Page 40 of Tripp

To lighten the mood, I decided on a lighter topic. “Where did you get your nickname from?”

“Well, if you must know,” he says, licking his lips, “girls were always tripping over themselves to get my attention. Hence the name Tripp.” He stopped talking and just stared at me, and it wasn’t until he grinned that I realized he was just messing with me. Although I had no doubt that women did trip over themselves to gain his interest.

“Nice one.” I laughed.

“Seriously, though, I was quite the clumsy fucker when I was younger. I was always trippin’ over my own damn feet. Always fallin’ and breakin’ somethin’. My dad was the one who gave me the nickname.” His eyes darkened for a brief moment, no doubt at the recollection of his father. Before I could inquire, however, his mood switched back to one of lightheartedness.

“Ready for round two?” He turned his head toward me and captured my lips. I was sore but definitely up for some more of what he was offering.

“I guess so,” I answered, rolling my eyes on purpose as if his request was an inconvenience. He flipped me on my stomach and slapped my ass, but as soon as his hands parted my legs, his cell rang.

“Dammit!”

“Do you have to get it?”

“Yeah. Shit’s not good right now, and it could be important.”

Hopping off the bed, he snatched his phone from the end table and strode toward the hall, returning a minute later. He looked pissed while he quickly dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. “Look, I have to get goin’, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Can I ask what it is you have to do?”

“You can, but that doesn’t mean I can tell you.”

I shrank back on the bed, annoyed by his statement. I’d dealt with secretiveness before and it only led to bad things.

Seeing the look on my face, Tripp laced his fingers with mine and tried to make me feel better. “Listen, Reece, when it comes to the club I won’t be able to tell you about a lot of stuff that goes on. I hope you can understand.”

“I do,” I lied. What else was I gonna say? Demand he tell me everything? We’d only slept together one time, and while I wanted nothing more than to claim Tripp as my man, the truth was we still didn’t know each other all that well.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning over to give me a parting kiss.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” His questioning gaze comforted me.

I nodded that time, pressing my lips to his before he rose from the bed.

“I’ll set the alarm before I go.”

“Hurry back.” I pouted, disappointed he had to leave so soon after we’d been together. He shot me his sexy grin and winked before disappearing from the room, the close of the front door signifying when he’d left the house.

Lying back against the headboard, I couldn’t stop my heart from racing to keep up with the adrenaline and giddiness I felt. I knew we’d only just met, but whatever was happening between us was exciting. The sexual chemistry was off the charts, but more than my attraction toward him, I felt safe, which was something completely new for me.

For the next twenty minutes I lost myself to thoughts of the man who’d just left my bed, and what’d we’d be doing as soon as he returned. Then a sudden noise from downstairs drew my attention. At first I thought I heard something hit against the front door, but then I couldn’t be sure. Sitting up in bed, I strained to listen for any signs that Tripp had returned. When all was silent, I laid back on the bed only to jump to my feet when the alarm shrieked through the air. Wrapping the sheet around me, I raced toward the top of the steps, the front door wide open below.

I didn’t hear anything over the piercing sound. I should’ve locked myself in the bedroom, but instead I slowly descended the stairs and cautiously peered around the room. After shutting the door, I punched in the code and the alarm finally silenced. I checked out all of the rooms. No one else was in the house, but that realization didn’t stop my heart from pounding against my chest so rapidly I feared having a heart attack right where I stood.

Tripp

When I’d walked into the clubhouse, Trigger, Ryder and Jagger were crowded around the door to Chambers, talking quietly while they glanced over at Marek every now and again, who was subsequently slumped over the bar. I knew exactly what’d they’d been discussing. The possible relation between Marek and Sully seemed like the only topic we talked about when together.

When Stone ripped out a chunk of Psych’s hair and swiped his blood on a piece of cloth, he did so when Marek was in the middle of his break with reality. It wasn’t until the next day that he revealed to his best friend and leader just what he had planned. At first Marek refused, but after a little coaxing he relented, realizing it was better to know either way than to continue to torture himself. He’d given Stone some of his hair as the final step.

“What the hell are we gonna do with him?” Jagger asked, pacing in front of us like he was the only one put out by the new state of our president. “He can’t go on like this.”

“We know,” Ryder barked, glaring at the rest of us as if we were the cause of the new shit storm.

“Calm down. We don’t need to deal with your pissy mood on top of everything else.” Trigger gave Ryder a look before turning his attention to me. “Where are we with the results for that fuckin’ test?”

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