Chapter 8
BLITZ
Two days after my second date with Aubrey, the last person I wanted to run into stepped right into my line of sight as I crossed the clubhouse common room.
Tripp moved comfortably among the brothers who still had no idea he was lying to all of us.
His casual demeanor grated against the truth that burned in my gut every time I looked at him, fueling a frustration that seemed to grow each day.
He glanced up as he neared me, a flicker of awareness crossing his face as if he could read the tension building just under my surface. Tripp might not know exactly what had changed between us, but he was too observant not to realize something was off.
“You good, brother?” The words were cautiously, as he clearly tried to gauge my reaction.
I gave a humorless laugh, bitterness twisting my tone more than I intended. “Funny question coming from you, Tripp. You really wanna talk about being good?”
His gaze flickered, barely a heartbeat of hesitation before he covered it up again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” I muttered, already kicking myself for letting the accusation slip out.
I’d planned on playing this closer to the vest until I had a handle on how to deal with the inevitable fallout when Tripp discovered my relationship with Aubrey.
Instead, I was running my mouth like some loose-lipped rookie, making mistakes I couldn’t afford.
Tripp didn’t push harder, though he clearly wanted to. He just stood there, weighing my reaction with a look that said he knew there was more beneath the surface. Finally, he ran a hand over the back of his neck and exhaled slowly.
“Look, man, I’m here if you need to talk.” A faint grin curved his lips, one that might have been sincere under different circumstances. “Or if you need to beat the shit outta someone.”
The offer hung in the air, twisting the knife even deeper because I’d believed him every other time he’d said shit like that. He’d always acted like a brother, and I’d been blind enough to take it at face value. Now, I knew better.
I almost opened my mouth and told him I knew everything, but I caught myself before the words could escape. Instead, I just forced out a half-hearted response. “It’s nothing. Just family drama.”
He nodded, accepting my explanation without further question, but his eyes remained watchful.
The subtle shift in his posture told me he’d caught more than I’d intended to show.
I knew that look—he was logging away the details, something I’d seen him do dozens of times before.
The realization had me wondering, not for the first time, why I’d never noticed how one-sided our friendship had become.
I’d shared so damn much with him—things I rarely told anyone outside my club brothers.
Stories of my large, chaotic family where everyone knew everyone’s business.
He knew about my father, a successful lawyer who argued for sport, and my mother, the real estate agent who could charm snakes from their holes with a bright smile and steady conversation.
Growing up in a household crowded with siblings, cousins, and neighbors meant I’d learned to remember people and details in a way most never bothered to, out of necessity if nothing else.
But racing was the one thing that had always been purely mine.
Since my teens, when other kids were wasting time on sports fields or parties, I’d been chasing anything with an engine.
Every spare dollar had gone toward race tickets or car parts, and every weekend was spent working on machines or chasing the next adrenaline fix.
I’d discovered early on that I had a gift for reading a track, predicting other drivers, and knowing precisely when to make my move.
It was how I’d first crossed paths with the Redline Kings.
Kane Beckett had already been building his racing empire by then.
The club had recognized my driving skills first, and my organizational abilities second.
What started as helping with administrative tasks at the tracks eventually evolved into a prospect patch, and later, my role as club secretary.
Over time, I’d become the organizational backbone of the Redline Kings.
My strength wasn’t kicking doors down first. I was the man who knew who owned the building, who was inside, their family connections, and exactly what they'd do when the door flew off its hinges. But for some reason, as meticulous as I was with everyone else, I’d barely noticed that Tripp had never reciprocated.
Until recently, I’d barely known anything real about him at all.
I hadn’t understood that the man I’d considered a friend had been studying me not as a brother, but as an asset to exploit.
I’d been too trusting and open, and now the truth had left a scar that wouldn’t heal quickly.
The wound was still fresh enough to sting, and Aubrey complicated things even more.
Tripp's sister had become my Achilles’ heel, a problem I’d never seen coming but one that could unravel everything. If I’d been smart, I’d have stayed away. But apparently, intelligence didn’t mean a damn thing where Aubrey was concerned.
Tripp finally nodded, his expression softening slightly, unaware of how deeply his words cut into me. “Yeah, man, I can only imagine. I’ve just got my sister, and it’s always been the two of us since our parents died. She’s my whole damn world, you know?”
His voice carried a sincerity I couldn’t ignore, and I felt another pang of guilt.
Tripp loved Aubrey fiercely, something I understood even more clearly now after spending time with her.
I’d come close to destroying them both, using her innocence as a weapon against him, and just the thought of what I’d nearly done made bile rise in my throat.
If I’d gone through with it, I would have become exactly the kind of man I despised. The type I’d put down without hesitation. And definitely not someone worthy of Aubrey.
Just having contemplated that plan made me undeserving. Not that it changed anything.
I drew in a careful breath, forcing the guilt back down and masking my reaction as best I could. “Yeah.”
My entire purpose had shifted, and now, instead of plotting how to use Aubrey to hurt him, I had to figure out how to convince them both that she had become the most important thing in my world.
She was everything to me, and the idea of losing her was unthinkable.
Somehow, I had to make them understand the depth of what had changed for me.
When Tripp finally turned and left, I stood in the quiet clubhouse corridor, suddenly feeling restless and incomplete. Right then, all I wanted was to see Aubrey. I needed to ground myself again in her presence.
Before I could second-guess myself, I pulled out my phone and called her, pacing quietly as I waited for her to pick up.
“Hey.”
The warmth in her voice immediately eased some of the tension that had gathered in my chest. It brought clarity to the chaos and anchored me again.
“Can I see you again tonight? I know it’s late, but—”
“I’d like that,” she replied softly. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
Her admission sent heat pulsing through my veins, and I closed my eyes briefly, letting her words wash over me. “I’ve been thinking about you, too, sunshine. Probably too much.”
“I’ll be ready whenever you get here,” she offered with a laugh.
As I ended the call, I was painfully aware of the precarious ground beneath us.
Eventually, everything would detonate, and I’d have to face the truth about Tripp, my original intentions, and how I’d planned to use Aubrey.
But right now, none of that mattered as much as being close to her again.
I needed her with a hunger that had taken hold of me so deeply I knew there was no turning back.
I headed toward my bike, each step filled with the resolve that had settled deep into my bones. No matter what lay ahead, Aubrey Cullen belonged to me. And I wasn't letting her go.