Page 5 of Trip (Riders of Retribution #3)

Julia

Telling Trip everything was never something that I wanted to do. It’s not that I don’t trust him. Actually, I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone besides my sisters. I just haven’t processed everything that’s happened yet.

I mean, how do you even begin to process your parents being murdered? Therapy, maybe. But I can’t afford to go, not while I’m paying for my sisters’ weekly visits.

Surprisingly though, when I’m on the back of his bike, I feel like everything’s going to be okay.

Part of it is definitely being pressed up against him, but there’s something freeing about the wind whipping around me.

Maybe this is how I can process everything and learn to live with the dark cloud that’s been hanging over me for so long.

When we get to Trip’s house, I’m surprised to see a well-manicured lawn and perfectly trimmed bushes. Inside, I’m even more surprised to see how clean the interior is. I wasn’t expecting him to be a slob by any means, but he is a single man. They’re not exactly known for their cleanliness.

“Here, sit down,” he says as he leads me to his couch. “Let me get you something to drink.”

As I lower myself onto the slightly hard cushions, Trip disappears into his kitchen.

He isn’t gone for very long, but it’s enough time for me to get in my head about everything.

Telling him what happened, the reason my sisters and I are in Rio Lunas, isn’t something I can do.

Not so soon. I might scare him off, and even though I do trust him, what if we’re just in the honeymoon period I’ve heard so much about?

“Sorry I don’t have anything more exciting,” he says as he passes me a water bottle.

“It’s fine,” I murmur, accepting the bottle.

Silence settles between us, and I open the bottle to take a drink, and the sound of the top popping off is deafening in the quiet room. It borders on the edge of awkward. There’s nothing I can think to say that would be appropriate. In the end, it’s Trip who speaks first.

“I’m sorry for pressing for details like that in the diner,” he says, voice soft like he’s talking to a spooked animal. “That wasn’t fair of me.”

“It wasn’t,” I say, surprising myself with my candor. “There’s a reason I don’t talk about what happened. And I don’t even know if this is something I can trust you with.”

He nods, murmuring, “I suppose I haven’t given you any reason to trust me.” Then, he meets my eyes, his gaze as close to vulnerable as a man like him can get. “You know how I told you about my sister? The one who raised me who passed away?”

“I do,” I say, realizing that he’s about to give me a part of himself even though I didn’t ask for it.

“Well, she passed away because someone murdered her,” Trip says, the words striking a chord deep within me. “I mean, I don’t think killing her was their goal, but they were still planning on doing awful things to her.”

He stops to swallow harshly. I reach over to grab his hand, comforting him the same way he comforted me in the diner. The contact brings a smile out of him. It’s small and sad, but it’s there, and I feel like I’ve done something right.

“She was at a party, too young to be drinking. But that’s just what teenagers do. They go out, they get drunk. They make bad decisions,” he says.

“That doesn’t mean she deserved what happened,” I whisper, hoping my words help.

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Anyway, someone put something in her drink. They drugged her. At first, everyone just thought she’d had too much or couldn’t handle her alcohol. The friend she was with stayed with her while she was throwing up and struggling to breathe.

“It was before everyone had cell phones. And her friend screamed for someone to call 911. I talked to her the day after it happened, and her voice was so hoarse, she tried so hard to save my sister. Someone disconnected the landline, probably to avoid getting into trouble. She had to run to a neighbor’s house to make the 911 call, but it was too late.

May was already gone by the time the paramedics got there.

Whoever spiked her drink used too much; she was such a little thing, her system couldn’t handle it. ”

“Trip,” I whisper, unsure of what to say.

He delivered those words with a sort of detachment. This is the first time I’ve seen a crack in his exterior. It obviously hurts him to share this, even if he’s trying to come off as unaffected. The trust he’s giving me is implicit, and now I want nothing more than to show him I feel the same.

“I…” I start, blinking away tears I didn’t even realize were forming. “My parents… They were killed. But– I– It wasn’t an accident or anything like that. They were murdered.”

“Julia, that’s horrible,” he says as he places his arm around my shoulder and pulls me even closer. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. It happened recently, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “It only happened about six months ago. And… they were killed in their bedroom one night when my sisters and I were staying with our grandparents to help out. I don’t know if they were waiting until we were out of the house, or if we were just lucky.

My sisters and I tried to stay in town, but we couldn’t.

We bounced around a lot. We stayed in a motel for a few months, but that was too expensive.

Then we tried staying with one of my friends, but our parents’ murderer is still at large, so we just couldn’t stay. ”

“And that’s how you ended up in Rio Lunas,” Trip finishes. I nod, unsure of what else to say. “Do the police have any leads?”

“No,” I say, the wound feeling almost too raw. “They– They can’t figure out a motive and don’t have any leads. No one called in any tips, and no one in our neighborhood had any cameras. Honestly, I don’t even think the police care.”

I leave out the theories I have about my father’s past. My family moved around a lot, and it felt like he was always looking over his shoulder. It might not be coincidence that when my parents finally let their guards down that something happened to them.

“They’re bastards,” he says with vitriol. “The police here didn’t do anything to find the guy that drugged my sister.”

“How awful,” I whisper, wondering how two broken people like us have found each other.

“It is, but at least I was able to do something about it,” he says. “That’s why I joined the Riders of Retribution. When the police fail, we step in to keep our community safe. For you… Julia, I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” I say. “I didn’t feel safe there, so I left. I was able to do something.”

“Well, let me have the Riders of Retribution do patrols around your place,” he says, apparently picking up on the fact that I still don’t feel safe. I don’t think I ever will again.

“You don’t have to,” I say, feeling like accepting his help would be asking for way too much. “I– We’re okay now.”

His gaze burns through me. It’s almost like he can see right through me. I hold my breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I want to keep you and your family safe, Julia,” Trip says, tightening the arm he has around me. “We both know that the police are useless. You already do so much for your family. Let me take some of that burden off your shoulders.”

“I…” I start, hesitating. “Maybe I should take you up on that. There’s–”

I stop myself again. He doesn’t need to know that my family might have been involved in something shady. If I accept his help, that means that I’ll have an extra set of eyes on my sisters when I’m not there.

But what if the man who came after my parents shows up and members of the MC get hurt because they’re not prepared? I can’t have something like that on my shoulders. I should warn them.

“Where’s your head?” Trip asks, ducking down to catch my eye.

“I… I have a theory,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, “on why my parents were killed.”

He stiffens beside me before saying, “What’s that?”

“I don’t have anything concrete,” I admit. “They just always seemed nervous about something, especially my dad. We never stayed in one place for too long. And when we did, well… you know what happened. I just… what if my dad did something really messed up before my sisters and I were born?”

“Well, even if he did do something, I’m sure it wasn’t so bad that he and your mother should have lost their lives,” Trip replies.

He kisses the crown of my head, and some of the tension I was holding onto starts to dissipate.

“And, if you ask me, he was a damn good man. You have to be to raise a kid as strong, independent, and kind as you.”

I don’t know why, but a laugh bubbles out of me, starting in my chest but quickly morphing into a belly laugh.

I throw my arms around him, letting him pull me onto his lap.

He strokes my hair as the giggles wrack my body.

By the time I’m able to catch my breath, I find myself wondering why I was so nervous about telling him in the first place.

“How do you know exactly what to say to make me feel better?” I ask, leaning back to look at him through the laughter induced tears swimming in my eyes.

“Believe it or not, I’m not usually good at this kind of thing,” he says, squeezing my hips playfully as another one of his rare smiles graces his lips. “The only thing that matters to me is keeping you safe and smiling. I take it that I’m doing a good job of that right now?”

“The best,” I confirm before I lean in to connect our lips.

This time, our kiss isn’t full of the same fire it contained last night.

Instead, it’s warm, like a security blanket.

Kissing him now feels like coming home after a long day of work.

It’s like taking a bubble bath with a steaming mug of tea and my favorite book.

I’m safe and cared for in his embrace, and I long for more of this feeling.

God, I hope he feels the same way. Because I don’t intend on letting go of him.

I’m going to hold onto the rope that’s tying us together even if it rubs my hands raw.

Although, with the way his mouth moves against mine and his arms tighten around my waist, I don’t think that’s something I’m going to have to worry about.

When we part a few minutes later, I rest my forehead against his, letting my eyes fall closed. Breathing in each other’s air, I decided that I want more of him. I want everything he’ll give me.

I want to finish what we started last night.

“Trip,” I murmur, my voice sounding far away to my own ears. It’s like we’re in a dreamlike bubble. “Trip I want all of you.”

“If you want all of me, you’ll get all of me,” he replies as he connects our lips again, hungrier and more insistent than last time. “I’ll give it to you right here, Julia. I’m all yours as long as you’re all mine.”

“I’ve been yours since you walked into the diner,” I say before he smashes our mouths together.