Page 24 of Tripp

“I don’t have another choice. Not until I’m able to find something else. I need this,” I pleaded. “I need this job. Please.”

“Of course. I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank you.” After several minutes we finally ended the call, Carla promising she’d do her best to try and convince Tripp to let me stay on at Indulge until I found another job.

I should’ve been pissed. I should’ve been scared. But I was neither. Carla’s reassurance helped to ease some of the anger and panic I’d felt. I had no idea what I would have done without her. Even though I’d only known her a short time, I considered her a true friend.

Deciding not to delve too far inside my various thoughts, I deemed it best to try and distract myself by exploring Tripp’s home. If he was gonna leave me all by myself, then he should expect I’d go snooping through his things. Curiosity won out as I opened the drawer of the end table in the living room, finding nothing inside except a few motorcycle magazines and a remote for the television. Everything stacked neatly. Looking around the small living space, it was then I noticed that not one single thing was out of place. A few pillows were strategically arranged on the couch, a comfy-looking blanket thrown over the back. Not a single item littered the coffee table, or floor for that matter. Everything seemed to have its place, and the thought that Tripp was some kind of neat freak made me smile.

Wait . . . aren’t serial killers anally neat?I lost my smile for a brief moment before I laughed out loud. “Get a grip, Reece,” I mumbled to myself before heading toward the kitchen to grab some water.

Walking through the cozy cabin, I took it all in, immersing myself in Tripp’s world. A small glimpse inside the man who’d saved me. The place was small, the only rooms in the front the kitchen and living room. A large stone fireplace took up the majority of the wall, and with the way the evening had dipped into the lower digits, I imagined relaxing on the brown leather sofa while a fire warmed me.

Toward the back was a short hallway which led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. Peeking my head inside Tripp’s sanctuary, I glanced around the room and smiled. Again. What was with my lips kicking up whenever I thought about the gorgeous man who’d forced his way into my life? Taking a tentative step inside, looking behind me as if he was gonna show up out of thin air and catch me snooping, I marveled at the state of his room—neat, just like every other inch of this place. An overly large bed took up a lot of space, but seeing how big Tripp was, it made absolute sense. An end table and a five-drawer dresser were the only other pieces of furniture, a small walk-in closet tucked into the corner housing the rest of his belongings.

Glancing at the alarm clock, I saw it was late, reminding me that I was most certainly beyond tired. Raising my arms above my head, I stretched as best I could and bellowed out the loudest yawn before turning and exiting the room. Walking only a few feet I came upon the bathroom. The thought of losing myself to a hot shower suddenly seemed like the best remedy to the horrible night I’d had.

As soon as the water beat down on my body, the steam enveloping and soothing me, I relaxed and pushed all thoughts of what had happened to the back of my mind. It was what I was best at—denial, oblivion. Over the years, I’d gotten very good at shoving life way deep down. It was the only way I could survive. Old habits were certainly hard to break, and because I didn’t know any other way to cope I chose denial once more.

After my shower, I pulled Tripp’s T-shirt back over my head, inhaling his lingering scent before pulling it down to cover my body. Images of the sexy biker rushed forward, and it was all I could do not to fantasize what he would look like completely naked. Normally such thoughts never entertained me, not even when I encountered a good-looking man while working. I always tried to keep that life separate from my real one, never mixing the two worlds for fear of the uncertainty. And even though I’d only been stripping for a short while, my promise to never mingle the two worlds had proved beneficial.Until tonight.

Tripp made me feel things without even trying. I’d never come across such a man before, someone who made me question my logic and instincts. I’d drive myself insane if I gave in to the need to try and understand why I’d suddenly become obsessed with him. Why he’d done what he had for me. Why I shoved aside my inner voice and got into his truck, allowing him to take me to his place. Why I’d thought about him almost every second since he’d left.

Deciding to forgo making myself crazy, I trudged back toward his room and crawled onto his bed, laying my head gently on the pillow. I would have curled up in the guest bedroom had there been a bed, but it appeared as if it was being utilized strictly for storage, the numerous boxes stacked perfectly. Not a shocker.

As I lay there, I took a deep breath and recapped everything that’d played out that evening. I refused to focus on anything that happened before Tripp had come to my rescue. No point in frightening myself over something I couldn’t change. I strangely thought my body would refuse to succumb to sleep, that I’d unfortunately be awake for the rest of the night. But as soon as Tripp’s face appeared in my mind, I smiled and slipped into the darkness of a comforting slumber.

Tripp

“What the fuck?” Stone asked, pacing back and forth in front of Psych before moving toward his best friend and leader. “Marek. What the hell happened, brother?” was all he could ask.

But Marek never answered. Instead, he remained on the floor where I’d left him, his head still in his hands as he mumbled the same thing over and over again.

“It can’t be true. It can’t be true.”

He was slowly losing his mind, and so far I was the only one who knew why. The smell of the room had intensified over the past hour, and because no one had made a move to clean anything up, we were completely exposed to Psych’s lifeless body and all the horrible smells his dead flesh emitted.

“Why does he keep saying that?” Jagger asked after pulling me to the corner of the room. My answer didn’t come as easily as I thought it would’ve. There was a part of me that wanted to protect Marek as long as possible. Maybe if I told the others the reason he kept repeating “It can’t be true,” it would become all too real. So I stalled, trying to think of what to say. “I know you know something, Tripp. You were the only one here with him. Other than that fucker over there.” Jagger pointed toward Psych, his eyes lingering on the dead Reaper for only a few seconds before his attention was back on me. “What can’t be true?”

I waited, for what I had no idea. My lips remained sealed while my heart picked up its pace. Marek stepping back into reality and shouting for me to remain silent would have been extremely welcome at that point. But there was only silence. Even Ryder, Stone, and Trigger were quiet, whispering to each other every few minutes. All of us were contemplating the next move, but shock about the situation kept us locked into ambiguity.

Before Jagger could press me again for an answer, Stone closed in on us, his presence leaving no room for anything but the truth. “What the hell happened down here?” He looked back and forth between Jagger and me, but obviously I was the only one who could answer.

“What does it look like happened?” I whisper-shouted, doing my best to deflect from giving him—giving them all—the answers they truly wanted. “He fuckin’ lost his mind and took it out on Psych.”

Stepping closer, Stone gripped my shoulder. “Why did he all of a sudden lose his mind?” The VP of the Knights stood a couple inches shorter than me, but his domineering presence was larger than life. The stern look in his eyes told me he wasn’t gonna let up until I told him something.

Quickly contemplating what I should say, my eyes veered over to glance at Marek, hoping he’d look at me and give me some kind of signal on how to proceed. But he did nothing, continuing to mumble to himself while he shook his head back and forth.

Tightening his grip, Stone demanded I let him in on what exactly happened. Why his president was on the fuckin’ floor and actin’ like some kind of mental patient. “Tripp, I swear to fuck if you don’t tell me what happened. . . .” He didn’t need to finish his sentence because it didn’t matter what he threatened me with. I’d never let it get that far. We were dealing with enough shit as it was; there was no need to add to it.

Stepping back to give us as much privacy as possible, I blew out a breath and started talking. “When I came down here, Marek was torching him and shit. Fuck. I thought I was gonna lose my lunch from the smell. Anyway, out of the blue, Psych started talkin’ about family and why the war really started between us and them in the first place.”

“Greed and territory,” Stone interrupted. “That’s how it started.”

“Not according to Psych.”

Stone frowned, leaning against the wall while waiting for me to clear up the confusion. Jagger continued to listen, keeping his mouth shut so he could take it all in. Ryder and Trigger were across the room, crowded around Marek and trying to talk to him, to get him to snap out of whatever delirium held him captive.

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