Page 40 of His Other Half

Chapter 16

Paco

Wyatt shut the doorbehind him. Paco dangled the beer bottle between his spread thighs. The others had witnessed him losing it before.

But Josie hadn't.

She sat on the arm of the couch even after the others had left. Rick waited outside for when Josie was ready to go home.

If it was up to him, he'd send her away without giving her a reason for why the others had brought her to him. If it was up to him, he never would've allowed her to know what he'd done. If it was up to him, he'd never do anything to scare her.

She slid off the arm of the couch and sat on the cushion beside him. Most women would see him in the condition he was in and either ask him to share his stash or hit the highway running.

There were more important things for Josie to do than sit with him. He cleared his throat, took a drink, and said, "Where's Cami?"

"Chrischris is staying with her."

Caught up in his own shit, he hadn't had time to figure out what was going on between those two. He only knew his MC brother was hanging out at the apartments anytime he wasn't at the clubhouse.

He stood and walked into the kitchen, kicking dishes out of his way. Turning the bottle upside down, he let the rest of his drink go down the drain. The last thing he remembered was getting into his box above the fridge.

Glancing around the kitchen, he found the container he hid for those times he lost control. His gut tightened.

Empty.

He had nothing left for the next time.

"Can I make you a sandwich?"

He dropped the bottle in the sink and turned. "I'm not hungry."

"Maybe food will help you feel better. Or, I can make coffee if you have some."

He wasn't worried about his moods. All he wanted to do was sweep all his problems under the rug and move on, but with Josie here, she forced him to face what had happened.

She'd leave if he told her the truth. He ground the heels of his palms in his eyes. His past resurrected itself when he lost control. All he had to do was get a grip and focus on the here and now.

He rode for Tarkio. There was shit to be done.

Tuesday, he needed to be at Promise to help bring in the deliveries. Wednesday, he'd ride with Priest and Curley to have a sit down with Moroad Motorcycle Club to discuss any activities by their mutual enemy, Cusclan MC. By then, he'd look forward to the weekend and knocking a few drinks back to forget the week and prepare for the next.

A routine is what he needed. Not the mixed-up shit he was going through lately, thinking about Josie and watching over her at night.

He was getting too close to her. He cared too fucking much.

She wasn't his sister. Josie had another chance at life. A good chance at a good life. He wasn't going to fuck that up for her.

"I'm fine. Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure." He lowered his arms and scratched his chest. "I probably smoked or snorted some bad shit."

Her brows lowered. Her judgment of him filled the room.

He'd finally found something that turned her off him.

Stepping toward her, he stopped himself from getting close enough to kiss her. "I’m going to take a shower. Go ahead and let Rick know you're ready to leave."

He walked past her, needing to get some space. Knowing that he cared too damn much about her, he'd have to push her away. For her own good. For her sanity. For her safety.

Stripping off his jeans, he stepped into the shower. The blast of cold water stunned him into the present until the water warmed. He washed the smoke and stink out of his hair, his beard, and off his body. The last twenty-four hours were wasted. Gone from his head.

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