Wandering toward the back, he glanced to the left where the private hallway was located. Like other nights, a security guard hovered nearby. He'd need to wait until the man got distracted before attempting to breach the area.
He wanted to see if the rooms were being used. If women were being held under duress. From all his stake-outs, he still hadn't figured out if Shaw was set to a schedule because he couldn't be here every night to view his habits.
The guard looked his way. Paco shifted, adjusting the bill of his hat to keep from making eye contact.
The hair on his arms prickled his skin. He took out his wallet, giving the impression he was a guest, here to gamble. Unable to shake the feeling he'd brought attention to himself, he used his hat to shield another look at the guard.
Not finding him at the hallway entrance, he searched and found him with an elderly couple, talking with the hostess. He had the perfect opportunity to slip into the hallway and check out the private area, and he put his wallet in his back pocket, being careful not to shift the security of the pistol tucked under his belt.
Priest, Curley, and Rick knew of his plans to come stake out the casino. But, he hadn't planned on coming inside despite dressing the part.
His need to finish Shaw off and give Josie the security she needed had brought him inside. He couldn't risk getting caught.
He strolled through the crowd and walked out the doors. Outside the entrance, he grabbed his pack of smokes out of the chest pocket of his flannel and lit a cigarette. Pissed that he couldn't do much alone, he had no other option than to come back again a different night. Somehow, Shaw would fuck up.
Pressure on his back lowered his hand to his side, and he let go of the cigarette to reach behind him for his weapon when a man's voice said, "Don't reach for your gun. We've got your girl."
His chest pounded, and he held still. "Bullshit."
"I don't think you want to take a chance that I'm right." The man pressed what Paco suspected was the nozzle of a pistol into his kidney. "We're going to walk back inside and go down the hallway you're determined to use. Robert Shaw would like to talk with you."
He gritted his teeth. Shaw wasted his time. If he wanted to have a meeting, he shouldn't have sent his henchmen to do the job.
Shaw wasn't dealing with any motherfucker. Paco had no value on his life. He lived each day, expecting to die. Hell, he'd expected to leave this miserable life years ago.
It should be him rotting in the ground in an unmarked grave at the bottom of a mountain valley instead of his sister. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
With Shaw out of the picture, Josie would be safe. That's all he lived for.
If him dying saved Josie, he'd help the asshole pull the trigger.
Paco ignored the pistol jammed against his back and turned toward the man. Recognizing him as one of the guards he passed entering the Casino, he stared into the face of someone who answered to Shaw.
"You can tell Shaw if he wants to talk to me, I'm right here," said Paco.
"You'll go with—"
"I ain't going anywhere with you." Paco backed up a step. "He knows where to find me."
Turning, he walked away from the casino. The asshole wasn't going to shoot him in the front of the building with other people around. The crime would be too hard to hide.
Without looking back, he forced himself to walk to the truck. Only when he'd reached the vehicle had he got a glimpse of the front of the building to see the guard gone from the spot by the door.
Revving the engine, he pulled forward and headed away from the casino. He drove around three cars and shifted. He needed to get the hell off the reservation, and then he needed to get back to Josie and make sure the guard was throwing bullshit his way about having her.
He had her protected. Whip was taking his turn watching the apartment tonight, keeping an eye on Josie and Cami.
There was no way Shaw or his men could get to her.
Unless they took out Whip. And then, Josie wouldn't stand a chance.
He punched the steering wheel in his frustration and inability to be there for her. The pain of failing his sister had him second guessing Shaw and how to deal with the situation. He stomped on the accelerator, unable to drive fast enough to get back to Missoula.
He'd walk through fire for Josie. The crimes he'd committed, the lives he'd taken, the things he'd seen, he was at the end of his life. Josie was only beginning.
She deserved someone better than him. The freedom to find her happiness. To look forward to the sun rising, the way she spoke of when she stood at the window to catch the first glow over the mountain in the morning.
She deserved to have children and teach them the language he'd heard coming from her beautiful lips but couldn't understand.
She deserved to know when she closed her eyes each night, there was no need for a knife beside her bed.
Wheezing for breath, he slammed on the brakes, taking the last corner before he left Blackfoot land. The tires squealed, leaving a black trail on the asphalt. He looked in his rearview mirror. Smoke from the rubber, grabbing the road, followed him.
He shifted, gaining control of the truck, as a tribal police car came toward him. Braking brought him back down to the speed limit, but he was too late.
The Blackfoot officer flipped on his overhead lights, crossed the center line in the road, and came to a stop, blocking him from making it off the reservation.
He
