How can I answer that? Love? Is that even possible to know after only a few weeks time?
When I don’t answer right away, Bill says, “You don’t have to answer that, Trip. Just do me a favor and think on it. All the best financial intentions in the world won’t matter to Holly if you don’t love her. She cares for you. I see the way she looks at you. You’re the real reason she was able to finally tell Jackson goodbye and mean it. My daughter has been searching for real love ever since her mom ran out on us. She thought she’d found that in Jackson, but all that boy did was lie to her. I’m asking you to always be honest with her and don’t lead her on if you don’t see an actual future with her. There’s something that happens to people who miss out on a mother’s love. It triggers a never-ending search for unconditional love. So don’t tell her you love her unless you really mean it. Lying to her will only hurt her more.”
I swallow hard and nod. Toying with Holly’s heart isn’t something I ever want to do. It’s the main reason I fought against my desire to sleep with her in the first place. She’s the relationship kind of girl, and I knew that when I slept with her. Now I just have to figure out where she and I go from here. All I know right now is that I want to be with her. The rest I’ll have to figure out. “I understand.”
Bill smiles. “I know you do.”
HOLLY
The next week flies by. Every moment of every day is spent working on organizing the race. Trip received confirmation back that the band will play at our race the very day he called them. Trip seems very excited that Black Falcon is coming here because he went to work getting graphics made for the signage for the event. Working alongside Trip has been great. Not once has he laughed at my ideas, or tried to take over like Jackson would’ve done if he’d been the one helping me.
We haven’t slept apart since that first night we had sex. Sleeping with Trip has quickly become something I crave. Every little touch from him ignites a fire in my belly that only he can extinguish—something he is always eager to do.
I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve been a complete horn-dog lately. Trip has a crazy effect on me. It’s like I can’t get enough of him. Even when he’s with me, I’m constantly thinking of him, which is making my job confirming all the riders for this weekend difficult.
I press end on my cell phone and grin at Trip, who looks up me from his computer screen. “Charlie Chance just confirmed. That’s one hundred and fifty riders in total for an open-class race. I think we’ve got enough bikes to have some great heats in the 125 and 250 classes.”
Trip closes his laptop. “That’s great news. One hundred and fifty is the goal, right?”
I nod. “Yes. It’s the perfect number for our small race. The next one we do can go bigger. How’s the budget looking?”
“It’s completely under control. We’ve sold enough pre-order tickets to totally fund the event. This will give the track a great boost to get back on its feet.”
“I’m excited to meet the band and thank them in person for all they’ve done,” I say.
Trip sighs. “About that…there’s something I need to tell you.”
Pain appears in the expression on his face. I’ve never seen him like this. It’s like he’s being tortured with his own thoughts. I reach for his hand, willing away the hurt in his eyes. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll work through it.”
He sucks in his lower lip. “I’m actually—”
Before Trip has time to tell me whatever he was going to say, Dad bursts through the office door. “Trip come quick! Jackson is beating the hell out of Max. I’m not strong enough to break them up. I need your help!”
I suck in a quick breath as Trip flies off his stool and toward the door. I’m right on his heels as he comes to a skidding stop on the front porch. My eyes lock on the grotesque display of human behavior before me. Max lies on the ground in a curled up ball, while Jackson towers over him, shouting slurs.
My hand covers my mouth. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Jackson did an excellent job of hiding his true colors from me. I know Max told me how Jackson treated him, but never imagined I would witness this scene.
Jackson yanks his leg back and kicks Max square in the stomach before he bends down and says, “I’ll give you something to really cry about to the cops, you fucking homo.”
I gasp as Trip pushes forward and leaps over the banister, landing on Jackson’s back. A cloud of dust engulfs them and they immediately begin tearing into each other. It’s hard to tell where Trip ends and Jackson begins. They roll around on the ground, both trying to gain the upper hand. Trip’s size finally overpowers Jackson and he takes control.
Trip slams his fist into Jackson’s face, and Jackson’s head rocks back. “Why don’t you pick on someone who isn’t afraid to fight back?” Trip punches him again. “You fucking coward.”
Trip’s hands wrap around Jackson’s throat as blind rage takes hold of him. I grab Dad’s arm.
Oh God, please don’t let Trip kill him. Jackson isn’t worth Trip going back to jail for.
Jackson reaches up and shoves the heel of his hand into Trip’s face. Jackson is having trouble getting air because of Trip’s hold because his face turns beet red.
Max groans and rolls onto his back on the ground, just as sirens blare in the distance.