Tripp (7 page)

Jokes? About a guy who’s already hurt her more than once? Hell no.

“Jesus, Rachel, what were you thinking? Haven’t I told you not to talk to him? He’s dangerous, and you better get that through your head before something happens to you. Think about Gracie if you refuse to think about yourself.”

I know I’ve crossed a line before the words have even finished leaving my mouth. I don’t stop. I don’t take them back—don’t pause and apologize, or try to explain I was worried—because, just like every time I need to tell her something important, my brain has stopped functioning. What comes out is so far from what I meant to say. When Katie lights into me and shoves my shoulders, calling me every name in the book—including my own real name which darkens my already black mood—I stand there with my arms crossed and take it, letting my anger go to a low simmer as I watch Rachel out of the corner of my eye.

Her head is up and the expression on her face is still scared, but now that Katie’s come to the more graphic portion of suggestions for just where I can shove my head, there’s also amusement. My fear only gets larger when I see her smile.

How can she laugh at a time like this? He found her again—just like last time. He knew where she would be,
when
, and he knew he could get to her. No matter how hard she’s trying to put on a brave face, I can see exactly how much he rattled her, which tells me he did a hell of a lot more than yell at her. Doesn’t she see the danger here?

It’s a stupid question, because I know she does. I know that when cornered, Rachel’s always going to fight. Rather than fight against her, I should be hugging her and fighting with her, praising her for standing up rather than cowering back…. Instead, I ran out like a demon of Hell and shook her, yelled at her, then hit below the waist when I asked her to at least think of Gracie. Christ, no wonder Katie wants to chop my balls off.

I slide my eyes to Rachel again as she steps in and removes Katie, but right as I go to apologize, she turns those eyes on me and they go flat while she shuts me out.

“I’m fine, and though I appreciate what I think was your concern, don’t bother, I can take care of myself.”

Goddamn stubborn woman. She must sense this is about to come out of my mouth, because she holds her hands up and asks me if I need a ride home. I shake my head
no
, afraid if I attempt to speak I’ll mess it up even farther.

When she asks Katie the same thing, Katie’s eyes slide to mine and then back to Rachel. “We’re supposed to meet Dean and Doug and some of their friends for dinner at seven, remember?”

Dean. Right, her college boy, the one who takes her on dates and probably has the good sense to call her the next day—or at least not yell at her when what he means to do is ask her if she’s okay. I’m such an idiot.

Turning on my heel, I walk back toward the gym without bothering to say goodbye or look over my shoulder. Huey’s waiting for me at the edge of the sidewalk. Without a word, we walk back toward the gym together. I pause outside of the door and give in to the pressure to close my eyes and press the heels of my hands to them.

“So, that seemed pretty intense.”

I laugh, leaving my eyes closed a second longer. “You could say that.”

“Everything all right?”

Since I have no idea, I nod to keep it simple. “Yeah, just things that can’t be avoided.” And that’s the problem. I wanted to yell at Rachel, to make her see that this can’t happen, but the reality is that the only way it’s going to stop is if Marcus escalates enough to show just how dangerous he is. Again.

My blood chills. I remember the last time Rachel was cornered by Marcus Fucking Kash—the rage that comes each time I remember she was alone, terrified, and subject to the whims of a psychopath who’s never been denied anything in his life.

Huey slaps me on the shoulder again. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, big T. And if Coach asks, you were puking your guts out from a burrito at lunch.”

I nod my thanks and go back to practice. The entire time I’m running my drills, I’m thinking of Rachel and wondering if I’ll forever be scared for her safety.

9

Past

“Tripp, where are you going?”

“Where the hell do you think I’m going?”

“Tripp, don’t. It’s over.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s about to be.”

“Tripp—”

“He pushed you into a
wall
, Rachel. There are bruises on your hip. He made you cry.” The words rip out of me, and I have to take a deep breath, knowing that she’s been through enough today—she doesn’t need me to yell at her, too. But Jesus Christ,
over
? No, it’s not close to over. That asshole started a war, and he’s about to see exactly what kind of pain I can bring him.

She shifts on the couch where I laid her earlier, wincing only slightly, but it’s enough to make me clench my hands into fists. She’s seven months pregnant, and even though her belly just really started showing last month, I know she gets sore—she gets tired. There are things that she used to be able to do that she just can’t right now. Handling Marcus Kash is one of them.

“Tripp, he’s not dangerous—he just wanted to scare me, to make me think he is so I won’t make him claim responsibility for the baby. Since I wasn’t planning on doing that anyway, there’s no need to make a big deal out of this.”

“This
is
a big deal, Rachel. I don’t give a flying fuck what his motivation was. He threatened you. He put his hands on you. I could kill him for that alone.”

Her eyes fill again, the look of desperation and fear—and something more, so hard to see. I give in enough to sit next to her, but my anger won’t fade completely away. “What do you want me to do, Rachel? You won’t go to the police. You won’t tell your mom what he’s been saying. You won’t tell anyone that he’s now threatened you. Do you really expect me to sit back and do nothing after someone’s hurt you? I can’t—” She looks up at me. “I can’t let this go, Rachel. Don’t ask me to.”

Our eyes stay locked. Though I can see the hurt and exhaustion in hers, there’s something else there too—a sadness that isn’t what it was a moment ago when she was talking about Marcus. I want to ask her about it, want to run my fingers over her cheek and into her hair and pull her close, but I ignore those wants because Rachel is my best friend, not my girlfriend. She’s someone I love, but can’t be in love with.

“Okay, but I’m texting Tanner and Griff. You’re taking them with you. I don’t want you going at all,” she says when I attempt to argue. “But if you really think that this is what needs to be done, if this is the only thing you’ll accept, fine—but your brothers are going with you.”

I nod and stand, being careful not to touch her when I do. “Get some sleep. And I still think you should tell your mom and Stacy—at least enough they know where Marcus stands. I don’t want you hurt again,” I tell her. She nods that sad smile back.

“Tripp,” she says when I’m halfway to the door. I turn and look at her, waiting while she stands slowly. Her hands go to her belly for a second and I have to swallow, worry and anger eating me alive from the inside. “This, what Marcus did? It’s just bruises. I’ll get over these. It’s the stuff you can’t see—the things that happen when you least expect them that hurt the most.”

She walks away from me, down the hall toward her room. I’m left standing near the front door, wondering if she just sucker punched me for leaving her alone all those months ago. And wondering if this is all somehow my fault.

~

“Dude, you have to let it go. You both made your choices; now you have to live with them.”

I nod at Tanner from the front seat, but I don’t say anything. Griff’s driving, having made the valid point that of the three of us, he’s the one with the car least likely to break down. I love Betty, but she’s inconsistent on a good day, and Tanner’s GTO can be heard in the next state over. We’d likely get cited for a noise violation before we ever even got to Marcus. So, we’re in Griff’s classic Bronco. He’s at the wheel, and Tanner is leaning over the center console from the back while I ride shotgun.

When I got home, they were both waiting for me. Griff’s a junior, and Tanner’s a freshman at Oregon State; neither lives at home anymore, but Rachel texted both of them and here they are. I haven’t really ever said much about Rachel—only the one time with Tanner, when I couldn’t come to terms with what I’d done or why I’d walked. When I got into the car, I didn’t even know what I was doing until the words were spilling out.

We’re almost to the parking lot where we know Marcus waits and makes deals with people who stop by. Tanner’s the one to remind me that the past can’t be changed—only survived.

“You still with Lauren?”

I look over at Griff, the quietest of us all, the steadiest, the most introspective, and I nod.

“Do you care about her?”

I nod again, because it’s true. I do care about Lauren—that’s the kicker. She’s the one I went after, the one I saw and wanted right away without really understanding why—a shiny new package I saw and instantly wanted because it was new. Rachel’s always just been Rachel. She’s the girl I tell everything to because she’s not just a girl—she’s the one person I can’t live without, and that makes her different. Until eight months ago, it made her off limits. Now, it doesn’t matter what’s there, because her life is complicated and we’re in no position to deal with what I want.

“You can’t compare them. Tanner’s right—you can’t change what you and Rae did. You hooked up, neither of you manned up and talked about it. You both went on with your lives, and you’re now here in a place where none of it matters. The only thing you can control is how you treat Lauren. If you don’t want to be with her, you break up with her. If you like her, go with it. You’re seventeen, Tripp. Try to remember that.”

“Preach it, G money,” Tanner says and claps him on the shoulder.

I smile despite myself. I don’t feel seventeen, but I know they’re both right. We can’t change what we did. Rachel’s my best friend. Lauren’s my girlfriend. Whatever Rachel and I did once feels so long ago. Now, her life isn’t about me, or even her. It’s about the baby. I need to put my shit aside and be her friend—be there for her in a way I wasn’t sure I could after we spent that night together. It means beating some fear into the guy she had the bad call to hook up with so he knows he isn’t allowed to look at her, let alone fucking touch her.

We don’t talk again until we’re pulling into a parking space near the water downtown. Across the street is a Riverwalk with restaurants and bars that are starting to pick up for their nightly rush. The bridge leading over the river onto the thirty-four is moving with a slow and steady line of cars—people making their way from Corvallis to the interstate or one of its neighboring towns. I look around the parking lot of the old visitor’s information center, spotting Marcus’s Beemer.

He’s sitting in the front, looking down at his phone, his engine running and the windows up. I start to get out and Tanner puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Wait for him to come to you.”

I look at him and raise my brow, but he just shakes his head
no
. “This body’s a temple, little Jackson, but there are people I know who use this kid’s services. We wait for him to come to us. If he doesn’t, we go to the grocery store on Kings and wait. He’ll find us.”

I’m saved from waiting when I see Marcus’s door open two minutes later. He strolls over, hands in his pockets. I take stock to see what I’m up against. I’m a year younger than he is and just about eye level from what I remember, but this kid isn’t known for lifting weights or taking care of himself. I might still have some growing to do, but I’m reasonably confident that when I tell him to back the fuck off, he’ll hear me.

“Are you fine gentlemen lost this evening?” he asks at the driver’s window. Griff shakes his head
no
even as I’m stepping out, Tanner sliding through the door behind me.

“Need to talk to you a second, Marcus,” Griff says, pushing the door open. We’re relatively secluded; Griff parked near the old building and the trees lining the street are still thick with growth. I step up, impatient to let this piece of shit know who I am—and just who I’m here for.

“Leave Rachel
alone
.”

I get straight up in his face. I have to give the guy credit; he barely flinches, and doesn’t step back. He stands nose to nose with me while Tanner and Griff watch from beside the Bronco.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” his voice is calm as ice, his dilated pupils almost black, and his narrow face set in amused lines.

“The girl you threatened today? The one you said you’d
handle
if she talked about your baby again—the one you left bruises on? Ringing any bells?”

My hands are still at my sides, but when a smile spreads smug and satisfied across his face, they clench into fists.

“Ah, yes, Flow. I don’t remember threatening her, but we had a conversation today. Who are you again?”

“The dude who’s telling you to stay the fuck away from her, or I’ll kill you.”

His eyes go flat; so does his face. “Now who’s making threats?”

I lean in and hear Tanner and Griff step closer. “It’s not a threat.” I see he understands. I step back. “Don’t ever touch Rachel again.”

I’m a foot away when he speaks. “We’ll see. It’s hard to let someone so fresh go—especially when they scream like that for you their first time. Makes you want to take them harder and faster…over and over…until they scream for days.”

He tries to step back, but my fingers are twisted into his shirtfront, halting him. My other fist plows into his face again and again. I switch and place the next few hits deep into his stomach. I want to hit him some more—to bloody his face until it’s nothing but a pulverized mess—but I made a promise, and Griff’s got his arms wrapped around me. I let Marcus go, and feel an immense satisfaction when he falls to his knees retching.

“Like I said, it’s not a threat.”

10

Present