clothes. "Paco?"
He stuck his head back in the room. "Yeah?"
"Thanks for staying with me last night and telling me the truth." She bit her tongue, keeping herself from saying any more.
She'd need to think over what he told her about falling in love with her, for trespassing in her apartment, for reading her journal. It was hard to justify what he'd done, breaking her privacy, but she couldn't excuse the real danger of Askook holding her captive, believing he owned her.
"I'd walk through hell for you, sweetheart."
If Paco hadn't snooped, she had no idea what would've happened to her. The thought of not getting away from her was too frightening to imagine.
"We'll figure out how to deal with you staying here or at my place after I talk to Priest," he said.
"The president of your club?"
"Yeah."
She forced a smile in understanding, but she was clueless how things were done inside Tarkio Motorcycle Club. "You're not going to tell him about what I wrote...are you?"
"Never." Paco's gaze softened, then he pointed at her and ducked out of sight. Her stomach fluttered. There were so many things she wanted to know about him.
But she couldn't shake the feeling that their time was limited.
That his sweet words to her were a cushion for the bad news that was coming.
Chapter 21Paco
Priest opened the door to the meeting room. Josie stepped back. Paco refused to let go of her hand. She could hear what he had to talk to his president about because it involved her.
"What's going on?" Priest ignored Josie and gave his attention to Paco while shutting the door behind him to the meeting room and standing in the hallway.
"I need to talk to you." Paco hitched his chin, stepped a few doors down, and entered one of the vacant bedrooms where the single Tarkio members often crashed.
Priest stayed at the entrance and left the door open. Paco put Josie's hand on his lower back, wanting her to hold on. Her fingers wrapped around his belt.
"I'll be staying at Josie's apartment until I stop the men from the Blackfoot reservation from coming after her," he announced. "I'll leave her phone number with Curley again to make sure he has it."
Priest glanced at Josie and back to him. "It's over. She's out. We're not going back in."
He suspected Priest's stance before he'd voiced his decision. It was one thing to eliminate a threat to a committed wife or old lady, but Priest only knew Josie as an employee at Banks' Body Shop, who he'd taken an interest in.
"She's a WAG now," he said.
"That doesn't change my opinion." Priest's gaze hardened.
He went by the rules of the club. If he claimed Josie, he had a right to go after Shaw. Security was probably sky high all over the casino and resort. It was a job to do alone. He wasn't asking for the club's help.
Josie's hand pulled at his belt. He put his arm around her. No matter how much she wanted to keep the reasons why Robert Shaw was after her, she would need to accept that Tarkio Motorcycle Club was the reason why she was standing with him today.
He'd signed his life over to the club and wore the patch. Tarkio would need to give him permission to go after Shaw.
"I'm not going to risk one of my men or put the club in jeopardy. One look at you, and the cops on the reservation would swarm and arrest you. If we rode in as a club, we'd all go down." Priest folded his arms across his chest. "We'll discuss this in the morning at the table. In the meantime, I'll put someone on you and make damn sure your ass stays in Missoula."
"That's bullshit, prez." Under the watchful eye of the club, he couldn't do shit.
"We'll talk in the morning." Priest clamped his hand on his shoulder. "In the meantime, go relax and know we have you and your WAG covered."
He escorted Josie out of the hallway and stopped at the side of the main room. Needing a few minutes to calm down, he put her in front of him—her back against his front—and let the music settle over him.
Priest gave him the answer he expected. But he was far from finished. He would go after Shaw.
If someone went after Prez's old lady, Nicole, Priest would be the first one to go. Any of the Tarkio members wearing a patch would do the same thing for their woman, their daughter.
He'd learned long ago not to hesitate and to go with his gut. If he had listened to his instinct years ago and not waited another day, Penny would be alive.
Josie squirmed in his arms and turned around to face him. He loosened his hold, not realizing he was holding on to her too tightly.
She stretched to her tiptoes and whispered in his ear. "What did you call me?"
He frowned, not understanding her question.
"You called me a wag?" she said.
He kissed her softly. "It's a status, meaning you belong to me. I claimed you."
Two tiny creases
