Chapter Nine
Torin
Torin lay sprawled on the mattress, staring at the ceiling. The dim light of the bedside lamp cast faint shadows across the room, but his thoughts were far from the warm glow. He couldn’t stop running over the same question in his mind: Why did Liam send me here?
He knew his older brother loved him, but this? A mafia compound in Montana, surrounded by cowboys who looked like they’d stepped out of a gritty Western movie? And Garett— this self-appointed protector—acting like he could dictate every aspect of Torin’s life and call it “protection.”
Torin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He thought about New York City, about the life he’d left behind. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, and things with Bryon had been…complicated, but at least he’d felt like himself there. Here, he felt like a guest in his own skin.
Maybe Liam would let me come back . If I can just convince him I’m fine, that I don’t need all this … overkill.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped him out of his wishful thoughts. His heart quickened as he heard them approach his door. He didn’t want another lecture, another round of Garett’s “this is for your own good” talk.
As the door creaked open, Torin closed his eyes and turned slightly on the mattress, feigning sleep. Maybe Garett would take the hint and leave him alone. He surely had more rules to impose, and Torin was done with all of that.
But Garett wasn’t so easily deterred. Of course, he wouldn’t be. The bully. “I know you’re awake, Torin,” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.
Torin didn’t move, keeping his breathing steady and ignoring Garett.
“Fine,” Garett added, his tone turning playful. “If you’re going to pretend to sleep, I’ll just talk to myself. Tomorrow morning, I’m taking you out for breakfast. So be ready at eight.”
Before Torin could react, a pillow landed squarely on his shoulder. His eyes flew open, and he glared at Garett, who stood by the bed with a smirk on his face.
“Seriously?” Torin grumbled, grabbing the pillow.
“Seriously,” Garett replied, his smirk widening.
Blindly, Torin hurled the pillow back at him. It hit Garett in the chest with a satisfying thump.
“That’s how you want to play it?” Garett asked, picking up the pillow and tossing it back with more force.
Torin caught it midair, his lips curving into a grin despite himself. “You started it.”
“And I’ll finish it,” Garett shot back, grabbing another pillow from a nearby chair.
What followed was a whirlwind of flying pillows and laughter, the tension from earlier in the day momentarily forgotten. Torin ducked, dodged, and launched his counterattacks, feeling a rare lightness in the playful chaos.
By the time Garett called a truce, both of them were breathless and grinning. Torin flopped back onto the mattress, his chest heaving from exertion. Garett stood over him, shaking his head with a quiet laugh.
“Get some sleep,” Garett said, his tone softer now. “You’ll need it for tomorrow.”
Torin didn’t reply, but as Garett undressed, he put his clothes in a laundry basket. He stood completely naked, so Torin had a full view of the man’s enormous cock. Torin had heard stories that cowboys grew bigger everywhere. In Garett’s case that seemed to hold true for his cock too. He imagined what it would feel like, then his cock enlarged under the sheets. He looked down and a tent appeared.
Garett caught him staring at him and quickly slipped under the covers in his bed beside the mattress Torin was on.
“Why are you parading around naked?” Torin asked.
“Tell me you don’t like what you see.” Garett tilted his head towards his cock.
“Why show me if you’re not going to use it?” Torin didn’t fail to notice Garett’s growing erection while his own excitement swelled.
“You’ll have to earn that privilege.”
“What makes you think I want it?” Torin knew he was playing with fire when it came to Garett. That cowboy could make his life miserable or glorious for a year. He was powerless to stop himself, a compulsion driving his actions.
“Good night, Torin.” Garett blew him a kiss.
With that Torin sat up in bed against the wall. “Are you supposed to tease me like that?”
“This is my home. My rules. Not yours.”
“But I work for you.”
“Just like a New Yorker, do you want to sue me for teasing you?”
“I want you to make good on your teasing.”
“Don’t ask for it if you don’t know what I’m into.”
“Try me out then.”
“Good night, Torin.”
Torin faced Garett’s bed with a smile. Maybe things weren’t perfect here, but for now, he decided he could live with it—just for tonight.
Torin sat across from Garett at the small diner table, the smell of bacon and coffee mingling with the low hum of chatter around them. He absently traced the rim of his orange juice glass, his appetite still waking up. Torin wasn’t a morning person. He had made sure he enrolled in NYU classes in the late mornings and afternoons.
“Not bad for a local spot, huh?” Garett asked, glancing around the cozy diner.
Torin shrugged. “It’s fine. Better than the ranch food, I guess.”
“Better than ranch food?” Garett raised an eyebrow, a hint of humor softening his tone. “You might be the first person I’ve met who thinks that, but then you haven’t had any ranch food yet, have you?”
Torin smirked faintly. “Maybe I just know I don’t have cowboy taste buds.” He hadn’t thought about the ranch food before he landed here. He didn’t understand the rage that boiled inside him, making his words stumble and fall flat as he desperately tried to appease Garett. Torin’s conflicting emotions about his appearance and homesickness created a tumultuous internal struggle that he projected onto Garett.
Garett chuckled lightly. “How about trying it before you shoot your mouth off. The pancakes here are solid. Give them a chance.”
Torin picked up his fork and hesitated. “So, do you come here often?”
“Not really. Usually too busy, but I thought it’d be a good spot for us to talk.” Garett’s tone shifted, growing more serious. “Speaking of which, let’s go over the expectations for the club again.”
Torin’s shoulders slumped as he bit into a piece of pancake. Of course, Garett wasn’t here for a casual breakfast.
“You need to remain respectful at all times,” Garett began, his gaze steady but sharp, as though daring Torin to interrupt. “No starting conversations with anyone unless I give you the okay. And if you address a Dom, it’s always ‘Sir.’ Never their first name. Subs, you can call by their first name.”
Torin nodded, biting back a sigh. He’d hoped last night’s pillow fight would’ve softened Garett’s relentless need to control everything. For a brief moment, it had felt like they were equals—just two people letting their guard down. But now? It was like Garett had reset overnight, returning to his role as the unyielding enforcer of rules.
“Do you understand?” Garett pressed.
“Yeah, I get it,” Torin muttered, shoving a piece of pancake into his mouth to keep himself from saying more. Garett seemed to operate on Dom mode regardless of the situation at hand. He wondered what Garett was into. The thoughts of what he did with those subs at Cowpokes more than turned him on.
Satisfied, Garett leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “Good. Tonight, we’re stopping by Colton’s house for dinner. You’ll meet his sub, Henry. He’s about your age.”
Torin perked up slightly at the idea of a possible friend. Someone his age? That sounded…promising. Maybe Henry wouldn’t be as overbearing as everyone else on this ranch. “Can you tell me something about Henry?”
“I think you’ll really like Henry. He’s Colton’s sub, and that role defines him. He takes care of Colton’s home. He enjoys staying home. He has everything he needs except one thing.”
“What doesn’t he have?”
“He doesn’t get out much. The reason is he doesn’t have any friends. I think you’d make a good friend to him as he would to you.”
“That makes two of us without friends here.”
“After dinner,” Garett continued, “I’m heading to Cowpokes. You’ll stay at Colton’s to get to know Henry better. I think we both need a little time away from each other.”
Torin blinked in surprise at Garett’s bluntness but didn’t argue. Honestly, time apart sounded like a fantastic idea. He was getting tired of feeling like a ticking time bomb under Garett’s constant supervision.
“Fine by me,” Torin said, a faint edge in his voice.
Garett nodded, either ignoring or choosing not to address Torin’s tone. “I’ll pick you up when I’m done at the club.”
Torin stared down at his plate, hiding the small smile that tugged at his lips. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all. Dinner at Colton’s, meeting someone his own age, and a night without Garett hovering over him? It was the most promising plan he’d heard since arriving on this ridiculous compound.
For the first time in days, Torin allowed himself to feel a flicker of relief. Maybe, just maybe, he could find some kind of balance in all of this.
“During the day, I’m taking you to the guest house where you’ll be working. I’m in charge.”