Chapter 7 #2
The thing that immediately comes to mind is getting on my knees and sucking his glorious cock again.
“With your life. You feel too big for this place. Honestly. A woman like you, with an appetite like you have, you’re just going to wither and die here.”
“That’s cheery,” I say.
“I know what it’s like. Because I was the same way. Everything here felt like being restricted. Locked away. There was better for me out there.”
“I love the ranch. I love my dad. Someone has to take care of it. And of him.”
“Okay. But there’s a point where a lot of the bullshit that’s going on, that’s on him. How long can you hyperextend yourself to save him? How long can you keep putting yourself out there to make everything better for him while doing the bare minimum for yourself?”
“I don’t… I love the ranch,” I say again.
“So that’s your dream. To save it. But how long is it going to be saved? Just until your dad takes the money again. He needs treatment.”
I start to feel panic building in my chest. “But I don’t know how to get that for him. And he’s not going to listen to me. He’s not going to do anything.”
“I can talk to him. He respects me. I’ve helped a lot over the years…”
“Helped?”
He sighs. “Avery, why the fuck do you think I’ve bought any of the acreage up?
Why do you think I lent him the money this time?
If it’s not me it’s going to be somebody else.
I did it because I didn’t want you to lose everything.
And I also knew that you were too fucking stubborn for me to intervene anymore obviously than that. ”
“Have you been… Domming me this entire time?”
I’m stunned by the idea, because it seemed like… Like he wasn’t trying to take over. Which is what I thought was happening. But recasting that into him trying to take care of us, to take care of me, is something that I really don’t know what to do with.
“That’s probably the closest thing to the truth,” he says.
“I’m not a hero. I’m not the kind of guy that knows how to be in a relationship, or make a family, or do anything other than fuck your brains out.
But I know what it’s like to have no one there to take care of you.
And I know what it’s like to feel fucking alone.
I know what it’s like to feel like everything is a mess.
That’s how things seemed to be going for you, and I wanted it to be better. ”
“Dammit. I… Why did you let me think that… Why did you…”
“I didn’t know you. I just saw you, and I saw the same kind of fear that I saw in myself.
When I was a kid, when I didn’t know how I was going to survive.
Or if I was going to. That’s what you look like.
It’s what you look like all the time. You’re running flat out trying to save something that someone else is actively trying to pull apart with their addictions. You can’t save him.”
“But the ranch is my legacy,” I say, my voice small.
“But what if you could go to school? What if you could do something else, live somewhere else? You could go to the city and be near a club. Find more Doms to show you new things. Get a degree, have a career.”
I feel like he’s offering me something, but pushing me away at the same time, and I don’t know what to do with it. On its face, it seems like he’s almost being kind. But only almost.
“But I can’t do that. I can’t leave my dad.”
“What if he was taken care of?”
“Are you offering to be my wealthy benefactor?”
“It’s what I’ve been,” he says.
I shake my head. Because I don’t want his guilt.
I don’t want whatever this is. I certainly don’t want to be paid for.
Something that he manipulates to satisfy his caregiver urges without getting his emotions involved, and I am weirded out that I feel that way, because just a little bit ago I was fantasizing about what it would be like to be his professional sex toy.
But the thing is, I know I can’t do that.
Because if that’s our life, then I’m always going to be waiting for him to cut the cord.
If there’s nothing substantial keeping us together, if it’s just an agreement, just a thing that he’s doing, it’s not any less transactional than the life I live now. Where I could do the wrong thing and…
No. I can’t live like that.
I already live like that. Doing everything I can to keep mine and Dad’s head above water. Doing everything I can to fawn on the one parent I have left. So afraid that I’m going to lose him.
“And I can’t tell my dad that he has to go to rehab.”
“I’ll do it,” he says. “At least let me do that for you.”
I nod slowly. “Okay. I’ll let you do that.”
That seems reasonable, at least. That seems like something I can deal with.
“Stay the night with me,” he says. My throat goes tight. “You can stay in the playroom.”
Of course. He doesn’t want me to stay in his bedroom.
He’s keeping those lines drawn. Making sure that I’m reminded that I am a sub.
Not his girlfriend. And definitely nothing deeper.
That his offer a few moments ago was about sex.
About the idea of keeping me on retainer, at the very most, and not about feelings.
Still, I kind of want to stay with him.
“Okay,” I say.
“We can go for a ride tomorrow. You can see the ranch. You can see that I actually do know how to ride a horse.”
I laughed. “I know that you know how to ride a horse.”
“You don’t think I’m a real cowboy.”
“No, I definitely do,” I say.
And something in my chest feels too tight, too painful. But we finish the movie and I go up to bed, my thoughts churning.
What would I do if I didn’t feel tethered to this place? The ranch is my dream. It’s my life. The truth be told, the ranch is also a millstone. It’s drowning me.
But I don’t know who I am without it. So honestly, it feels like drowning either way.