Fight (8 page)

12.

(Winter)

I lost track of the days because
they all started to blend together. The first night was the worst though. Tripp
ordered food and went to pick it up. He left his gun under the pillow on the
bed and told me to kill anyone who wasn
’
t
him.

We ate in silence. We barely
talked. I lay in the bed that night as he stood on the balcony. Part of me
wanted to wake up and find him next to me, but that didn
’
t happen. He slept on the floor.

It then became rinse and repeat.

We left the motel to walk for food,
to do laundry, and I got Tripp to break down and actually take me to the beach.
That lasted all of twenty minutes and consisted of him constantly looking
around, not enjoying himself. Yeah, we weren
’
t
there on a vacation. We were there to hide and survive. I was fully clothed,
couldn
’
t enjoy the
atmosphere. I locked myself in the bathroom after that for an hour and cried.
When I emerged, Tripp was on the balcony again, on his cell phone. One hand to
his ear, the other waving like crazy.

He was pissed.

Probably about taking care of me.

I had been nothing but a liability
from day one - not just to Tripp either.

That night I considered bolting. If
it meant stealing his car, then I would do it. I could get on the highway and
go east. As far east as I could make it before I
’
d
figure out a plan or get caught and killed.

I fell asleep with intentions of
doing just that. When I woke a few hours later, Tripp was at the door. Sitting
at the door, asleep. One leg up, a hat down over his face, his keys in his
hand. It was like he knew what I was thinking. He was fucking with me even
worse than when he talked to me and touched me.

The worst part of it all was
feeling stuck. I didn
’
t
want to go home because there was no home for me. The converted garage was
owned by the MC. It had been Rocky
’
s
place and now the MC had their hands on it. Which was fine. This wasn
’
t my dream house or dream town.
I was like a wave in the ocean; just going with the flow. Moving along, pushing
to the shore, pulling back, doing it again and again.

I was outside on the balcony
watching the water, a nice breeze blowing from the side. I begged my mind to
slip away. It started to do just that when I heard the door slide open.

Tripp then stood next to me. Black
jeans. A white shirt that seemed unfair to fit his body the way it did. For the
love of everything, I could see the ripples of his stomach when the wind pushed
the shirt tight to his body! I couldn
’
t
remember the last time I felt really turned on and really able to be pleasured.
There was a difference between coming and feeling good while coming.

We stood there for a little bit.

“
At
night,
”
Tripp said.

“
What?
”

“
That
’
s when we
’
ll go down and walk around. I promise. I know you
want to go down there right now. But I don
’
t
want to risk anything. I
’
ve
been talking to Stoney and he
’
s
had guys around the house for days. No sign.
”

“
Do
you trust him?
”

“
Do
you?
”

I smiled.
“
I don
’
t
know.
”

“
Yeah,
well, we
’
re going to be
seeing him tomorrow anyway.
”

“
Oh?
”

“
I
have to fight Harlan.
”

I heard the words and froze for a
few seconds.
“
Wait. You
have to fight Harlan?
”

“
Yeah.
When I was there the first time, he suggested it. He wants to see me fight. I
figured it would only be fair. Plus, I haven
’
t
had a fight since
…”

I saw Tripp turn his head.

I reached for his arm.
“
Hey. What happened?
”

He pulled away.
“
Nothing. It doesn
’
t really matter.
”

He started to move toward the door
and I scrambled to do anything to keep him near me. My brain ran fast.

“
Beer?
”
I called out.

“
What?
”

“
You
and me. Beer. I mean, let
’
s
get something to drink. Beer and pizza? Something to eat? It
’
s almost the end of the day
anyway, right? We can hang out, have a couple drinks, maybe talk?
”

“
Now
you want to talk?
”

“
If
it breaks up this tension,
”
I said.
“
I hate this,
Tripp. I know you don
’
t
want to be here. Neither do I. So
…
you can ask me anything.
”

“
Did
you ever fuck anyone else in the MC?
”
he asked, so quick and bold, as though it had been burning in his mind for a
while.

“
No,
”
I said.
“
I
’
m
not that kind of person, Tripp. I haven
’
t
been with
…
I
’
m not that kind of person.
”

Tripp didn
’
t make a move, didn't change his expression.
“
I have one more question.
”

“
Okay.
”

“
Plain
or pepperoni?
”

I smiled.
“
Pepperoni works for me.
”

And a side of you, Tripp.

13.

(Tripp)

I threw the crust into the box and
let out a groan. I was full. We sat on the floor, my back against the wall,
Winter across from me, legs bent, hugging her knees. There was a pizza and a
half gone and we were well into our second six pack.

“
You
can
’
t waste the crust,
”
she said.

“
Like
fuck I can
’
t,
”
I said.

“
You
must have grown up with parents and money.
”

“
You
grew up on the street?
”

“
Close
enough.
”

I took a swig of beer. Seven in and
my mind was well beyond thinking logical. The most important thing was that I
knew where the gun was. Just in case anything happened.

“
Tell
me about it,
”
I said.
“
You want to be an open book
tonight, right?
”

“
Yeah,
right,
”
Winter said.
“
I don
’
t know. My father was the one who tried to raise
me. My mother left long before I could remember her. At one point my father
tried to convince me she was dead because I guess it
’
s easier to believe a parent is dead rather than
believe that they just abandoned you.
”

“
Did
that work for you?
”

“
No.
I knew the truth. My mother was this phantom and my father never let it go. He
was a drunk. He lost jobs every week. We had no electricity. Got kicked out of apartments
and houses. There were times when he
’
d
wake me up in the middle of the night and we
’
d
have to leave to avoid paying the rent.
”

“
What
happened to him?
”

“
What
makes you think something happened?
”

“
I
can see it in those blue eyes, darling,
”
I said.

Those fucking blue eyes.

They were staring right at me. They
were big, beautiful, and goddammit, they deserved something so much better than
all this happening.

“
He
was stabbed to death when I was sixteen.
”

“
Christ.
”

“
He
got involved with gambling and had some serious debts. He thought he could work
cards to make things right. He owed a lot and was killed. Then I found out he
was going to offer me as payment. My
…
innocence.
”

“
Fucking
asshole,
”
I muttered.

“
So
be it,
”
Winter said.
“
So I was on my own. I survived.
I moved around. I tried not to trust anyone. I made a friend, Angie. She was a
stripper and bartender. I started out behind the bar. Then there was a night
the owner of the club begged me to help out when he was short a girl. So I took
a few shots of whiskey and got up there. It was like one in the morning and
everyone was just throwing money around. They wouldn
’
t remember me  if they saw me the next day. I made
more that night than I did an entire month bartending.
”

“
You
don
’
t do that anymore?
”

“
No.
Not for a while. Years.
”

“
Because
of the MC?
”

“
Yeah.
Something like that.
”

We both finished our beers and I
leaned over to the small fridge and pulled it open. I grabbed two more,
assuming Winter would need one. Next time I looked at her, she was teary eyed.
I told myself I couldn
’
t
comfort her again, not when we were damn drunk.

I twisted off the cap and handed
her the beer. She took it and drank half the bottle in one big drink.

“
Feel
better?
”
I asked.

“
Hardly,
”
she said. She then put her left
foot forward and kicked at my foot.
“
Tell
me your story, Tripp.
”

“
Why?
”

“
Because
I want to know. You
’
re
protecting me, which doesn
’
t
make sense. You owe someone favors, which doesn
’
t
seem like your style. And you
’
re
going to fight someone from the Red Aces MC for the hell of it.
”

“
First
off, there are no favors,
”
I said.
“
I
’
m supposed to be dead right now.
But that
’
s a different
story. You want to know about my life? I was forced to fight to survive.
”

“
Survive
what?
”

“
Whatever
guy that was done fucking my mother.
”

The room fell silent. I couldn
’
t believe I actually said that
to Winter, but whatever. She wanted to know the story, then I
’
d give it to her.

“
That
’
s how she survived. She
’
d fuck anyone that could bring
some food or throw her a few bucks. Trust me, it
’
s
not a sob story though, she couldn
’
t
get her life together. She had family and refused to talk to them. But me? I
was always just there. And I became a punching bag around the age of ten. I
’
ll never forget it. This fat guy
in the kitchen, digging through the fridge. Shirtless with a set of lips
tattooed above his left nipple. He turned to me and smiled.
‘
You wanna fight me, kid?
’
he asked. I shook my head. The
guy then made a fist and swung at me. He cracked me in the shoulder. It hurt.
He walked away. I never saw that guy again. But my shoulder bruised for a week.
Then it happened again with a different guy. He was bigger, stronger, and he
smacked me in the face. For no damn reason. Then another beat me. Like I was
his own kid or something. Another one pummeled me until I passed out. My mother
then told me in a drunken state that I needed to swing back. One of our
neighbors, a guy everyone called Mutt, had a punching bag in his living room.
He was an old school boxer kind of guy. Won some fights and money, then lost it
all to booze. But he knew what went on with my mother. He taught me how to
fight. I
’
d sneak out of the
apartment and go to his. He
’
d
stand there with a bottle of vodka in one hand and scream at me. Yelling what
punches to throw, how to throw them, how to set my feet for the most power. I
had long arms but they were skinny. Mutt
’
s
cousin owned a boxing gym and Mutt would take me there after school. I
’
d meet him there and I
’
d lift weights and box. I
’
d go until I puked or fell over.
Then Mutt would toss me five bucks and tell me to get as much meat as I could
with it.
”

I paused and sipped my drink. Damn,
it had been a while since I dusted off this little gem of history. I
’
ll never forget the way it all
happened. Mutt
’
s missing
front teeth. The yellow ring around his eyes. His dark skin. His boney figure.
And his rough voice.

“
Come
on, motherfucker, hit the bag. Don
’
t
be a pussy.
”

“
One
night after I was done, some guy took my five bucks. Snatched it right out of
my hand. I didn
’
t eat that
night. I was weak, tired, and everything hurt. My mother had some guy over and
it only made things worse. I swore right then I would forever fight. The next
day I got my five bucks from Mutt and I waited outside. The same damn guy came
by and tried to take my money again. You know what I did?
”

“
You
fought him and won?
”
Winter
asked, looking hopeful, like there was some white knight at the end of this
story.

“
I
broke his fucking jaw,
”
I
said.
“
And then beat him
until he passed out. I took all his money.
”

Silence again. I warned her who I
was. A thug. Never did I pick a fight that wasn
’
t
coming. But when I won, I took what I wanted.

“
It
was how I survived,
”
I
said.
“
Fight, win. Fight,
win. And when one of my mother
’
s
fuck buddies tried touching me, I broke his wrist. Another guy, I knocked two
teeth out. Anyone who came near me got their ass beat. Right down to Mutt.
”

“
You
beat up Mutt?
”

I nodded.
“
He told me I was being an asshole. Told me I needed
to control myself or I was going to end up in jail. We argued and he challenged
me to a fight. So I fought him in the ring, with gloves, and I knocked him out.
He came to and I kissed his forehead. I told him I loved him like the father I
never had. Then I left for good. I was done. Out. Gone. I hit the streets and
fought for survival. That
’
s
how I met Aldo. He promised me a shot at something real. Like I could go pro.
Get on a real circuit and earn. But that didn
’
t
happen at all. I made Aldo too much money.
”

“
So
why did you stay?
”

I didn
’
t respond. I knew why. I just didn
’
t want to talk about it.

“
You
had to stay,
”
Winter
whispered.
“
Just like being
here. You have to be here. He
’
s
got you, Tripp. Why?
”

“
I
’
m done talking,
”
I said.
“
You have the story. Back to you, darling. Think
about who would take out Rocky and want to come after you.
”

“
There
’
s so many,
”
Winter said.
“
The MC is not friendly.
”

“
But
why you?
”

“
Maybe
someone thinks I know something I
’
m
not supposed to.
”

“
Do
you?
”

Now it was Winter
’
s turn. She fell silent.

And there we sat, like a couple of
fools, hiding from each other.

Finally, I said,
“
Whatever. As long as you
’
re alive, I don
’
t give a shit.
”

“
And
if I get killed?
”
she
asked.

“
Like
I said, I
’
m supposed to be
dead. What the hell do I really care?
”

Winter put her drink down. She
leaned forward. Her palms touched the floor and she brought her legs behind
her.

Jesus Christ, she
’
s on her hands and knees
before me.

Her breasts pushed at her shirt.

She knew exactly what she was doing
and how she looked.

“
Then
if you really don
’
t care,
”
she whispered and crawled
toward me.
“
Prove it.
”

I looked to my left and saw all the
empty beer bottles next to me. I regretted each and every one of them.

I looked forward and Winter was
right there, an inch from my face.

She touched my face and curled her
lip, trying to look mean.

“
Come
on, tough guy,
”
she
whispered.
“
Try me.
”

~ ~ ~

She climbed right on top of me. Her
hands were around my neck, holding tight. Pressing those damn breasts in my
face. Even through her bra and shirt, damn, she had it all going on the right
way. She looked down at me, her hair falling forward. Her eyes, those eyes,
they were so blue and yet so seductive. I thought about all the guys who threw
money at her. Who saw her under a glittering disco ball or some cheap lighting,
all wanting their five bucks to end up somewhere naughty on her precious and
beautiful body.

What the fuck do you know, man?
She
’
s got a
past
…
she
’
s being hunted
…

Yeah, she was being hunted. And not
by whoever killed Rocky.

She was being hunted by my desires.
My cock.

I put my hands to her hips. I went
right up her shirt, just like before, and this time, hesitation was not a
problem. I cupped my hands over her bra, squeezing her breasts. She put her
head back and groaned. She leaned down against my pulsing dick and rubbed. Her
hips cocked right to left, grinding on me.

Christ, is this what she used to
do?

I felt my balls ache and tighten. I
thought for a second I was going to come. That would have been terrible. But
her hips were just so damn perfect. Curves in all the right places, she was
able to cut directions, swooping down hard, rubbing across my shaft with the
right amount of pressure, and then lifting back up.