Page 25 of Tripp

“He lied. Whatever that fucker said . . . he lied.” Stone’s temper rose, but he kept it under control. “What did he say?” he pressed while clenching his fists.

“He said that the war started because he raped Marek’s mother. That the Reapers and the Knights went to war because he raped her . . . and knocked her up.”

“Fuck!” Jagger and Stone yelled at the same time, looking over at Marek to see if he heard what I’d just told them. But he didn’t, still lost in his own world, which was probably for the best right then. At least until we got the hell out of there.

“That’s not the worst part,” I continued, running my hands through my hair as a stall tactic.

He hit my shoulder in frustration. “Out with it, nomad.” Stone and I didn’t have the best relationship, but it had been getting better over the past year. And if I didn’t want to go back to him constantly giving me shit every time he saw me, and meaning it, then I better just spill the rest of what happened so we could all move on and deal with it. No matter the consequences.

“Psych indicated that he was Marek’s father and asked Marek how he liked fucking his sister.” I let the words linger in the air between us, allowing them the time to process what I’d just said. It didn’t take long at all, their reactions mirroring what I’d gone through when it was being said for the first time.

“Is it true?” Jagger asked, staggering back a step before bracing himself.

“I don’t think so,” I answered.

“But it could be. Holy shit,” Stone said, lowering his voice. “It could be.”

“How do we find out if he was lyin’?” My question swirled around all three of us, waiting for someone to come up with a plan to either put Marek out of his misery or drive him further into it.

“Fuck if I know,” Jagger muttered. His dark blond hair, which was normally strategically styled, was all over the place, looking more like Marek than I cared to admit. After telling them the reason for their leader’s meltdown, Jagger tugged at his strands, practically ripping out chunks because he didn’t know what else to do with his hands. He couldn’t punch the wall; he needed them for his fights, his way of earning for the club.

Stone’s eyes widened for a brief moment before he walked across the room and pulled open a drawer. Slamming it closed he looked inside another, then another before he found what he was looking for. With a baggie in hand, he grabbed a cloth from the rolling cart and closed in on Psych. Running the fabric down the dead man’s chest, Stone tossed it in the baggie. Then he ripped out a chunk of hair from Psych’s head, throwing that into the same baggie.

Heading back our way, he showed me the bag and said, “I’ll have Addy contact someone and rush the DNA sample. Now all I have to do is convince Marek. He might fight me on it because of his fear that it could be true.”

“Can you blame the guy?” I asked.

“Nope.” That was all he said before we all dispersed.

Reece

Groggily wiping the sleep from my eyes, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Tripp’s bed. Resting my feet on the cool floor, I inhaled the moment and tried my best to take in my new predicament. Not only the room where I’d spent the night, but that I was now jobless. Jobless and essentially held captive. Okay, held captive might’ve been a bit strong of a sentiment, but it was kind of on point. Sort of.

While I sat on the edge of the bed, I recalled my phone call with Carla the night before, choosing to focus on certain parts of our conversation more than others. For instance, when she’d told me, “I’ve known Tripp for some time now and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he was looking at you tonight.”Why did the recollection of her telling me that cause a flutter in my belly? Being careless in the past had led to some of the worst decisions I’d ever made, essentially endangering my life, and it was precisely why I needed to keep my head straight. No matter how attracted I was to Tripp.

Deciding I needed a shower to wake me up, I shuffled across the room with my head hung low and swung open the bedroom door, running right into a naked, muscular chest. Quick hands reached out and grabbed me as I stumbled backward, righting me before I ended up on the floor.

“Jesus Christ, woman!” Tripp exclaimed, his fingers still wrapped tightly around my upper arms. The heat from his touch instantly warmed me. No, scratch that—his touch enflamed me, torched me from the inside. So hot I thought for sure he’d snatch his hands back from the burn. My belly fluttered like it had once before while my heart beat furiously inside my chest. Licking my lips, I broke free from him and retreated, which was a mistake because I could see more of him. But distance was most definitely needed; otherwise, I feared I’d allow my hormones to take over and literally throw myself at him. Try and climb his massive, sculpted form.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, trying like hell to avert my eyes from the practically naked man standing in front of me.

“No, I’m sorry if I scared you. I saw the door was closed and didn’t wanna wake you. Although, come to think of it, it’s almost noon.” He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you normally sleep in this late?”

I heard him speak but his words jumbled together. As if in some kind of trance, my eyes trailed over his body, devouring the sight of his rigid, cut muscles, the V of his abdomen disappearing behind the white towel wrapped around his waist.

When my gaze moved upward, trailing over his arms still crossed and muscles popping, I saw him lick his full lips. His smile intensified, and it wasn’t until I finally looked him in the eye that I saw the glint of amusement. His short dark hair was wet, a few water droplets dripping off the tips and running down his neck.

“Like I said before, you can hit on me anytime.” Dropping his arms to his sides, he brushed past me and walked toward his closet. I tried but I couldn’t seem to peel my eyes away from him. The way he walked was mesmerizing, his gait confident and authoritative. Before I could even think to apologize for leering at him, his towel fell to the floor without warning. And there before me was the sight of his naked ass. His glorious, tight, round and muscular ass. I knew if I didn’t turn around in the next second he was gonna ruin me for all other men going forward.

“You still there?” His voice rumbled through the air and startled me, but it was exactly what I needed to regain some of the composure I’d lost when he’d dropped his towel.

I flipped around to give him some privacy. “Um . . . yeah. Sorry. I was . . . just shocked.” I could hear the rustle of his jeans as he pulled them over his thighs, followed by the zipper and finally the clank of his belt buckle as he finished dressing.

“You can turn around now, sweetheart. I’m decent.” He chuckled, the deep timber of his laugh making me clench my thighs together. It was obvious he loved getting a rise out of me. Was I that easy to rile up? Apparently so.

“Sorry,” I repeated, sheepishly grinning to try and hide my embarrassment. I hated how he could fluster me so easily.

“Am I that awful to look at?” he teased, stepping closer until he was only a few feet from me. His eyes stayed pinned to mine, and the lazy way the corners of his mouth curved up was probably the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

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