The Good Girl In My Bed (Dangerous Desire Book 2)

by Lexxie Couper

  Watched my fingers form a reply. “Got it.”

  I hit send, incapable of doing anything else.

  A second after the message was delivered, my phone began ringing, Ronnie’s face appearing on the cracked screen.

  I almost answered it. I really did. But at the sight of her beautiful smiling face splintered and disfigured by all the cracks in the screen, I didn’t.

  Those cracks…the damage…

  Swallowing at the lump in my throat, I hit decline.

  The phone fell silent.

  The only sound I could hear was my hammering heart.

  Closing my eyes, I slumped back on the bed, bunching my fists over and over. I felt sick. Cold and numb and sick and angry.

  But more than anything, I missed her. I missed who I was when I was with her. I missed the certainty she brought into my every minute, the belief that the world was a good place. The knowledge I had a reason to keep breathing every day.

  I missed her.

  I drew an image of her in my mind. It was sheer torture to do so, to do this to myself, but I could help it.

  I saw her.

  She smiled at me, held out her arms to me.

  I dragged in a slow breath, wishing I could feel those arms around me now.

  In my head, she moved her fingers to the buttons on her shirt. Released them. One after the other.

  My body stirred. My cock did the same.

  How fucked up was I that I was imagining my girl, getting hard to the thought of her right now? With what I was about to do, how could I possibly be turned on?

  But it had always been this way with Ronnie. Since the day I first met her… How many times had I thought of her and gotten a boner at the most inappropriate time? Why should today be any different?

  I lay stretched on the bed and saw her in my head, watched her undress, watched her play with her breasts, her nipples, her pussy, her gaze on me, my name on her lips…

  Fuck, what was I doing here? Why wasn’t I with her?

  We could move to fucking Brazil, Australia. Christ, we could move anywhere. I didn’t have to be here. I didn’t have to be away from her. We could move and leave my shit past life behind.

  Why was I here? Why had I left her?

  Because Rufie had declared war on me. And if he couldn’t get to me, if he couldn’t get to Ronnie, he’d go after my mom, Ronnie’s parents…

  He’d go after anyone in my life that meant anything to me.

  And I didn’t run away. I wouldn’t run away.

  I would end it.

  That’s what I had to do.

  End it.

  Heart racing, I destroyed the image of Ronnie in my head. It served me no purpose being there now.

  Now, I had to think about the plan. Now, I had to—

  My phone vibrated in my hand again.

  I groaned. I couldn’t look at it. If it was Ronnie, I was fucked.

  Like before though, I was incapable of stopping myself from reading the incoming message.

  Opening my eyes, I stared at the shattered screen.

  And sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Miss me, Trip? I hear you’re back in town. Think we should hook up. R.”

  Did Lila know I’d failed to get in contact with Rufie? Did she expect me to be so fucked up by missing Ronnie I’d forget to do it? Was that why he was texting me?

  Another incoming message flashed on my screen. “Hope you brought your girl with you. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  A prickling heat crept over me. A slow smile stretched my lips. Rufie had just signed his death warrant. He might not know it. He might think he had the upper hand, but at the mention of Ronnie, he’d struck the final nail in his coffin.

  Smile turning to a grin, I tapped in a reply and hit send.

  “Coffee? Our usual place in an hour? You game?”

  It took him five minutes to reply. He would know exactly what I’d said. That I was going to fucking kill him at the Trinity warehouse in an hour.

  “See you then, Trip. Alone. I’m not in the mood to share you.”

  “Done,” I answered.

  Grin growing wider, I got to my feet and stripped the sweat-drenched running gear from my body.

  Party time was about to begin.

  I needed to get ready.

  Goodbye, Lucas Pratt. Hello, Tripwire.

  Chapter 5

  I arrived at the coffee shop—a derelict warehouse Trinity used as neutral territory before expected violence—fifteen minutes early. Climbing off my hog, I studied the dark, broken windows and boarded-up doors.

  The last coffee I’d drunk had been the coffee Ronnie had made me two mornings ago. I could almost fool myself into believing I could still smell the delicious aroma of the beans roasting.

  The smell of coffee wouldn’t be waiting for me inside.

  Rufie and his unwashed stink would be in there, along with who-the-fuck knows how many of my once-fellow Trinity members.

  I was walking into a death trap. I knew it. Rufie knew it. Everyone in there knew it.

  I was armed with my Glock, Berretta, brass knuckles, two hunting knives, and my switchblade. All would be taken from me the moment I walked into the place.

  That was the way I wanted it. I wouldn’t be the one disarmed when my weapons were taken from me. Years on the MMA circuit had taught me the person with the most powerful punch in the ring wasn’t always the best fighter.

  I fixed my stare on the warehouse, pictured Rufie inside.

  Rufie was a fucking narcissistic sadist. What he’d have planned for me…

  I should be worried about how much I was looking forward to what was about to happen. Instead, I was smiling.

  Eager.

  Ready.

  My smile stretched wider. “So fucking ready.”

  I withdrew my Glock from behind my back, started walking, and stopped when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  I didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was. Every fiber in my body knew who it was, and despite the fact I was a fucking idiot to answer, I did.

  “Babe.” I stared at the warehouse, seeing Ronnie in my head.

  “When I get my fucking hands on you, Lucas fucking Pratt,” Ronnie growled in my ear, “I’m going to—”

  “Kiss me,” I said. Jesus, my chest felt like someone was punching into it over and over. “You will kiss me, strip me naked, and fuck me senseless.”

  Slight movement in the uppermost window of the rundown building before me caught my attention. I was being watched.

  “I’m going to do all those things,” Ronnie agreed. “I’m also going to go down on you, suck your balls completely into my mouth, and press my finger into your—”

  “Okay, okay,” I burst out, heart racing, balls throbbing. “I’ll come back home ASAP. I promise.”

  Fuck, she’d made me hard. I was about to walk into a fucking bloodbath and Ronnie had turned my dick into a fucking pole.

  “Hell yeah, you’re coming home to me,” she agreed. I’d never heard her more insistent, angry, and demanding.

  I chuckled. Yeah, I loved her.

  “I’ll see you soon, Lucas,” she said, tone softening. The promise in her voice twisted my gut into a knot.

  My chest tightened. Fuck, if only she would see me soon.

  “Love you, babe,” I said. “For the rest of my life.”

  I ended the call before she could say something to make me turn around and hurry back to her.

  Jaw clenched, teeth gritted, I walked toward the warehouse.

  That same movement in the upper window caught my eye a few seconds before I stepped through the open roller door into the main area of the building.

  Rufie stood in the middle of the floor, smirking at me, flanked by his goons. As always with the fuck-knuckle prick, he carried a steel pipe—his preferred M.O. for fucking someone up.

  Two steps in, I was grabbed from behind.

  It took me exactly eight seconds to render the idiots unconscious.
I counted. Elbow to the solar plexus of the fucker on my right, fist to his nose as he crumpled over in pain. Heel to the foot of the douche on my left, followed by a palm-heel to his Adam’s apple.

  Both crumpled to the ground, eyes rolled back into their heads.

  The sound of clapping—and guns cocking—drew my focus back to Rufie.

  He continued to clap for a few moments, stare locked on me. Around him, the Trinity members he’d brought with him kept their guns trained on my chest.

  Idiots.

  Rufie stopped clapping, removed the steel pipe from where he’d tucked it under his armpit, and grinned. “Still not keen on physical contact, ’eh, Trip?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not into rough foreplay.”

  He brayed with laughter, an ass laughing like one. I was going to enjoy scraping his face over the ground. One concrete facial coming right up.

  Flicking his goons a quick look, he grinned wider. Had he always looked like a gibbon when smiling? Huh. “Look at Tripwire here. Tough as shit and clueless as cum.”

  I raised my eyebrows at the metaphor.

  He laughed again, adjusting his grip on the pipe with deliberate showmanship. I was going to plant that pipe so far up his ass he could use it as a straw.

  “So you came alone?” He scanned the area behind me, expression mocking. “Thought you’d bring at least someone to hold your hand, Trip.”

  “Don’t need my hand held to fuck you up,” I said.

  The guns pointing at me somehow seemed to point harder. The morons holding them looked frenzied.

  I knew almost all of them. All of the ones I knew hadn’t liked me much.

  “Loco always said you had balls bigger than Gibraltar.” Rufie swung the pipe in an arc beside his thigh. “Gonna be fun smashin’ ’em in. Although, not too much. You’re gonna need ’em.”

  “Am I now?” I made a show of returning my gun to my jeans’ waistband, a wordless I-don’t-need-this-to-deal-with-you display. “Why’s that?”

  Rufie snorted. “Someone wants them all for himself.”

  “Now that sounds—” I pulled a contemplative face, “—stupid.”

  Rufie narrowed his eyes. “I’m gonna enjoy fuckin’ you up, Trip. But first…” He nodded.

  I heard them coming at me before I saw and felt them. Five. Three of them were Trinity members who hated me. I took two out before they could touch me. The third slammed into me, ramming me to the ground. The fourth smashed his foot into my ribs as the other fucker scrambled off me. I curled around the kick, yanking the dick down, even as my ribs sang with white-hot agony.

  The fifth guy swung a kick at my head. I jerked out of his foot’s path just in time, but it was close.

  Three on one.

  It should have been easy for me. Instead, I kept thinking of Ronnie.

  And the plan Lila and I had laid out back in the safe house. Fuck, I had to be patient now.

  It took them forever, but they finally overpowered me but not before I broke more than one nose and various ribs. Blood flowed on my tongue, coppery and familiar.

  Two of them hauled me to my feet, the third gripped a fistful of my hair to yank my head backward as he removed the weapons I carried. All except the chain, which hung hidden in the leg of my jeans, snug against my left inner thigh.

  “That took longer than I thought it would,” I said, watching Rufie strut toward me.

  He sneered. “Even now, your fuckin’ ego thinks you’re king shit, Trip. Gonna show you how wrong you are.”

  “Go for it.”

  He stopped directly in front of me and smashed the pipe into the side of my face. My mouth exploded with blood. My vision detonated with black stars.

  Fuck.

  I thrashed, fighting against the three dicks holding me. Laughter scraped at my ears, echoing around the cavernous warehouse. Rufie’s. The Trinity members with him.

  Mine.

  “What the fuck are you laughin’ at?” Rufie snarled, shoving his face close to mine.

  “This cliché routine of yours, Randolph.”

  He gasped at my use of his real name and smashed the pipe into my jaw again.

  Not yet. Not yet. I thought furiously, spitting out a wad of blood before grinning at Rufie. “I didn’t realize you hit like a girl, Randy.”

  Rufie snarled, eyes burning with hate. He raised the pipe again, higher. I prepared myself for the blow. This one was really going to fucking hurt.

  Instead, Rufie snorted out a chuckle and took a step back. “Girl. Fuck, I almost forgot about the girl. Thanks for remindin’ me.” He turned and waved the pipe in a come-here gesture to someone I couldn’t see.

  Ice filled my veins. Wrapped my chest. Churned in my gut.

  I let out a ragged sigh of relief as Grub half limped, half shuffled into the clearing.

  Rufie chuckled again, turning back to me. “You did a good job on Grub, I’ll admit. I think he’s gonna be shittin’ and pissin’ blood for long while. But his cock still works—so he tells me—and he’s gonna use it on that fuckin’ hot cunt of yours.”

  I blinked, my head roaring. “What the fuck are you talking about, Randy.”

  The dick gripping my hair tightened his fist a split second before smashing a punch into my right kidney. I hissed and struggled against the arms holding me again, for good measure.

  Not yet. I sent out the silent order even as my entire body protested at the pain flooding it. Not yet.

  Rufie smirked. “Grub told us all about the chick swimmin’ naked in the pool at that house of yours. He’s got plans for her.”

  The ice returned to my veins; this time, however, it wasn’t from fear but rage. Cold, murderous fury. “Touch her and—”

  “And there’s Trip’s Achilles heel,” Rufie crowed, swinging out his arms to grin at the Trinity members around us.

  A part of me was impressed he even knew the Achilles heel mythos. A distant part. The rest was ready to kill him. Slowly. Painfully.

  Gleefully.

  “Now here’s the thing, Trip,” Rufie said as Grub reached his side. “You ratted out on us. Betrayed your Trinity brothers. Not just to the cops, but to some fuckin’ reporter.”

  Not yet.

  I flashed Rufie a smile. Blood oozed from the corner of my mouth. A bell rang in my head. “What can I say? I’m a prick.”

  My Trinity brothers shouted at me. None of it was nice.

  Rufie strutted closer, stroking the side of my face with the end of his pipe. “Ya got a price to pay, Trip. A debt. So this is how it’s gonna go down. Y’ gonna call that sweet little piece of cunt of yours an’ tell her to get here now. Y’ gonna tell her everything is okay. And when she gets here, y’ gonna stand still an’ watch Grub have his fuckin’ fun fuckin’ her. Then you’re gonna do the same as your Trinity brothers take their turns. Then, and only then, will I fuckin’ finish you off.”

  I snorted. “Finish me off? You?”

  Rufie grinned. “Ah, Trip, you have no fuckin’ clue how long I’ve been lookin’ forward to—”

  The sound of glass shattering somewhere in the warehouse shut Rufie up. He swung around, pipe raised. Grub cowered, flicking nervous glances at me through swollen eyes. The Trinity members did the same, guns jerking from me to the empty space around them, and back to me.

  I gritted my teeth, the roaring my head growing louder.

  What was going on? Breaking glass was not part of the plan. I needed more info from Rufie. Like how he’d found out about Lila’s ex-husband. How he’d found me.

  Rufie turned back to me. He looked on edge.

  I bit back a grunt of cold satisfaction. Good. He needed to be.

  “How did you learn about the reporter,” I asked. “Who told you?”

  “Y’ think I’m gonna tell y’ that? How fuckin’ dumb do you think I am? This ain’t a Bond movie, Trip.” Sneering at me, he shoved his hand into his hip pocket.

  “Looking for your dick, Randy?” I asked.

  The fucker gripping my h
air slammed his fist into my kidney again.

  Withdrawing a cell from his pocket, Rufie sneered at me. “Ready to make a call, Trip?”

  “Ready to suck my cock, Randolph?”

  He swung the pipe at my face.

  I snapped my body to the right, yanking the Trinity dick holding my left arm into the pipe’s trajectory.

  Steel crunched against bone a second before the warehouse filled with the shouts of men in pain.

  “What the fuck?” Rufie snapped his head around, gaping at the sight of three Trinity members collapsing to the ground, blood spurting from their knees.

  I pulled the moaning guy hanging off my left arm down, slamming my knee up into his face as I did so.

  He crumpled to the ground as I lashed out with my foot, swiping my heel into the ankles of the dick behind me holding a fistful of my hair. I used his momentum to dislodge the Trinity fuck holding my right arm.

  Just as I extracted myself, the fuck screamed, dropping to the ground, one of his knees a blood-spurting mess.

  She hasn’t lost her aim.

  The thought whispered through my head as I swung to face Rufie.

  He was still gaping at the wailing, writhing, bleeding Trinity members on the floor. If I were in a better mood, I would have laughed at the confusion on his face.

  Unfortunately for Rufie, I was in a killing mood.

  I launched myself at him in a jumping reverse spinning kick. My heel connected with his shoulder, sending him into a sprawling fall.

  “Fucker!” he yelled, scrambling to his feet. Attempting to, at least. “Shoot the fucker!”

  I heard guns cock, saw more than one gun snap to me. And then, in quick succession, four of the Trinity members pointing their guns at me screamed in pain, knees spurting with blood as they fell to the ground.

  I didn’t know where Lila had set herself up, but she clearly had a fantastic, unobstructed view of the warehouse floor.

  “Shoot him!” Rufie screamed, stumbling to a lurching stand.

  One of his goons aimed his gun at me. His knee erupted in blood and shattered bone, and he went down in a screaming heap.

  Rufie swung around to stare at me, shoulders hunching as he adjusted his grip on his pipe. “Gutless prick. Got someone shootin’ for ya.”