Fight(37)

“I’m protecting them,” Stoney said. “Just like you should be protecting her. If Skull X is going after everyone involved with that kid, Winter is going to be next. Mark my word. She will be next.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No,” Stoney said. “I don’t threaten. I take action.”

Tripp took a step back and turned. It was risky to turn your back on the Red Aces MC President.

I walked alongside him as we walked back to his car. It was a quiet walk. We were both tired from last night, and I knew in both our hearts were desperate to make sense of everything that had gone wrong.

But life was never that easy.

We got into his car and he backed up.

Stoney was no longer in sight.

“This is all wrong,” Tripp said. “I just have a feeling about it. Something is going to happen.”

Before I could open my mouth, a black car pulled up behind us, blocking our way out. The passenger door flew open and a man in a suit came out.

“Ah, f*ck,” Tripp growled.

“What is it?”

He looked at me. He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Darling, listen to me. Take my car back to your place. Park it around back. Go inside, lock the doors, leave all the lights off. Just hang. For as long as you can.”

“Tripp!”

The man opened the door and got out. I turned to watch what was about to happen. Tripp showed his hands and started to say something. The big man in the suit then punched Tripp in the stomach and threw him into the side of the car. Tripp ricocheted back and the guy caught him. He opened the back door and tossed Tripp inside. He slammed the door, got back into his seat, and the car drove away.

What the f*ck just happened?





21.


(Tripp)



This was how it was going to go down. Something had gone wrong and my number was called. I shouldn’t have pushed and poked into Winter’s personal life. Now I knew too much or I did something to trigger something and I was a dead man.

I was huddled on the floor of the car, a gun pressed to the back of my head. A foot on my back. I was a bitch right now. There was no way in hell I was going out like this.

I put my hands to the floor of the car and pushed up.

“Hey, motherf*cker, stay down!”

I made a quick move, throwing my right arm up and around, grabbing the guy’s ankle. I locked, twisted, and felt a pop sound. The guy let out a scream and the gun dropped, hitting me in the back.

I got up quick, pulling him by his ankle, putting him down on the floor. That’s when I unleashed punch after goddamn punch, gut, chest, face. Gut, chest, face. Gut. Chest. Face.

My body raged with an anger that was fresh, hungry for blood. I put my left hand to his chest and held him down. My right hand came back and punched at him over and over, not giving a damn about anything.

“Jesus Fuck!” someone screamed.

I felt something touch the side of my head.

Another gun.

I turned and saw the guy that had first hit me. “You’re next.”

“Like hell I am. You need to sit down.”

I fell back to the seat, breathing heavily.

“Jesus, Emilio,” the guy said. “Are you dead?”

The guy on the floor gurgled something as his lips moved.

“We have to get him to a hospital.”

“Give it time,” I said. “Then you can just take him to the morgue.”

“You’re a crazy motherf*cker, man.”

“Where’s Aldo?” I asked.

“Waiting for you. We have to be secure about this. There’s risk.”

“There’s risk just sneaking up on me like that,” I said. “And you left Winter alone.”

“I’m not at liberty to talk,” the guy said and turned around.

The guy on the floor was wheezing now. I reached down and lifted him, grunting as I turned him.

“There,” I said. “So the blood flows out. You might survive.”

I sat back and caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. I was smiling. Smiling. Why? Because I had just beaten some guy half to death for no real reason? My smile faded. This was why Winter shouldn’t have been near me. We shouldn’t have slept together (over and over and over again). She shouldn’t have shown me pictures or anything.

I was in too deep.

Aldo probably knew it.

The car stopped and I was led into the back of a warehouse. It was some kind of storage center, no doubt a front for Aldo and his business connections. For every one legit storage unit rented, there was probably ten with bodies or stolen shit inside.

There were two men guarding the main office door. They frisked me, took my gun, and then opened the door.

And there he was.

Aldo.

Leaning against a desk, arms folded.

The office looked like any other normal office.

Aldo reached down and grabbed a picture frame from the desk. He turned it around and pointed to it. It was of a man and woman, cheek to cheek, smiling. They were on some mountain, smiling big.

“You know who this is?” Aldo asked.

“No idea,” I said.

“His name was Andrew. Worked here. Manager type. But then he kept poking at me. Got real f*cking annoying. You know where he is now?”

“One of the storage units?” I asked.