Page 13 of His Other Half

He understood that she'd left the reservation after her father sold her to someone named Askook, who then killed her father. He understood that she'd escaped. He understood that every day she feared getting caught alone and forced to go back to the reservation. He understood her deep desire to kill her father's killer, and she suffered over her father's betrayal and rejection.

Josie shook her head, doubting him. He wouldn't tell her how he knew. She was not a woman who would want others to know her sadness.

Just like he would never tell her, he understood more than she realized.

"What if you don't get her? What if she's gone?" she asked.

"Then, I'll follow the trail and try to bring her back."

"In Mexico?"

He shrugged. "Wherever."

Josie studied him. Uncomfortable under her inspection, he turned sideways to hide his ghosts.

The recent missing girls. Reading Josie's journal. The danger standing in front of him. Everything brought up his past and played with his thoughts.

His head throbbed. Tingling covered the back of his neck. He couldn't breathe.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered.

He flicked his cigarette to the ground, stepped on the butt, and looked at her. "I'm doing it for you."

She frowned. "You don't even know me."

"I know you."

She shook her head in confusion. The back door opened.

He looked toward the building, needing the distraction from Josie when Curley stuck his head out. "Are you coming?"

"Yep." He put his hand on Josie's back and took her back inside the clubhouse with him.

Handing her off to Chrischris for safekeeping, he stepped away and stopped himself from leaving. Going back to her, he leaned down and put his lips to her ear. "Whatever happens out there. Whether I come back with your friend or not, I'll make sure no one ever comes after you again."

Her hand landed on his chest. His heart pounded.

"And, you should never have any doubts about yourself. You're good enough," he whispered.

Josie's body stiffened, and she pulled her head back to look at him. Eyes rounded, she stared at him—whether, in fear that he knew her past or in surprise that he admitted he would kill, he couldn't tell.

He pointed his finger at her, making his point, and walked backward, wanting one more look at her before he turned and hit the door, not knowing if he'd return.

If he ended up dead today, his life would be worth the price if Josie gained the freedom to live without fear.

His life was worth shit.

Broken and damaged, he held no hope for changing or escaping. Whatever good came out of helping Josie wasn't enough to redeem him. He would never be good enough for her.

He was on a one-way ride to hell.