“Fucking hell,” I said. “You’re with the MC?”
“Yeah. Didn’t… whoever sent you tell you that?”
“No. I didn’t get much of anything. Other than you’re a widow and I have to make sure you don’t end up dead.”
Winter sucked in a breath. “Wow. That’s bold.”
“Sorry, darling. That’s how I work. So who is out to kill you?”
Winter blinked fast. “Uh, well, I… I’m not sure.”
“That helps. You shouldn’t even be in this area right now.”
“That’s why you’re here, right?”
“Bullshit,” I said. “If it were up to me, you’d be out of here right now. When does your shift here end?”
“I’m not really on the clock,” Winter said. “I just had to get away from it all.” She leaned across the table to whisper. “All they do is drink and talk about revenge. Then they look at me funny, you know? Like maybe I’m the problem. Or maybe they all want to fuck me, since I’m free game now. The sad thing is… if one of them wanted to… I probably would. Out of necessity.”
A weak smile flickered across her face and faded. I noticed when she spoke she had the smallest of gaps between her front two teeth. For whatever reason, it drove me goddamn wild. I balled my hands into fists.
“That’s not going to happen,” I said. “You’re not fucking anyone while I’m protecting you. What I need you to do is show me where you live and tell me everything you know.”
Winter pointed to my fists. “What happened to your hands?”
I looked at the roughed up scabs. I flexed my knuckles a few times. “A fight.”
“I noticed your face and jaw looked swollen.”
I stood up. “You should’ve seen the other guy. Let’s move.”
Winter pushed from the table. She stood up. I moved closer to her, realizing that she barely came up to my chest. So much shorter than me. Her heart obviously broken. In need of protection. Somewhere inside her, desperate to have the touch of a man.
Fuck. I was in big trouble. Aldo should have just shot me in the head.
6.
(Winter)
He smelled like a man, looked like a man, and threatened every desire my body had. His shoulders pressed hard against his shirt, his arms filling the short sleeves with ease. He was rough, tough, maybe even a little dirty, but not like the guys in the Red Aces. They were designed to look the way they did. Wearing leather cuts, patches that had different meanings and positions.
Not Tripp.
He looked bold and reckless.
Just what I needed.
I led the way out of the back of the coffeehouse, feeling him just inches behind me. A few times, I wondered what would happen if I just stopped walking. If he’d crash into me, his hands at my hips.
Shit.
I side stepped and waited for Tripp to walk at my side. I pointed to the garage.
“That’s my palace.”
“Bigger than mine,” he said. “You don’t feel more protected at the clubhouse?”
“I didn’t say that,” I said. “I just don’t want to be there. All they do is talk. Trying to think of every person that ever did anything wrong to them. Trying to drag my past into it all.”
“What’s wrong with your past?”
I slipped a key into the door and unlocked it. “Doesn’t matter.”
I turned the doorknob and Trip put his hand to mine and squeezed. I looked up at him. His eyes were a dark, wild brown color. His face had a little scruff on it. He was a complete and total bad ass looking man.
“It does matter,” he said. “I’ve never done this before, darling. I’m a fighter, okay? My job is to beat the shit out of someone and earn money. I’m not meant to do this protection stuff. It’s not just your life on the line here. Got it?”
I slowly nodded. “Fair enough. Then I guess I’ll have to be an open book.”
Tripp took his hand away. I opened the door and we went inside.
I flicked on the light and screamed.
At first all I saw was a guy sitting on the arm of the couch, a gun on his lap.
Then I felt someone push me.
I went flying to the left, hitting a wall, a wild pain jolting through my shoulder and arm. My eyes filled with tears.
I saw Tripp lunge forward, fist ready.
Before I could do anything, Tripp attacked.
The guy on the couch was Harlan. But Tripp didn’t know that. He tackled Harlan over the back of the couch. Harlan’s gun fell to the floor, which was probably a good thing. I heard the sound of punches being exchanged and then the men were both standing.
“Stop!” I yelled.
Harlan and Tripp faced each other. Harlan was in his leather cut, fists balled tight. But he didn’t protect himself. I thought about what Tripp had said.
I’m a fighter…
Tripp had his fists up and moved in. The punches were fast, hard, and effective. A punch to the face sent Harlan’s head snapping back. Then punch, punch to the ribs and Harlan let out a groan. He leaned forward and Tripp cocked back another fist.
It was kind of sexy to see Tripp moving like that. He was absolutely gorgeous.
But I couldn’t let him kill Harlan.