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  Winter coughed and grabbed for her drink. She drank, coughed, drank again. Her face was apple red and tears in her eyes. She turned in her chair and looked at me.

  “What?”

  “What did I say?” I asked.

  “My husband?”

  “Yeah. I was told you’re a widow.”

  Winter stood up. She put her fingertips to the table to brace herself. Three beers in and she was already feeling it pretty good.

  Why did it turn me on that she was a cheap drunk?

  “I’ve never been married,” Winter said. “Get that straight.”

  “Okay. I’m just going by what I was told.”

  “Fuck what you were told,” Winter said. “I was never married to Rocky. I was his old lady. So, yeah, in the world of the MC, I’m a widow. But it’s not true. He never gave me a ring. He never asked me. I never got the gown and all that, okay? I was just his old lady.”

  Jesus, Winter,” I said. “I’m sorry. You’re not a widow then. Your boyfriend was murdered. Fine. I can live with that then. I’m just…”

  Winter stepped toward me. Her blue eyes drunk, anger all around her.

  Anger made people do crazy things. Fight. Kill. The insatiable need to fuck or get fucked.

  And I was against the couch. My only defense would be to roll back and over the couch.

  But I didn’t.

  Winter put a hand to my chest. “I was his old lady, Tripp. That meant anything he wanted, I did. No matter what. Like I was supposed to be some lucky woman, you know? Because I had him. I had protection from him and the MC. But that’s not how it fucking works. He got himself killed and now I’m out there. If someone from the MC wants me, they can stake their claim. Then I’ll just be an old lady again. I’ll get thrown around, smacked if I do something wrong, and then I’ll just be used. On my hands and knees, ass in the air, taking it… because he says so.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  Now I was angry.

  Was this the life Winter had been living?

  Winter blinked and tears filled her eyes.

  I resisted the urge to touch her, comfort her.

  I was here for business. To protect her. To keep her safe.

  That was it.

  Her hand moved up my chest to my neck. When his nails touched my skin, she set me on fire. My cock pressed against my jeans. There was no controlling it. She was making me hard and making it hard to keep my cool.

  “So that’s how I feel,” Winter whispered. “I’m just here to be used up and thrown around. Is that what you want to do to me, Tripp? Go ahead. I’m drunk enough. Order me around. You want to fuck me?”

  My hands shot out and I grabbed her by the waist. I pushed her back to the table. She crashed into it, knocking over all the empty beer bottles. They clanked on the table, a couple rolling off and hitting the floor.

  I ignored everything but Winter’s wild eyes.

  The tip of my nose touched hers.

  Fuck, it was just so tempting. I could just go for it. I could just rip her clothes off, put her on the table, and fuck her brains out. We both wanted it. Shit, we both needed it. She wanted to feel protected and alive. I just wanted to fuck.

  My hands squeezed tight at her waist.

  She was almost panting.

  Then a tear fell town her cheek.

  I shut my eyes and sighed.

  “Fuck,” I growled.

  “Tripp…”

  I pushed away from her and left Winter standing there, knees bent, hands gripping the edge of the table, her entire body screaming with a need for sex.

  “You need to go to sleep,” I said. “Right now.”

  “You don’t want to hear anything else?” she asked.

  “Right now? No. I’m not here to baby you. I’m not your fucking therapist.”

  Christ, Tripp.

  I held myself like stone, just like I had done with Aldo when I thought he was going to kill me.

  Winter’s mouth fell open. She blinked faster, more tears coming to her eyes.

  “Fuck you,” she said. “Fucking asshole.”

  “Go,” I ordered and pointed. “And don’t lock the door either. If you do, I’ll shoot it open.”

  Winter ran into the bedroom and slammed the door.

  I pictured her diving to her bed and crying.

  My hands were shaking like loose leaves in an autumn breeze.

  I spun around and threw a right fist at the wall. I smashed through the drywall but then quickly found out - and remembered - it was a fucking converted garage. My punch ended where the concrete wall began under the drywall.

  I growled and pulled my fist back. I walked to the fridge and grabbed a fresh beer.

  Then I sat at the table, lifting the beer bottle with my right hand, fresh blood running down my hand and dripping to the floor.

  I didn’t give a shit.

  Then I remembered the gun I had brought.

  Maybe I could just finish the job myself…

  8.

  (Winter)

  I opened the bedroom door slowly. I saw a hole in the wall and saw blood on the table. I walked to the table and saw Tripp’s gun sitting there. When I turned, I saw him on the couch. His hands behind his head, his right foot on the floor, his left leg stretched out. The couch was too small for his muscular body, but there was only one bed in the place.

  And like hell I was going to share my bed with Tripp. He was here to protect me and nothing more.

  Even though I tried to throw myself at him last night.

  Could anyone honestly blame me though? I’d been trapped in a world of darkness and mental torture for almost my entire life. The day I found out Rocky had been killed, I thought for a second I had a sliver of hope at surviving. But then the MC was right there. They all claimed they were going to take care of me, but I knew eventually one of them would choose me as their own.

  I thought about waking up Tripp and apologizing for last night, but I decided against it. The front door was locked, the windows all shut. I was as good as protected for the moment.

  After making coffee, I tossed up some scrambled eggs. I had exactly five eggs left to eat. I guess if Sarah wasn’t going to show up with a bag of groceries again, I’d have to take care of myself. I doubted that Sarah would be in a good mood with me after Tripp jacked up Harlan. But Harlan had that coming though. He shouldn’t have snuck into my place.

  It really bothered me more I thought about it.

  Him sitting there in the dark with a gun.

  What if I was alone?

  What was his real intention of being in my place?

  I glanced back at the couch and smirked. Tripp might have saved me big time last night. Off to a good start, I guess.

  I cleaned up the dining room table and put the eggs and coffee on it. In the back of my mind, I wondered what the hell was really going on. The MC had power and strength. Yet Stoney called in a favor to have me protected? The pieces to the puzzle were not adding up.

  Tripp sat up and looked right at me. His eyes were a little weary but still so damn sexy. He looked around my place and then stood up. He grabbed his gun and tucked it away.

  Then he stretched.

  His shirt pulled up a little, revealing enough stomach muscle to make any decent woman’s panties writhe with moisture. That included my own. I looked down at the coffee and eggs on the table.

  “Breakfast,” I said.

  “I smell it,” Tripp said. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  He walked to the table and sat down.

  The silence was very weird. We exchanged a few glances and the soundtrack to our breakfast was a fork hitting the plate, a fork scraping off teeth, and the slurp of hot coffee.

  Finally, I put everything down. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “What about?”

  “Tripp, we were drunk but not that drunk. I shouldn’t have pushed at you like I did, okay? I’m sorry. I’m scared. I don’t understand what’s happen
ing or why.”

  “I call bullshit on that, darling.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, you heard me. You’re tangled up with a MC and you have the guts to tell me you don’t understand what’s happening? I’m sure if you thought about it real hard, you could find some skeletons hanging around your closet. If you want me to protect you the right way, then start talking. If not, then I’ll just be here until I’m not.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  Tripp finished his coffee. He stood from the table. “It’s simple. You have to have some idea why Rocky was killed. And if the MC thinks you’re next, there’s a connection. You’re important enough to protect but not important enough to save. That means you have something they want.”

  “Who is they?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Isn’t that a great feeling,” I muttered.

  Tripp walked his plate and mug to the counter. He then turned and looked at me. “For the record, I’d like to believe you’re important enough to protect and save. So prove it to me.”

  Tripp then went into the bathroom and shut the door.

  He didn’t lock it.

  I heard the water turn on.

  I frowned and thought about everything that could have been coming back to bite me in the ass. There was a lot. My life didn’t have a skeleton or two in a closet. It had a house.

  I waited at the bathroom door.

  Tripp opened it and jumped back a step.

  “Start at the beginning,” I whispered. “Let’s go visit the MC.”

  ~

  I waved and the gates to the compound were opened. I glanced casually at Tripp, wondering if he’d be intimidated by the sight of all the motorcycles and the rough and tough bikers as they wandered around.

  His face was like stone.

  His eyes the same.

  It was like nothing bothered the guy.

  Well, except whatever made him punch the wall last night.

  Did I cause that?

  Heat rushed to my face as he stopped the car and climbed out.

  I got out of my side and rushed around, but not before a group of the guys were already on their way to greet the stranger.

  “This is Tripp,” I called out. “He’s protecting me.”

  “Protecting,” one of the guys - Crusher - said. “Like nothing we can’t fucking do ourselves.”

  “Ease up,” a voice growled.

  It was Stoney working through the crowd.

  He stopped and stared at Tripp. He eyed him up and down. “You carrying?”

  “Of course I am,” Tripp said.

  “Give me your weapon.”

  “Fuck yourself.”

  I gasped. I grabbed for Tripp’s hand.

  Nobody could talk to Stoney like that without getting a beating.

  It was a little weird to see Stoney standing alone without Rocky next to him. The empty space actually bothered me a little. And it seemed to bother Stoney since he didn’t make a move at Tripp.

  “Tough guy,” Stoney said. “I can respect that.” He stepped forward and grabbed for Tripp’s right hand. He lifted it. “Looks like your hand took a beating.”

  “Yeah. You should have seen the other guy.”

  That must have been Tripp’s standard line to tell everyone who asked about him fighting.

  “Actually, I did,” Stoney said. “You took care of Harlan pretty good, didn’t you?”

  Tripp looked right to left, taking note of the guys surrounding him. He took his hand away from Stoney and made fists.

  “When you’re sitting on someone’s couch with a gun on your lap, what do you think is going to happen?” Tripp asked.

  “You like to fight, huh?” Stoney asked.

  “I’m good at it. It’s how I survive.”

  “And now you’re protecting sweet innocent Winter here.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  Stoney inched forward. “Under other circumstances you’d be beaten to a pulp right now. I want to make that clear. But since my club is mourning and out for blood, I’m going to play a different card with you,Tripp. Why don’t we go sit at the table and have a talk about some things.”

  “Was that an actual question or an order?” Tripp asked.

  Stoney grinned. “You don’t give a fuck about anything, do you?”

  “I’ve got nothing to lose,” Tripp said. “So what do I have to care about? I’m on borrowed time already, so, no, I don’t give a fuck about anything.”

  There were a few tense seconds while both men remained quiet.

  Stoney then turned and let Tripp walk alongside him. Nobody dared to move without orders from their President.

  I watched as Tripp walked away from me.

  In that moment, I felt completely alone, cold, and completely terrified.

  Not for Tripp.

  But for me.

  I didn’t like it when he wasn’t around me.

  9.

  (Tripp)

  I hated the idea of leaving Winter behind. It was my job to protect her, but I wanted more than that for her. Something inside me clicked and I wanted to find out who would be after her and to see if I could get her to safety. If I could find out who was after her, I could point the MC in that direction. Then I could call Aldo and see what he wanted me to do next.

  Probably eat a bullet.

  Inside the clubhouse, it was like a movie when someone enters and everything stops. When you hear the scratch of a record needle, a stray cough, and a thousand eyes beating upon you.

  They were all alike. Wide shoulders, messy hair, drunk faces, anger in their eyes. Jeans with black leather cuts donning the Red Aces MC logo on their breasts and backs. They all stared at me like I didn’t belong, which I damn well didn’t. I wasn’t a biker. I wasn’t a mobster or gangster or anything. I lived on my own. I functioned with the notion that it was my heart on the line everyday and nothing else mattered.

  “Want a beer?” the President of Red Aces asked me.

  “I’m good,” I said.

  “Fucking pussy,” someone muttered.

  I turned, left hand balled up. I tried throwing the fist and the President was there to hook his arm into mine. He spun me around so we were facing each other.

  “I’ll let it slide what happened with Harlan,” the President said, showing his teeth like a rabid dog. “But you’re not coming into my fucking clubhouse and throwing punches at my fucking guys. Understood?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Good.”

  He broke away and walked me to a door. He opened and I stepped inside. It was a long and narrow room. There was a large, dark wood table in the center with ten chairs, four on each side and one at the ends of the table. In the center was a carved skull and the Red Aces name on it. There was a desk in a corner with filing cabinets. No windows in the room. It had the lingering smell of body odor, leather, booze, and smoke.

  “This is where we come to pray.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Tripp, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m Stoney.”

  He offered his hand. I shook it.

  “I’m the President of the Red Aces MC,” he said. “And you’re walking a fine line right now.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You don’t understand what you’re involved with.”

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  “Sit down.”

  Stoney took a seat at the head of the table and kicked out a chair. I sat down, feeling real damn uncomfortable in the room.

  “Know who used to sit there?” Stoney asked me.

  “No clue.”

  “Rocky. My VP. Winter was his old lady.”

  “The guy who was shot and killed,” I said.

  “Exactly.” Stoney folded his hands and leaned forward. “He was taken out in a real shit way, Tripp. I fear for Winter’s life.”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  “You’re going to do battle
with MCs at war?”

  “It was another club that killed Rocky?”

  “He always stuck his nose where it didn’t belong,” Stoney said. “I always knew it would catch him in the ass. I loved him like a brother though. It doesn’t make sense though. I mean, it does, because of Rocky’s personality, but the timing. None of it makes sense.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I was curious to meet you, Tripp. That’s why. I heard you’re a prized fighter fallen from grace.”

  “Not sure I’d value myself all that much.”

  “You’re serving a punishment by doing this,” Stoney said with a sly grin. “So your death, if it should happen, wouldn’t be a great loss.”

  “Agreed. But I’m wondering why your MC can’t protect Winter. And better yet, what is she being protected for?”

  “How about common courtesy?” Stoney asked.

  “You don’t look the part for courtesy.”

  “And you don’t look the part of a fighter.”

  “Want to try me?” I offered.

  Stoney laughed. “Offering to take on the President of a MC is a dangerous proclamation. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “Then I’ll say it louder.”

  Stoney gritted his teeth. “Let me put it this way, Tripp. If my guys are poking around Winter, you stay the fuck back. There should have been better communication with Harlan, I’ll give you that. But that cannot and will not ever happen again.”

  “I can’t promise anything.”

  “So you like to fight that much?”

  “Never said that. But if I need to fight to survive…”

  Stoney slapped his hand to the table. “Tell you what. Why not join the MC in a little entertainment? Maybe you and Harlan can square things up the right way. You know?”

  “You want me to fight Harlan?”

  “I’m offering you a chance to get a little closer to the MC,” Stoney said. “After all, we’re all in this together, right? Someone is going to have to take care of Winter short term and long term. It’s only a matter of time before you’re gone, right Tripp?”

  His words were cool but intensely threatening. I knew how to play cool though. I once had my best friend die in my fucking hands. Trust me, I knew how to play cool.

  “That’s fine by me,” I said. “I’d like to know everything you know so far. And what I can do to help. If someone is coming for Winter, I want to be ready.”