Fight Page 5

  Stoney waved a hand. “Nothing to worry about. Anyone steps foot in this town, we’ll have them. My guys are everywhere.”

  “Drunk at the bar?”

  “That’s only some. We work in shifts.” Stoney stood up. “I’ll organize a little gathering. The MC could use some cash. Now, can I trust you to knock Harlan out again?”

  Stoney smiled and winked.

  “You’re going to bet against your own member to win cash?” I asked.

  “Hey,” Stoney said. “I go where the business is.” He then grabbed my wrist and lifted my right hand. “Then again, this is too fresh on your knuckles. This isn’t from skin and bones, Tripp.” Stoney’s eyes locked with mine. “This is from punching a wall. Stone wall, right? What happened? Winter shake that little ass of hers too close? You fucking see those tits yet, Tripp? My fucking God… they could make a blind man hard…”

  I felt my left hand tightening up into a ball. I wanted to attack. I wanted to rip this guy’s throat out.

  But I held off. Showing restraint was definitely not my strong suit, but I managed.

  “I’m here to protect her,” I said. “Nothing else.”

  I walked to the door and Stoney whistled for me.

  I paused, looking back at him.

  “Watch yourself, Tripp. Aldo and I go back a long time. The Red Aces have ties you can’t imagine. I know why you’re here. I know what happened. I know how fragile your life actually is. You get too close. You poke around.” Stoney nodded to Rocky’s empty chair.

  A silent warning.

  I left the room and felt a chill run through my body.

  If I was a detective or a betting man, my suspicion was really fucked.

  I started to believe the MC took out their own guy.

  ~

  I thought about holding Winter’s hand. Then I thought about driving the car off the road. There was no way in hell I could hold her damn hand. Even if she was shaking. Even if she kept turning her head to hide the fact that there were tears in her eyes.

  It didn’t matter.

  The lines were pretty clear now.

  Something about the Red Aces MC stuck with me. Maybe not the entire club, but the President was a piece of shit.

  Then again, I knew nothing of Winter and what she was hiding. For all I knew, she and Rocky were involved with something or someone and it came back to bite them in the ass.

  “I’m going to ask something,” I finally said. “I’m the one protecting you and you cannot fuck with me.”

  “Okay,” Winter said weakly.

  “Did you have anything to do with Rocky’s death?”

  There was silence.

  Winter looked at me. “Directly or indirectly?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “You think I killed him?”

  “Answer my question.”

  “What did Stoney say to you?”

  “He made it pretty clear about something,” I said. “He seemed to describe you perfectly.”

  Yeah, maybe I was testing Winter a little. Pushing her away from me, pushing her out of her comfort zone. She moved away from me, pushing against the car door. I thought she was going to try and bolt.

  “He described me,” she said. “They all could. They all looked at me. Because of who I was.”

  “Was?”

  Winter stared forward. Her cheeks flushed. “Fine. I was a stripper, Tripp, okay? That’s how I met Rocky. That’s how I met the MC. I was a stripper.”

  Now I was the one in shock.

  Winter seemed too taken back and shy to take off her clothes. My eyes instantly moved up and down her body. My hands gripped tighter on the wheel. Thankfully we were on a straight road with no traffic, but I was playing a dangerous game by not paying attention to the road.

  But… fuck the road.

  I couldn’t stop picturing it now.

  I had seen Winter in a towel already. The way her cleavage poured from the towel. Her hips pressing to the sides. The curve of her ass. Fuck, the way her hair was curly when wet.

  And the whole MC was able to see that? They all paid for that?

  Fuck me, I was completely jealous of everyone who ever saw Winter.

  “I see you looking at me now,” she whispered. “Just like they all do. Is that what you want then? You think it’s unfair? You want to see me naked, Tripp?”

  Yes. Yes, I fucking do.

  I swallowed hard.

  Winter grabbed the bottom of her shirt and lifted. I saw her bare stomach, a little roll of skin, hiding her belly button, driving me goddamn mad, because it meant she wasn’t obsessed with being supermodel thin or some fake bullshit.

  I caught sight of her bra, her fingers going under her bra, and I grabbed for her wrist.

  “Fucking stop!” I growled. “Christ.”

  Winter put her shirt back down. She looked at me, her eyes glistening. “And to answer your question, I don’t know. I don’t know what me and Rocky were involved with or could have been involved with, okay?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I don’t know,” Winter said. “There was always something happening. Someone trying to come after the MC. They’d meet with other bikers, they’d meet with gangsters, they’d meet with men in suits.”

  “What about you?” I asked. “What about your past?”

  Winter fell silent.

  So I hit the nail on the damn head.

  Something from her past was creeping forward. Christ, maybe it had nothing to do with the Red Aces MC and that’s why Aldo sent me here.

  I gripped the wheel even tighter, my mind making it impossible not to think about Winter naked. I shouldn’t have asked, poked, pried, or cared. That’s why I pushed her away last night, right? I just needed to keep her alive until Aldo called me to come back.

  I didn’t speak to her for the rest of the ride back to her place.

  When we got there, she hurried out of the car and ran to the door.

  I watched her open the door and go inside.

  That’s when I hurried after.

  She opened the door without her key. And the door was supposed to be locked.

  10.

  (Winter)

  I didn’t use my key.

  That thought processed in my mind a second before I saw the place. The couch flipped over. The dining room table the same. Everything was touched, moved, some items broken.

  Tripp flew up behind me. I turned just as he was there, his hands scooping me up. Maybe he expected to find someone in the place, but there wasn’t. It was just a clear message sent directly at me.

  Tripp lifted me up, carried me a few steps, and then put me back down. He let me go and jumped back. His eyes scanned the room.

  “Shit,” he said. “You shouldn’t have come in here.”

  “What? It’s my house.”

  “The door was unlocked. It’s a set up.”

  “Nobody is here. I’m fine.”

  Tripp gritted his teeth. He took out his gun and told me to stay near the front door and not to touch anything. I really wasn’t in any position to argue with him.

  I watched Tripp walk through my house. He was unbelievably sexy with the way he moved, the way he held the gun, the instinctive look in his eye that screamed for survival. I trusted him more than I trusted anyone in the MC.

  Tripp emerged from the bathroom and went into my bedroom.

  It was the first time he’d been in there.

  I bit my lip thinking about the way I put myself out there with him when I was drunk.

  Typical Winter, right?

  Tripp came out of my bedroom, shaking his head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Whoever did this kept it right here. Nothing is missing?”

  “Not that I can tell,” I said. “Not that I have a secret safe full of diamonds or something.”

  “No secret safe. Just secrets.”

  Tripp tucked his gun and walked to the kitchen window and looked out. He then opened
the fridge and kept poking around the apartment. He fixed the couch and checked under the cushions. I fixed the dining room table and grabbed paper towels to clean up the mess on the floor.

  We moved in silence until I stopped and looked up at Tripp, towering over me as I was on my knees. His hands balled into fists. His knuckles ripped up. Muscles rippling from his wrist up to where his arms pressed tight against his shirt.

  “I’m not supposed to get involved,” he said. “I’m supposed to just protect you.”

  “So what do you want? A medal? You want me to call your boss and tell him you’re putting in overtime?”

  “Don’t get mouthy with me.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  I was challenging Tripp and I liked it. He inched closer to me. He put a hand to the table and leaned down a little.

  “Look, darling, someone wants you dead.”

  “They really tried this time,” I said. “Flipping over my used couch. I’m terrified.”

  “Yeah, keep thinking that. That’s how people get killed.”

  “Oh?” I slowly stood up. Standing, I wasn’t as tall as Tripp. But I was closer to him. Closer to that steel cut jaw. Closer to the scruff on his face. Closer to those scary brown eyes that were somehow still inviting and comforting. “How would I have gotten killed then? Tripped on something tipped over?”

  Tripp shook his head. “If you opened your door and saw this, and I wasn’t here, what would you have done?”

  I opened my mouth but stopped for a second. If I had been alone, I would have freaked out, sure. Who wouldn’t have? Would I have stayed in the house and cleaned it up so casually like I was with Tripp?

  Probably not.

  “Silence,” Tripp said. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

  He started to turn and I grabbed his arm. I pulled at him, bringing him back to me.

  Tripp stood sideways. My fingers moved up and over the natural round feel of his bicep. A muscle built off throwing punches, defending himself, hurting other people.

  Yet I still liked it. I still touched him.

  “I would have ran,” I said. “Okay? If I was alone and I came in here and the place was trashed, I would have left. I would have grabbed my keys and took off.”

  “Shit,” Tripp said.

  He shook away from me and ran to the front door. A second later, he was gone. My fingertips were tingling, wishing they were still touching Tripp’s muscle.

  I ran after him, outside and around the side of the converted garage.

  He went right to my car and stopped.

  “What is it?” I asked as I approached.

  “Ten bucks you don’t lock your car.”

  “I don’t have ten bucks,” I said. I grabbed for the door handle, knowing it wasn’t locked. What the hell did I care to lock the door? There was nothing in the car that was of value. The car itself was a piece of junk anyway.

  Tripp grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to his body. “Don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “They trashed your place to get you into your car,” Tripp said. “Any idea why?”

  I shook my head.

  Tripp gritted his teeth. “Just stand back in case I get lit up. And if I do…” Tripp took out his cell and handed it to me. “Dial 1 and just say that I’m dead. I can’t promise anything good, but it might be better than that MC.”

  “Tripp, what are you…”

  He rushed around to the driver’s door. Slowly, he opened it, wincing. It was like he was waiting for the car to blow up or something.

  Blow up.

  The car’s going to blow up!

  The car’s wired!

  I gasped and stepped back.

  Tripp was bold and brave, climbing across the front seat. Digging around, searching. He then popped the hood and moved out of the car. He went to the hood and opened it.

  “Fuck!” he yelled.

  I ran toward him. “Tripp. What is it?”

  “I told you to stay away.”

  “I don’t listen. Get used to it.”

  “Look. Right here.” He pointed to a little box. “That right there. That’s wired up to your starter. You get in the car, turn the key, and…”

  “Boom,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, boom,” he said and laughed. “Christ, darling, doesn’t it scare you?”

  “I’m numb to it all,” I said.

  Tripp wiped a line of sweat from his forehead. He backed up and slowly shut the hood.

  “What do we do?” I asked.

  “I’ll make a call. I’ll get this diffused.”

  “I thought you were a fighter,” I said. “How do you know about bombs and stuff?”

  Tripp turned and touched my shoulder. “Darling, I didn’t survive this long just by fighting. Okay? I’ve seen things. I’ve done things. Just do yourself a favor and keep away. Arm’s length, okay? I’m sorry for whatever you’re going through. I’m sorry I pushed at your past. I don’t give a shit about it. Someone is out to kill you. My only job is to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  I was hurt.

  Tripp was touching my shoulder while telling me to stay away. He was a freaking hypocrite with this.

  I wiggled away and put my hands up. “Fair enough. It’s for the better I guess. Because as of right now, you kind of suck at protecting me.”

  Tripp lunged at me. My response should have been to jump back and away from him, like I used to with Rocky. Rocky would sometimes catch me, sometimes miss me. With Tripp, I just stood there. He crashed into me and had his face inches from mine.

  “Get in my fucking car,” he said. “We’re out of here.”

  “We’re out of here? What the hell does that mean?”

  Tripp didn’t respond. He just started walking. He took me with him, turning me around, basically dragging me to his car. I didn’t fight him off though. It was almost comforting to know I wasn’t going back inside that house again.

  Then again, where the hell was I going?

  11.

  (Tripp)

  I had hideouts. We all had hideouts. It was just part of the life and the gig. This one wasn’t paid for out of my pocket, but by Aldo. He gave me a key to the apartment a long time ago, telling me that if shit ever got bad enough and I needed a night away, use it. To be honest, I figured there was no chance in hell the key would actually work. After all, it was a beachfront motel, not an apartment complex.

  The damn key worked.

  It slid right in and turned, the lock clicking open.

  The room was cramped, but it smelled clean enough. There was only one bed, a nightstand on each side with a lamp on each nightstand. A dresser with a mirror, a small television on the corner of it. There was a closet, a bathroom, and one of the corners served as some kind of kitchenette. The best part was the small balcony that overlooked the ocean. The sight, the sound, that was my favorite thing in the world. It brought me a sense of freedom. A sense of hope.

  None of that shit I could let Winter know about though.

  I shut the door and locked it.

  I had a bag of my clothes. Winter had a bag of her clothes.

  We barely spoke a word on the ride over, and there probably wasn’t much of a purpose to talk right now either.

  I pointed to the bed and said, “Get settled. I have to make a phone call.”

  Outside, I leaned against the railing for a minute to catch my breath. Seeing Winter’s place trashed and finding a bomb under the hood of her car really got to me. I thought I was going to be dealing with someone trying to hurt her or take her, but to not plant a bomb. And after talking to Stoney, it was all weighing on me.

  I called Aldo.

  “Tripp,” a voice said. It was one of Aldo’s thugs.

  “Where is he?”

  “Not here. Grocery shopping.”

  Cue, he’s right next to me but not going to talk to you.

  “Did you fix the car?”

  “Yeah, it’s all fixed.”

 
“Any idea what was wrong?” I asked. Who planted the bomb?

  “Eh, it’s a car. You know how it goes. They work, they break, you fix them.”

  “So you have no idea?”

  “Did you get where you had to go, Tripp?”

  “I’m here,” I said. “All is well.”

  “Good. You just stay where you are then. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Except the car breaking again,” I said. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “You do as told. You know what waits.”

  I gripped the cell phone tight and held it away from my ear for a second. I turned and saw Winter standing with the door open.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  “Take care, Tripp.”

  The call ended.

  “You didn’t sign up for this?” Winter asked.

  “What? Is that supposed to be a shock?”

  “I guess not.”

  Winter turned and stepped back into the room. She shut the door. So I stood there and grabbed the railing, facing the closed door, looking through the glass as she just kept her back to me.

  Protect her, man. Nothing else. Nothing more.

  I opened the door and went into the room.

  “Let me ask you something,” I said. “Did you sign up for all this? Is this where you expected to be? In the arms of a biker who winds up dead? Now being protected by some thug like me.”

  That’s when I saw Winter’s shoulders starting to bob.

  She was crying.

  I rolled my eyes and tried to hold back. I had no business getting closer to her and comforting her. This was her life and it was her mess to deal with.

  But I couldn’t stop myself.

  I knew the feeling. That burning deep inside when you’re completely alone and have nothing or nobody. Nights I’d sit on the edge of my bed, listening to the ocean, drinking a warm beer, and I’d stare at my phone, begging for it to ring and have Aldo be on the other line with a fight for me. Just so I could feel wanted. Of use. To grasp at anything that resembled a purpose.

  I touched Winter’s shoulders. I pulled at her, letting her rest against my chest. My chin rested easily against the top of her head. I could smell her hair. The faint fragrance of shampoo mixed with dried sweat.