His Other Half (Patches: Tarkio MC Book 3)

Cami was taken, but he pulled her in the opposite direction.
"No." She looked over her shoulder, needing to go the other way.
He kept leading her toward the end of the hallway. She dragged her feet.
"Stop. I have to go after her." Her adrenaline spiked, struggling in his arms. "My friend. They have my friend."
"Sweetheart, we're going to be lucky to get out of here alive." He pulled her into a stairwell.
The door shut. Her breathing echoed in the hollow space. Failure consumed her.
The loss of her friend stripped her of strength. She descended the stairs on legs made of rubber. If it wasn't for the Tarkio member, she would've fallen.

Chapter 3Paco
The rope fell away from Josie's wrists. Paco wasted no time and looped his arm around her back, hustling her toward the door. It would be quicker and less dangerous for Josie if he took her straight through the casino and blended in with the guests than taking her out the back.
"We have to go back." Josie kept up with him, descending another floor. "They're going to take Cami away. I'll never find her if I don't go now."
"You need to worry about yourself. I need to get you out of here now." He stopped at the next door. "Walk beside me and don't draw any attention to yourself. If for some reason, we get split up, I want you to get outside and hide. When it's safe to do so, take the main road leading away. Run. Don't stop. More Tarkio members are waiting to get you to safety."
Lines marred her forehead. He gripped the door handle. There was no time to wait to see if she understood. Time was running out.
Even more dangerous than shooting the men to get to Josie was the thought of his MC brothers coming in with shooting the place up and getting arrested if he failed to get her out in time.
Stepping out of the stairwell, he scanned the casino's main room and started walking, setting their course. He kept his hand near his waist, where he'd tucked his pistol. Any sign of aggression or someone coming close to Josie, and he was prepared to shoot their way out of the casino and ride like hell off the Blackfoot reservation.
Josie slowed. Tightening his hold on her, he kept her moving forward.
"Keep walking," he murmured.
He'd had no time to make sure she was okay. Physically, she could walk. That's all that mattered at the moment. Once he got her home, he'd deal with everything else.
Slipping past the two guards standing at the front door, he stepped outside and kept going. If someone was going to shoot him, there would be witnesses around.
The parking lot was only a quarter full at two o'clock in the afternoon. He and Josie were sitting ducks.
His stride made her jog beside him. "Can you run?"
"Yes," she said.
He grabbed her hand, not willing to let go of her in case she changed her mind and headed back to the casino, and forced her to run as he jogged.
Twenty-five yards from his Harley, he slowed and looked behind them. He'd already killed one guard. The others involved in kidnapping the women should be after him.
The fact that nobody appeared behind them, intent on following Josie and coming after him, puzzled him. He suspected they would wait until he headed away from the casino, away from other people, and take him out before he rode off the reservation.
"Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle?" He grabbed the helmet he'd left on the handlebar and plopped it on her head, quickly securely the strap through the D-ring.
"No."
"Sit behind me. Put your feet on the pegs. Wrap your arms around me. Hold me as tight as you can and don't move." He sat the Harley. "Now."
She climbed on behind him. He waited until she plastered her body against his back and roared the engine to life. Setting the pistol between his legs, he rode out of the parking lot, popping gears one after another.
If the tribal police wanted to chase him, he'd lead them to the border because he had no plans of stopping.
Twelve minutes later, he spotted the other Tarkio members up ahead. Glancing in his side mirror, he expected company.
Not stopping once he crossed the road and went up Pelham Road to Interstate 90. He hauled ass straight to Missoula and straight to his house. He'd already told the others that if the rescue was a success, he wouldn't return to the clubhouse. It would be the first place anyone from the casino would come looking for Josie after seeing him. Then, they'd go to her apartment. But he'd make sure she wasn't there.
Conscious of Josie on the back of his motorcycle, the forty-minute trip seemed to take much longer. Throughout the ride, she clung to him without moving, exactly how he'd told her.
He couldn't shake off the feeling all hell was going to break loose. That Josie's life was still in danger. That if he closed his eyes or turned his back, she'd disappear.
Josie 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