Fight(10)

“I don’t know. I was never invited.”

“That’s a good thing,” I said.

We drove back to Winter’s place in silence.

I went inside first, gun drawn, and did a quick check of the rooms. I had no clue what to do to protect her other than follow my gut and try to mimic things I’d seen in movies.

We sat, ate, and drank.

Not quite a dream meal or a dream evening, but it was something. And the beer was cold and good. I watched Winter’s eyes following my knuckles each time I lifted and lowered my food and my beer bottle.

It took me four beers to finally start to open up a little.

“I fought a guy called Killer Kidd,” I said. “That’s where the wounds came from.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“It’s an underground thing. It’s all I’ve ever known to survive. Okay? I train, I fight, I earn money.”

“So you win all the fights?” Winter asked.

I gritted my teeth. I felt like a jackass not being able to admit why I was actually there with her. Not because I was a winner, but because I was a loser.

“I survive,” I said. “That’s all that matters.”

“I know the feeling,” Winter said.

“Yeah? Then tell me about all this. How’d you end up here?”

“How much time do we have to talk?” she said with a grin.

“For you, darling, I’ve got all night.”

Christ, Tripp, are you seriously flirting with her?

Winter started to smile bigger, those pretty blue eyes flirting right back at me.

I quickly stood up and grabbed the empty containers. I put them in the brown paper bag they came in and walked to the kitchen. The entire place wasn’t really that big, which meant I couldn’t get far from Winter.

I walked to the window and looked out. There was an open field behind the converted garage. Then there were lights of the town, the city, the night settling.

“What are you doing?” Winter asked.

“Just looking.”

“So what’s your plan? I mean, this doesn’t make sense to me either.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Why you’re here. I don’t understand why the club can’t protect me. Or why they can’t just send me somewhere. Or… if someone really wants me dead that bad, why even bother protecting me?”

I slowly turned. “That’s how you value your life?”

“How do you value yours, Tripp?”

“This isn’t about me. I’m asking you a question.”

“I don’t know how I value anything.”

“You’re just upset,” I said. “Mourning. That’s normal. And for the record, the guy who sent me here is more powerful than anything you could possibly imagine. The MC might be rough and tough bullies who control what they want, but the guy I work for controls everything. It’s organized. And it all looks legit.”

“So?”

“Point is, darling, if this guy wants you alive, then your life has value.”

“You know, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.”

I swallowed hard. I turned back to the window. I was better off that way. Winter was driving me crazy. Her beauty, her voice, her appeared innocence, her need to be protected, it all turned me on. It was so bad that I was actually standing there at the kitchen sink getting hard.

It took me a few minutes to calm down before I could grab another beer.

I leaned against the back of the couch. “I don’t want to rip into fresh wounds here, but do you have any idea who would kill your husband?”

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 f*ck or get f*cked.

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 f*cking 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.”