Page 65 of Tripp

What?

I pulled back so I could see her whole face. I needed her to really hear me, to understand that she wasn’t responsible for any of what I’d chosen to do.

“You didn’t make me do anything. I made that decision. More so for me than for you.” Her frown showcased her confusion. “When I realized he’d never leave you in peace, it gutted me. To know that you could be snatched away from me at any given moment terrified me. And the only way to extinguish that worry was to snuff out the threat. So when I got the call from my brother, I seized the opportunity and ended it. Ended him.”

Silence stretched between us, the slightly uncomfortable kind that was mixed with realization of our new reality.

I’d killed someone who had meant something to her at some point in her life, even though he turned out to be her worst mistake—her words, not mine.

When I couldn’t take the quiet any longer, I asked, “What are you thinking?”

Reece moved the few feet toward the edge of the bed and swung her legs over, sitting upright next to me. She hung her head, her hair covering the side of her face. Gripping the edge of the mattress, she crossed her legs at the ankles. Her nakedness distracted me for a split second, memories of burying myself inside her enough to make my dick start to harden. Then she finally spoke, pulling all my attention back to the topic at hand.

“I’m not sure,” she confessed. “On one hand I’m relieved that Rick will no longer come after me.” She raised her head and looked at me. “I’ll never be able to repay you for making me feel safe, Tripp. For the first time in my life . . . I feel free.”

“But. . . .” I knew there was a ‘but’ in there somewhere.

Tears pooled behind her eyes. “But you killed him.”

“Yeah, I did.” A pain rippled through my chest, my breathing strangled and debilitating me while she continued to lock me in her gaze. I silently pleaded with her not to leave me because of a decision I felt I needed to execute—every fuckin’ pun intended.

“I’m glad he’s dead,” she whispered, averting her eyes while lowering her head. “Does that make me a bad person?”

I gripped her thigh, my desire to touch her mixed with the need to gain her approval for what I’d done. “Does it make me a bad person that I killed him?”

“Yes.” My heart sank. “No.” A faint tremor of hope appeared. “I . . . I don’t know.”

This shit was all new to her, but unfortunately for me, it wasn’t. Reece wrapped the sheet around her and stood, walking across the room and only coming to a stop when she’d reached the bedroom door. “I need some time to think,” she said, clutching the sheet tighter before walking away from me.

Reece

For an entire week, I’d successfully avoided Tripp. He’d given me the time and space I wanted without complaint. He refused to budge when I’d suggested staying somewhere else. Instead, he said he’d stay at the clubhouse until I decided to talk to him again. He understood why I needed to think about what’d happened, but the truth was that him killing Rick was only part of the reason why I needed to be alone.

The other reason was so I could wrap my head around the fact that his child was growing inside me, and I had no idea how he’d feel about that. His reaction to Rachel showing up and claiming he was the father of his child had set him off. Understandably, he was upset because he knew she was lying. Add in the mix that she’d cheated on him and it was a recipe for disaster when they saw each other again. But how much of his anger was because he thought for a brief moment that the baby was actually his? Did he even want kids? Would he react in a similar manner when I told him my news?

I could move past him killing Rick. I really could, even though it scared me that he’d taken a life. And while such a thing should terrify me, I hadn’t been completely shocked. I may have been somewhat sheltered, all due to Rick’s overbearing and suffocating ways, but I wasn’t stupid.

Tripp was part of the Knights Corruption. They hadn’t always been choir boys. Okay . . . ‘choir boys’ was a bit of a stretch, but my point was made. The men were intense, Tripp being no exception, but their love for their families overshadowed any wrongdoings that had been committed. Naïve? Maybe, but I’d had the opportunity to really get to know Tripp, and what I knew was that . . .

I loved him.

Unequivocally.

Even before he’d expressed his feelings for me, I knew I’d fallen for him. The way he’d treated me, the way he’d made it his mission to keep me safe, the way he’d smile at me, touch me, kiss me—it all proved he loved me well before he’d uttered the words.

After another restless night’s sleep, I’d finally decided to talk to Tripp and tell him everything.

I paced around the kitchen, glancing up at the clock for the millionth time that evening. How was I gonna broach the topic? Would I just blurt out, “I’m pregnant?” or would I beat around the bush, never quite finding the right words? What would happen if he didn’t want the baby? If he no longer wanted me? I tried to put myself in his shoes, but I couldn’t see past my own fears and paranoia. Our relationship was still new, and although we were learning more about each other every day, to introduce a baby now could destroy what we’d been trying to nurture.

My hand rested on my belly. I wasn’t showing yet. I’d suspected I was pregnant the night Tripp told me everything, but I needed to see a doctor to confirm what the three store-bought tests revealed. The doctor said I was around eight weeks, and when I’d done my calculations, I figured it had happened when we had sex in the shower, the only time we hadn’t used protection. We’d had discussions about birth control, both of us wanting to stop using condoms, but my body had always had a negative reaction to the pill. Funny thing was I’d made an appointment with a gynecologist to discuss other options. That appointment was set for the following week. I guessed there was no need to keep it anymore.

The roar of a motorcycle cut through my thoughts, increasing my anxiety over how our conversation would go. If Tripp decided that he wanted no part of the baby, or me going forward, then I’d walk away and raise him or her on my own. I knew it would be hard, and my heart would be broken, but my love for my unborn child was already growing deeper with each day that passed.

Taking a few deep breaths, I turned the handle of the front door, opening it up as Tripp walked up the front steps. I stepped back to allow him to enter, and as soon as he walked past me I knew I’d be more than heartbroken if he decided he didn’t want to be a father. I’d be devastated. Seeing him again only drove home how much I loved him.

He headed toward the living room, choosing to stand near the couch instead of taking a seat. “Why did you want to see me?” His question was straightforward, a small bout of hesitation wafting off him. He was nervous.Join the club.

My eyes raked over him as he stood in front of me. His dark hair was disheveled, and three-day-old stubble prickled his jawline. He looked tired, but he had also never looked more beautiful. Odd word to describe a man like Tripp, but it was the God’s honest truth. He was beautiful, inside and out. The rustle of his leather cut was a most welcome sound, and I had to remind myself to stop ogling him and get straight to it.

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