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His words had stung, even if he’d not meant them to be hurtful. She’d not been trying to make it about her. Helping Alastair wasn’t something she was doing for herself but because she loved him.
Rejection had made it difficult to trust or communicate her needs to others. This was something she knew Alastair had experienced, too. She knew how hard it was to trust. Did this mean that Alastair couldn’t trust anyone completely, not even her? He’d been alone for so long, his reputation for sternness keeping him at arm’s length. He’d been hesitant to go to Master Derek for fear of reprisals. The ruts cut by childhood trauma cut deep into his soul. She knew this. How could she help?
Dora didn’t think she could do anything in the state she was in. She was physically shaking and could no longer contain the tears. At the end of the hallway, she entered a stairwell and climbed into the window seat overlooking a path that led to a nature trail. Several of the students from Alastair’s class, no doubt thrilled to be outside, were heading there now.
The stairwell door opened. Dora instantly tried to wipe her tears.
“Well, if it isn’t Dumpy Dora.” The voice and the words left no mystery to the speaker. Dora turned to see Maribel leaning against the shut door. She cocked her head and grinned. “Jesus. You’re crying. Let me guess. You got in a fight with your girlfriend.” She pantomimed a sad face.
“I don’t have anything to say to you, Maribel.”
“Well, I have something to say to you.” Maribel walked over. “You got me in trouble, you stupid cow. You just had to go be a tattletale, didn’t you?”
“I told you. I never said anything.”
“Bullshit.” She smirked. “Really, though, I should thank you. Professor Robinson really had me fooled. She does look like a man…”
“He.” Dora stood, angry now. “He. Not she. And he is a guy. You’re a pathetic bigot,” Dora said. She’d never stood up to anyone like this, but then again, she’d never been filled with this kind of righteous anger. “You’re a pathetic, wretched bigot who can’t get past the fact that her prettiness can’t hide the ugliness that shines through.” Dora turned to walk away on legs that were shaking.
“How dare you.” Maribel’s face twisted in rage as she reached out to yank Dora around to face her again, shoving her against the wall. “Like I give a fuck that some weirdo dyke with a fatty fetish prefers you.” She paused. “I’m glad I was spared whatever freakshow there is below her…”
That’s when Dora slapped her—hard—the sound echoing through the stairwell. Maribel stumbled back; her hand pressed against her reddened cheek.
“You’ve done it now,” Maribel seethed. “The guy I was with at the Dungeon? Let me tell you who he is. His name’s Steve Culbert. He’s been coming here as a guest and is a very important man with political connections and ties to some powerful conservatives. He hates trannies…”
“Don’t use that word,” Dora said, pointing her finger. “And your friend has no right to judge.”
“Maybe not. But he will, especially when I tell him that Rawhide Ranch is inviting that kind to secretly mingle with the guests. It’s one thing to be dominant or submissive. That’s mainstream now. But being trans? We know what those types are like.”
“Those types are decent people, Maribel.”
“Really?” She smirked. “That’s not what Steve says. He says there are only two genders and trans people should be outlawed.”
Dora shook her head in disgust. “Why should Steve even worry about how people identify?”
Maribel put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know. He’s rich. Maybe he’s just bored and wants something to do. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I can use Steve to make trouble here.” She scowled. “This place is stupid, anyway. I only came here because I wanted a Daddy. And guess what? Steve wants to be my Daddy. He loves that I’m submissive and fifteen years younger. He’s going to take me away from here, set me up in a nice apartment in Bozeman. I don’t need this place, but if you think I’m going to leave without getting even…”
“You know, you’re a really bad person,” Dora said. “All this because Alastair Robinson didn’t want you?”
“That has nothing to do with it,” Maribel hissed, but the tears in her eyes and her shaking voice made Dora even more convinced that her hurt pride had everything to do with her rage.
Dora stepped back. She had no doubt Maribel would make good on her threat and understood now why Alastair had been so afraid. As a heavy girl, she’d dealt with weight discrimination all her life, but no one ever implied that she was evil.
“See you around, fatty,” Maribel turned to the door.
“Wait.” Dora moved past her, blocking her exit. “What if I left? If I left, would you not do this?”
Maribel looked at her suspiciously. “Like you’d leave…”
“What if I got kicked off the Ranch?” Dora looked at her hopefully.
“You should get kicked off for slapping me.” Maribel rubbed her cheek. It still bore the faint imprint of Dora’s hand.
“They wouldn’t kick me off for that. Bobbi said she got in a fight and didn’t get kicked out. And besides, it was self-defense. You shoved me first. But none of that matters. There’s a way. And I’ll do it if you don’t say anything to Steve about Alastair.”
“I’m listening.”
Dora took a deep breath. She couldn’t believe she was proposing this, but if it kept the Ranch—and Alastair—from being plunged into a political quagmire that would bring pain to everyone, she’d make the sacrifice.
