Page 98 of His Other Half

Their routine helped him stay sober. She always seemed to know when he was getting caught up in the past. She made him stronger.

Whip rounded the corner and headed toward the house. Paco took one more hit off the cigarette and tossed the butt in the coffee can full of sand by the step.

Today was a long time coming.

He and Whip had skirted the subject of trust for longer than he'd wanted. To move on, they needed to settle things now.

Whip parked in the driveway, backing his motorcycle up to the garage. His MC brother toed the kickstand and got off the bike, hanging his helmet on the handlebar.

Whip met his gaze, took in the lack of a vest, then took off his leather and draped it over the seat. Paco removed his Tarkio ring and pocketed the piece of jewelry.

The rage that normally dwelled inside of him, looking for any excuse to make an escape, was missing. He met Whip halfway in the yard. He had a point to make.

"Brother," said Whip.

Paco studied him for any sign of disloyalty. Whip had tied his hair back at his neck. The lines etched around his eyes were more pronounced that usual. His MC brother had lived a lifetime already. He'd dealt with his parents' murders, took responsibility for his sister, and spent time in the state prison. Through it all, he'd remained loyal to the patch.

There were times he and Whip had stood beside each other against Cusclan. They'd protected each other's backs against Moroad. They'd busted heads with Lagsturns.

They'd shared the same joint, in an effort to find peace.

They'd swapped blood in more beatdowns than most.

They'd sat with each other in the middle of the night when demons knocked at their door.

They'd outraced each other in an effort to drain the bottles and forget about their past.

But Whip had crossed the line.

"The woman inside is mine." Paco stepped forward. "When I tell you to watch and protect, that means don't touch, don't look, don't let her out of your fucking sight. I don't give a damn who tells you differently. You do not let her go off alone."

Whip's cheek flinched.

Paco fisted his hand.

Whip lifted his chin and spread his arms wide. Without any hesitation, Paco hauled off and punched him in the face.

His MC brother quickly rebounded and jabbed him. Paco unleashed every bit of anger he held inside of him over Whip, letting Josie return to the reservation that fucked-up day as they both tumbled to the grass.

He spent all his energy on his punches. A reminder to Whip that Paco wouldn't let the mistake happen again.

Whip returned the hits hard enough, Paco had to work for the damage he made on the other man's body.

Throwing Whip to the side, Paco kicked out, landing a solid blunt to Whip's side. Adrenaline rushed him. Damn, that felt good.

He stood. His leg holding his weight.

Whip got to his hands and knees. The second he straightened, Paco got him with an uppercut under his jaw and knocked him out.

He shook his hand, pain radiating up his arm. Leaning over, he grabbed the hair at the top of Whip's head and shook him to consciousness, then dragged him to his feet.

Whip staggered, wagging his head, trying to gain his balance. Paco brought back his arm, threw his body weight forward, and —

"Paco!" said Josie.

He stopped, breathing heavily. Staring at Whip, ready for any move, he said, "Yeah?"

"Chrischris called. Cami's in labor. I need to go to the hospital and be with her."

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