Fight(12)

“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 happening 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 f*cking 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 f*ck 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 f*ck about anything.”

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