Page 3 of His Other Half

Chapter 2

Josie

Robert "Askook" Shawstepped into the room, speaking with two other men. Josie pressed her shoulder against Cami, signaling her to stop crying. For the last four days, all she'd tried to do was bolster her friend's spirit.

But with each passing hour, Cami grew more despondent.

Beyond terrified for her friend, she needed to stay strong. The worst thing she could do was bring Cami down and feed into the hopelessness of the situation.

Afraid she'd draw the men's attention by talking too loudly, Josie lifted her chin and remained quiet. She'd avoided men like Askook her whole life growing up on the reservation, and for good reasons.

But nine months ago, everything changed thanks to her father. She'd unwillingly got dragged into the corrupt world run by men with more power, more money.

She hated Askook. It was time people like him were punished for their crimes.

He'd left the reservation years ago, leaving behind his mother and sister—who'd attended school with Josie. Askook returned when the family home burnt down, killing his whole family. From that moment, he became evil. He'd forgotten everything taught to him and joined the corruption of those in charge of the casino.

Cami whimpered. Josie shushed her friend under her breath. If they stood any chance of getting out of here, Cami needed to hold it together and help her.

The other two ladies kidnapped by Askook's men sat on the other side of the room, huddled together with their arms tied with rope. Luckily, Cami had peed her pants earlier, and they'd removed her from the group. Josie had caused a scene until they moved her next to Cami—which was her plan all along.

She and Cami had formed a fast friendship when she'd moved to Missoula and ended up renting the apartment beside her. There was nothing she wouldn't do to help her friend. Including going up against the man who ran the sex trafficking ring at the casino and had the power to control the National Indian Gaming Commission to turn a blind eye on the activities done on the reservation.

Askook and the rest of the men all had Blackfoot running in their blood, like her. But money controlled their life. Her people were scared to go up against them.

Gone were the days when they respected their heritage. There were terrible people in every community, and she was looking at three of them.

"Cami, please be quiet," she whispered. "You have to hold it together."

The men moved toward the other group of women. One by one, they untied them.

She swallowed the fear tightening her throat. The women stood while one man used tape to silence them. Neither woman put up a fight or screamed.

She couldn't fault them for not reacting. They were kidnapped over three weeks ago, along with Cami. She could only imagine what they'd been through in the hands of the men.

She also wasn't naive about what was in the future for the women.

Rumors flew around the Rez, surrounding the activities at the casino. Women disappeared more often within the Blackfoot community than in Missoula. Even in the whole state of Montana.

A young mother disappeared, walking back from the store after dinner one night, never to be seen again. A teenage girl disappeared after her boyfriend dropped her off in front of her house after attending one of the ceremonies. A woman strung out on alcohol was last seen sleeping outside the meeting hall, and no one knew what happened to her.

She glanced at Cami. Pushing the thoughts that her friend, too, had probably seen and experienced more than she had under the men's watch.

Would she lose the desire to fight, to gain her freedom, in a week? Two Weeks? Would they keep her that long, or would they get rid of her or sell her—whatever their final plan was?

The two men escorted the other ladies out of the room. Josie's spine stiffened as Askook walked toward her.

She stiffened her back against the wall, unwilling to show fear. He'd ruined her life. She hoped he'd burn alive. Slowly.

Askook squatted in front of her. "Nitána."

She spit in his face. "I am not your daughter."

His nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the spittle off him. After he tucked the bit of cloth back in his pocket, he held his temper.

"In honor of your father, you should respect what he helped build."

"He should've killed you."

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