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“What?”
“You need to talk to the cops, Olson. This isn’t about me. It’s about you, and you and I aren’t the same,” he tells me. I can sense his anger as I nod my head and grab the house phone, dialing the police. I explained to them what happened, and they said they’d send someone out.
“You got wood anywhere?”
“I can call someone to come fix that,” I tell him. I have money, and money talks even at this time of night. He nods his head, walks to the front of the house, and waits on the cops while I make phone calls.
By the time the cops come, someone is here to fix the window as well.
We tell the cops what’s been going on, and they basically ignore every word that comes out of Ridge’s mouth. It doesn’t seem to affect him, though. He ignores what they say and rolls his eyes every once in a while.
When they leave, I’m still shaken. Ridge pulls me into his arms and holds me.
“Why did they act like that toward you?” I finally ask him.
“My club … we don’t do shit by the book, you know? We don’t call the cops; we handle business.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means we do illegal shit, Olson.” With that, he pulls away from me and steps back, running his hand through his hair. Illegal shit? What does that mean?
“I don’t understand,” I say.
“You don’t need to understand. I’m not draggin’ club shit around you. I’m here for your protection, and that’s that.”
“What do you mean that’s that? Is that all you wanted this to be?” He shakes his head and drags his hand over his face before looking at me. He looks tired, not sleepy tired, just tired in general, and I wonder if that has anything to do with me.
“It can’t be more, Olson. We have two different lives.”
“What is your life?” I find myself asking. I want to know more. I want to know more about the man who lives with me right now.
“It’s complicated,” he says, not offering up any more information before he checks the doors and alarm once more. I turn and follow him up the stairs, knowing this isn’t going to get us anywhere. When a man doesn’t want to talk, he won’t. I’ve been there before.
“Will you lay with me?” I ask when we walk into the bedroom, and he walks over toward the pull-out couch. He nods his head and walks back, pulling his jeans off. In nothing but his briefs, he looks like a god. The man is built in all the right places, that’s for sure.
I climb into bed, and Ridge climbs in behind me. Then he slowly scoots closer, pulling me into his arms.
“My life isn’t that simple. I live a life not many would think about livin’. There’s always danger around every corner. I like takin’ these security jobs because it gives me a break from reality,” he explains softly.
“Then why not change it? Your life,” I ask. I can feel his breath blowing against the back of my head.
“It’s not that simple. You don’t walk away from the club, and I wouldn’t want to. They’ve been my family for a long time now, and I don’t see that changin’ at all.”
“Why not?”
“They’re my brothers. We keep each other safe, and there’s nothin’ out there like that,” he says. I sigh, not knowing how that would feel. My family isn’t like that.
“My family is dysfunctional at best. We don’t really get along, as I’m sure you could tell at Thanksgiving dinner. There’s a lot of tension and unspoken truths between us.”
“Then why do it? Why have them all here if you’re not happy, and clearly, you’re not happy.”
“It’s the right thing to do. My mom wants things a certain way and that’s how it’s always been done. Every year is the same. Some years, I get so tired of it,” I admit to him. If there’s anyone I can say this to freely, it’s him.
“Sounds like a sad life, Olson. You shouldn’t have to take shit from anyone in your own house,” he tells me. He’s right, and I know he is, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. I don’t know how to stand up for myself. I never have. I’ve always let people walk all over me.
Ridge goes quiet, and I think he’s fallen asleep when I feel his hard cock pressing against my ass. I smile to myself.
“I can’t control it around you,” he whispers.
