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.
It made me throb in a way it shouldn’t have.
My hands eased down to her arms and I started to rub, anything to settle her emotions and pain.