Page 37 of Trip

Jake was at the limit of what the human body could handle, so much so he almost seemed calm. “Ah, Cristofer, ever the golden boy, the knight in shining armor. You had it all. I hated always standing in your shadow. So sick of you. I even fucked your ugly ass sister just to get to you and instead, you said you were happy for us. God, you are so disgustingly perfect.”

“What in the actual fuck? I’m going to shut this bastard up if you don’t.” Pound stepped forward, but Trip stopped him. The rage rolling off Pound was unexpected.

“He won’t shut me up. Cris is much too perfect to do that.” Jake’s tone was mocking. “Oh, but I finally won. I got you when I fucked your girl. You should’ve seen your face when I told you about how she screamed for my cock. Even better, when she looked at you with tears in her eyes and you stormed off.”

“YOU DIDN’T FUCK HER, YOU RAPED HER.” The words exploded from Trip, and he couldn’t stand to breathe the same air as that fucker any longer.

“Call it what you want, but I had her and no matter how perfect you are, you can’t change that—”

Trip ripped the ice pick free from the chair and drove it into his neck. Blood shot out like a busted hose, catching Trip right in the face, so he leaned to his other ear. “We’re back together and will stay that way. She’s already forgotten you. I will too, as soon as I walk out of this room. You are nothing to anyone and we’ll scatter your parts in the desert for the coyotes to eat. I got the girl and put an end to you. How is that for perfect?”

Trip stayed there and listened to him gargle his own blood as the busted hose sound faded away. Trip couldn’t move.

“Man, if you are going to come to Hotel California, you need to be clear on the ground rules. Rule number one, never talk about Hotel California. Rule number two, no arterial spray, ever. It’s a bitch to clean.”

Trip stood upright in time to see Pound smack Taps in the back of the head.

Taps rubbed the abused spot while Trip stared at the naked dead man slumped in the chair. He expected to have more feelings about ending the man’s life he once considered his closest friend, but he felt nothing but relief. His family was safe, and that’s all that mattered.

“I just don’t get why he came back after all this time?” Trip muttered to himself. Since he already ended the fucker, he’d never know.

“Meri and the kids.” Trip met Pound’s eyes and the bloodlust in them was palpable until he locked that shit down. “We’ll hit all the details in church, but let’s just say he needed her to get him out of some bad shit. Shit that’s about to blow back on us when they realize he’s dead. But no worries, brother, she’s family and we take care of our own.”

The fire in his brother’s tone burned a little hot for Meri just being his sister. If he didn’t know better... He raised a questioning eyebrow at Pound.

He nodded once. “Strip.”

“What?”

“Strip,” Pound repeated. Taps was already doing the same. “You’re too covered to leave.” Pound stepped out and back in, holding two towels. Trip watched as Taps tossed his clothes in a barrel and stepped onto the grate in the front corner of the room to shower.

Once Taps washed all the blood from his body, he stepped off the grate and gestured for Trip to step up. “Fuck, that’s cold.” Taps complained as he toweled off. “Could we maybe not keep the towels in the freezer?” Pound just rolled his eyes.

Trip stripped, dropped his clothes in the barrel as Taps had and stepped onto the grated floor. He watched the red water run down his front and realized how true it was that he couldn’t go tracking through the clubhouse like that.

When he was dry and cold as fuck, he wrapped the towel around his waist, and they stepped back through the freezer. Thank God, there was honeycombed rubber matting on the floor or he would’ve lost a layer of skin on his feet.

No one spoke as they retrieved their cuts and phones. Before they went upstairs, Pound assured him they’d have Davis and Blake take out the trash.

That was fine with him. He meant what he said. He would forget about Jake the minute he left the room. If there was one thing he excelled at because of his not-so-official Army training, it was compartmentalizing. All Trip wanted to do was get upstairs, fuck his woman six ways to Sunday and make her forget that bastard, too.

Trip jogged up the stairs two at a time to get to his room. JJ wasn’t on the bed. Instead, he heard a series of sexy as fuck moans and the sounds of lapping water coming from the bathroom.

He dropped the towel and stepped up to the tub. JJ’s eyes were closed, her hand below the surface, and his name on her lips. He couldn’t help but reach down and stroke his cock in time with her hand. “I would offer to finish that up for you, but I’d rather watch.”

JJ jumped and cursed at the sound of his voice but settled down when her eyes drifted to his cock.

She bit her lip and resumed her pleasurable pursuit, adding a nipple pinch just to fuck with him.

“Damn, I am one lucky bastard.”

“Yeah, you are.”

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